Camp had grown quieter in ways Phong hadn't expected.
Not dangerous quiet.
Not the tense hush before a siege.
Just… empty.
Nyx was with the lizardmen, refining her mana control.
Bruno was up on Death Peak, getting thrown around by trolls twice his size and probably loving every second of it.
Rico was off doing "classified research" with the treants, which likely meant hanging upside down from branches and asking ancient tree spirits deeply inappropriate questions.
Even Dominic's team was on Floor Two.
For the first time in months, Camp Stymphalian felt spacious.
Too spacious.
So Phong dragged a chair under the lime-oak tree and stretched out with his hands behind his head. The hybrid tree's broad canopy broke the sunlight into soft shifting patterns across his face. The wooden sign still hung from one branch:
Camp Stymphalian.
Little Fireball perched on the edge of the table nearby.
On the table sat a tablet.
Streaming.
K-drama.
At first, the red-gold chick had only glanced at it.
One eye.
Briefly.
Dismissive.
Now?
Now she was completely hooked.
Her tiny head tilted in perfect sync with every dramatic camera angle. She chirped softly during romantic tension scenes. Whenever the male lead did something stupid, she puffed up in outrage.
Phong had even caught her rewinding scenes with her beak.
It was absurd.
It was adorable.
It was deeply concerning.
"You're not even human," he muttered lazily, eyes half shut. "Why are you so invested?"
Little Fireball chirped sharply at him, as if to say: You would not understand love triangles.
Phong smiled faintly and closed his eyes.
Last year, being alone like this would have felt normal.
Natural.
The default.
He had drifted through life like a ghost.
Now?
Now the lack of noise felt loud.
The lack of footsteps felt hollow.
He didn't like it.
Not anymore.
The red-gold chick hopped closer, then finally settled on his chest while still watching her drama.
He drifted into a nap.
---
He woke to his phone buzzing hard against the table.
Little Fireball was still there, glaring at the screen as if it had personally offended her by interrupting the episode.
Phong rubbed his eyes and unlocked the phone.
Dominic group chat.
Several notifications.
[Janet: Emergency update.]
[Dominic: You need to see this.]
[Jake: Rabbit problem.]
[Alex: Phong, answer.]
His stomach tightened.
A video followed.
He pressed play.
The footage shook, taken from somewhere near the gate town.
And there they were.
Rabbit cavalry.
Not civilians.
Not carpenters.
Knights.
Armored in full formation.
Green-cap crests flashing in the sun.
They rode flame-horn wildebeests like war chargers. Lightning-striped zebras tore across the field, their hooves spitting sparks.
Arrows flew.
Small.
Fast.
Disciplined volleys.
Rabbit lancers hit in tight waves.
The camera jerked as humans screamed.
The Greencap knights were charging the gate town.
Not skirmishing.
Charging.
Phong leaned forward slowly.
"…No."
Dominic's next message popped up.
[They're calling them "killer rabbits."]
Divers were under attack.
A-class reinforcements had already been sent.
Another clip showed high-level divers fighting back.
Even A-class were struggling.
The rabbit knights moved in units, not like chaotic mobs.
They pulled back and struck again like trained cavalry.
Casualties on both sides.
But human losses were higher than expected.
Selena joined the chat.
[These aren't random mobs.
Formation tactics.
Nomadic movement.
Mounted units.]
Then another message came right after.
[They look like Mongol cavalry analogues.
Flame wildebeest and lightning zebra are livestock-mount hybrids.
This is a mobile kingdom.]
Phong let out a slow breath.
He had a theory.
And he hated it.
Production-class divers.
Farmers leveling through escorted slaughter.
Civilian rabbits.
Level 27.
High exp.
Easy prey.
One greedy ambush.
One bad choice.
To the Greencap Kingdom, that would not be a skirmish.
That would be war.
He typed:
[Divers probably hunted their civilians for exp.]
Silence.
Then Janet answered.
[That would do it.]
Selena's tone changed.
[If they're following Horns of the Earth's ecological surge, they're migrating for resources, not conquest.
If humans attacked first, retaliation makes sense.]
Something twisted in his chest.
He had eaten with them.
Traded with them.
Watched them nibble carrots politely.
Now they were being called killer rabbits.
He typed:
[I'll handle it.]
Alex answered at once.
[Don't do anything reckless.]
He stood.
Little Fireball chirped in protest as the drama froze in the middle of a confession scene.
"Sorry," he murmured, scooping her up.
He moved fast through camp.
Gathered supplies.
Moletatoes.
Bonktatoes.
Sympathy Enoki.
Relaxing Shiitake.
Alerting carrots.
He hesitated at the carrot basket.
Then added more.
He printed photos.
Clear ones.
Dominic.
Janet.
Alex.
Jake.
Joanne.
He labeled them carefully.
Then asked the lizardmen to write beneath them in a script dungeon civilizations would understand:
[These are my allies.
They have not and will not harm your civilians.
They are under my protection.]
Then he added one last line.
[Please do not attack them.]
The crate was heavy.
He sealed it.
Then summoned moletatoes to carry it through underground paths to the Greencap scouts still shadowing the migration routes.
Little Fireball sat silently on his shoulder.
He looked toward the far plains.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered.
The bull brings life.
Humans bring greed.
And life answers.
Selena pinged again.
[Did Horns of the Earth trigger their migration directly?]
Phong answered:
[They said "He Who Walks" told them.]
A pause.
Then:
[A floor boss influencing migration behavior…
That's ecosystem-level governance.]
He did not reply.
Because governance implied order.
And humans had just broken that order.
