Though their antics brought no small amount of jeers and snide remarks from those who observed, the three unfortunate adventurers simply had nothing left to care about. Considering the amount of debt they were in, selling their bodies to this masked knight and their subdued priest was the least they could do, and without much further ado, the newly formed party was off, passing through the slum district of Andeave before leaving the southern gates.

The world that opened up before them was wide and windy, the tall grass billowing in the wind as the sea crashed against rocky formations. The sting of salt sharpened their senses and invigorated them, while the gray sky was beginning to promise rain. With how open the fields were, few monsters presented themselves so freely, while farmers lead their flock to graze. A couple of them gave nods to the party as they passed, but otherwise kept their heads up in the horizon. A red-striped toad was comical, yes, but it was also trouble, and its phantom scent caused the slightest of hesitation in Ettamri’s steed.

Seven silver though. Seven silver for a single monster that probably wasn’t nearly as frightening as an intelligent ambusher that wasn’t afraid to use fire in a forest or a party of undead that still retained the skills they had when they were alive. With Ettamri’s warhorse, they could chase it down. With Gwyndolin’s healing, they no longer had to worry about crippling infections. With Ash, they stood a good chance of tracking it even after it escaped. With Matteo and Muu, they…could find something to do as well.

The further away the group travelled from Andeave, the taller and wilder the grass became, until it was almost impossible to tell what you were stepping into. From atop their horse, the white knight felt the telltale shifts of a steed moving through surprisingly uneven terrain, while for those bound to walking the way, there were more than a few times when they ended up stepping in a shallow pond or a slanted rock. Ash, who served as vanguard and scout, even ended up stepping on poop a couple of times, but her shit-smeared soles at least served some purpose: the poop she found was giant-toad poop, and using that as a guideline, she soon became able to track the massive indentations upon the grass that the toad left in its wake.

And after a four-hour trek, they could see it.

From such a distance, it was hard to gauge the size of the beast, but the splash of red against the gray day was more than enough to confirm its identity. At one hundred meters away, the Red Striped Toad hopped around merrily, unaware of the presence of its hunters.

Now, it was simply a question: how do they proceed?