As a venomous snake, I evolved into a god through devouring.

As dusk fell, a cool breeze blew across the bonfire by the river, causing the flames to flicker and the shadows of the people sitting on the ground to sway.

The dried meat sizzled and oozed oil as it was roasted over the flames.

Upon seeing this, Little Mustache immediately sprinkled salt on the food, and once it had completely melted, he picked it up from the makeshift barbecue grill and eagerly stuffed it into his mouth.

The high temperature made him grimace, but even so, the little mustache still forced down the bite of roasted meat with a ferocious expression.

"Comfortable."

The man with the mustache sighed contentedly, while the scarred man on the other side wasn't much better off.

During these days of marching, they had been eating the dry rations they carried with them, which were hard and difficult to swallow. In comparison, this simple roast meat feast, although lacking in spices, truly satisfied their appetites.

"I never thought that staying behind to do hard labor could bring me benefits. Normally, besides Finn with his storage ring, who else in the cavalry could enjoy such delicacies?"

Although they took away the grain and livestock from the village, they did not intend to slaughter them for food, but rather to sell them in the market for money.

The money they earned was usually split 30/70, with the other team members getting 30% and Captain Finn getting 70%.

Those copper coins certainly couldn't be used to buy luxurious meat dishes.

"What a pity, there are no drinks."

Scarface tore off a piece of the crispy-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside roasted pheasant meat, and after feeling satisfied, he couldn't help but sigh with regret.

"If I had known this would happen, I should have asked that old drunkard Joseph for some beer."

"yes."

The man with the small mustache chimed in with his indistinct speech.

"Damn it, is your mouth made of iron? You keep stuffing such hot food into your mouth."

"I still have some in my pocket, look at your pathetic, worthless appearance."

Scarface chuckled and spoke sarcastically.

The bearded man didn't care about the verbal attacks from the other man at all; once the food was in his stomach, he didn't care what the other man said.

"Hurry up and pack your things to leave after you've finished eating. Don't forget the warhorse is still in the village."

"What's the panic? Even if those lowly commoners had ten times the courage, they wouldn't dare lay a hand on a warhorse."

"Idiot, don't forget we still have to get back to the team. It'll take an hour to walk back, don't make me get punished because of you."

"Okay, okay."

The man with the small mustache hastily wiped his greasy lips, grabbed a water bottle from the side, hung it on his waist, and walked in another direction.

"I'm going to take a leak and get some water while I'm at it. I'll be right back."

"Hurry up!"

Ignoring the scarred man's urging from behind, the little mustache staggered to the nearby bushes to relieve himself.

They had already scouted the surrounding area before lighting the fire, and there were no magical beasts or wild animals living there, so Little Mustache acted very casually from beginning to end.

Even if there were large, ferocious beasts, his armor provides all-around protection, ensuring his invincibility.

Just as he was relieving himself, the bushes next to him suddenly trembled and made a rustling sound.

The bearded man shuddered, and before he could even pull up his pants, he drew his longsword from his waist.

He observed for a moment, but nothing came out of it.

They must have been passing by some small animals.

The bearded man lowered his guard and was about to sheathe his longsword when he noticed that his gauntlets were strangely damp.

"Fuck your mother..."

The former's expression changed, and he couldn't help but curse.

My movement was too big just now, causing the trajectory to deviate and spilling fertilizer all over my hand.

He wouldn't wear that thing to fetch water from the river.

Thinking of this, Little Mustache took off his hand guards, picked up the clean part, and went to the riverbank.

Just as he unscrewed the kettle to get water, a shadow suddenly darted out of the water and bit his bare hand with lightning speed.

Startled, Little Mustache cried out.

"What is that?!"

Before he could even see clearly what the shadow that attacked him was, it vanished without a trace.

"Damn it, what bad luck."

The man with the mustache cursed and was about to fetch more water when he suddenly felt a piercing pain.

A sharp burning sensation came from the back of his hand and intensified, so much so that he had to raise his hand to examine the wound closely.

Under the bright moonlight, Little Beard saw the two tiny blood holes clearly and his face turned deathly pale.

He was bitten by a snake!

Before he could utter a sound, a long-lurking dark shadow suddenly darted out from the side, leaped high, and accurately bit his throat!

The terrifying bite force instantly shattered his throat bones, rendering him unable to make a sound. Dizzy and disoriented, Little Mustache collapsed to the ground.

In no time, a long, thin yellow shadow swam ashore from the river.

"The plan was a success."

Kasper watched the little mustache slowly breathe its last and thought to himself.

After tracking down the two, he quickly realized that they might be fetching water from the river, and thus devised a simple plan.

This guy's impulsive urination is an even rarer opportunity.

Kasper instructed Simba to quietly approach the urinating little mustache, deliberately making a noise to attract his attention, and then leave.

With their vigilance at its peak and nothing happening, the opponent's already low level of alertness is depleted, making it difficult for them to evade Kasper's attack in the river.

Of course, it doesn't matter if the other party doesn't go to the toilet; Simba, who has followed, will create an opportunity for him, at which point he can attack the back of the neck where the guy isn't protected by a helmet.

This was Casper's first murder, yet he felt no remorse.

Just like when we killed the goblins before.

"That's for the best."

His turbulent emotions could very well affect his thinking, making it difficult for him to carry out the attack on the other person later.

"Hide and wait for the other person to come."

After giving Simba this command, Casper immediately took cover and hid inside the body of the bearded man.

Encircle and annihilate reinforcements – a tried-and-true tactic.

If Scarface dares to get close, he can launch himself out before the other can react, bite his throat, and then begin a death grip.

And things seemed to be developing as Caspar had predicted.

"You've been fetching water for so long, did you fall into the river and drown?!"

The scarred man's cursing voice, accompanied by the sounds of clashing armor, gradually approached from a distance.

Nearly.

By sensing the vibrations transmitted from the ground, Casper could accurately judge the distance to his opponent.

The other party was about ten meters away from the corpse. He was confident that he could take the other party's life as long as he entered within three meters.

Nine...eight...seven...six...five...

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped.

After pausing for a second, it actually moved away from the rear.