He sent the crate.
Moletatoes tunneled away with it.
The message was simple.
Not political.
Not manipulative.
Just protective.
These are my people.
I can make sure they will not be hostile to you.
Please do not kill them.
He sat back down under the lime-oak.
Camp felt even quieter now.
Far away, faint echoes of battle still hung in the air.
Little Fireball climbed back to her perch and pecked angrily at the paused K-drama scene.
Phong leaned his head back.
He was a level 1 farmer.
Trying to mediate between cavalry rabbits and modern militarized divers.
Trying to stop a war sparked by greed.
Trying to protect friends on both sides.
Above ground, politicians smiled at conferences.
Below, kingdoms moved because a mountain walked.
And somewhere between all that, a farmer sent a box of vegetables with a peace letter attached.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"Please let them listen."
Little Fireball chirped softly.
Whether in agreement, or just because the male lead had finally confessed on screen, even Phong couldn't tell.
---
Dominic's team returned at first light.
Phong heard them before he saw them.
Boots on gravel.
Metal brushing leather.
The low rumble of Dominic's laugh crossing the perimeter.
He stepped out just in time to get swallowed by a bear hug.
"YOU," Dominic boomed, squeezing him like a stress ball.
Phong wheezed.
"Please… oxygen…"
Dominic finally let him go, grinning so wide it looked painful.
"You saved her."
Phong blinked.
Janet stepped forward under her own power.
A little pale, but upright.
Alive.
Sympathy Enoki.
Relaxing Shiitake.
Dominic's voice dropped.
"There was a Wraith commander. Nasty curse spell."
Janet folded her arms like they were talking about the weather.
"If not for the enoki purging the blood infection and that shiitake resetting my exhaustion in the middle of the fight, I'd be down."
Down.
In dungeon terms, that word carried weight.
Permanent weight.
Phong's shoulders slowly loosened.
"No casualties?"
"None," Jake said.
"A Nightmare almost got Joanne," Jack added, nudging her lightly.
Joanne rolled her eyes.
"Almost doesn't count."
Camille and Séline stood nearby, clearly relieved to find camp intact.
Dominic clapped once.
"Alright. Plan."
He slipped into commander mode with no effort.
"We escort Séline and Camille to the surface. Washington. The G7 conference is wrapping up. The media circus will be at full power."
Séline groaned softly.
"We must smile, yes?"
"Yes," Dominic said without mercy. "Smile. Wave. Be symbols."
Camille sighed and nodded.
"At least it is business class."
"Probably," Janet said dryly.
Alex stood beside Phong with her arms loosely folded.
Dominic looked at her.
"You're not surfacing."
It wasn't a question.
Alex raised a brow.
"Excuse me?"
Dominic wasn't joking now.
"Olen's ego took a hit. Publicly. You humiliated him. He won't forget."
He gestured vaguely toward the surface.
"You show up now, and it becomes a spectacle. He'll try something stupid. A provocation. A narrative trap. Or worse."
Janet nodded.
"And Josh's father is still licking his wounds from Horns of the Earth. They won't mind stirring up another distraction."
Dominic went on.
"Official cover story: Alex stays behind to take care of wounded Janet."
Janet lifted one hand.
"I can limp if needed."
Alex snorted.
"I would like to spend time with my boyfriend," she said bluntly.
Dominic grinned.
"Exactly."
Then he lowered his voice.
"And I don't want you anywhere near that little shit while he's this unstable."
As if called by name, Alex's phone buzzed in her hand.
She glanced at it.
Her nose wrinkled.
"Olen," she said flatly.
Still.
Relentless.
She unlocked the screen and tilted it so Phong could see.
Long paragraphs.
Polished wording.
Artificially humble tone.
[You deserve someone who understands your ambition.]
[A generous, intelligent, and funny woman like you shouldn't settle.]
[You shouldn't compromise your standards.]
Phong raised a brow.
The translation was obvious.
Leave your ordinary boyfriend for me.
Alex locked the screen without replying.
"He really thinks persistence is romance," she muttered.
Janet smirked.
"No. He thinks narrative pressure is romance."
Dominic rolled his shoulders.
"Doesn't matter. He's not your problem. He's mine if he steps wrong."
Jake chuckled.
"Judgenaut diplomacy."
Alex leaned lightly against Phong.
"He's not even creative," she sighed. "At least insult you properly if he's going to try."
Phong shrugged.
"I'm ordinary. It's fine."
She elbowed him gently.
"Self-esteem dip again? Want me to fix it?"
"Please have mercy. I don't want to turn into a prune again."
"Too late, farm boy."
He smiled faintly.
He wasn't jealous.
Not even a little.
He knew her.
Knew the way she looked at him when no one else noticed.
Knew the way she weaponized exhaustion on Love Day just because she could.
No media story could compete with that.
Dominic turned serious again.
"We leave in an hour."
Séline stepped forward, her expression softer now.
She looked at Phong.
"Thank you. For the message to Greencap."
He inclined his head.
"They listened?"
"For now."
Camille added quietly,
"The knight captain recognized your seal."
Relief loosened something in his chest.
Good.
One front stabilized.
Dominic slung his pack over his shoulder.
"Keep the farm alive," he told Phong.
"Always."
"And keep her safe," Dominic added, nodding at Alex.
Phong met his eyes.
"I doubt she needs saving."
Dominic grinned again.
"Doesn't mean she doesn't want it from time to time."
The team headed for the exit path.
Séline and Camille waved once before following.
Soon the sound faded.
Bootsteps growing faint.
Camp quiet again.
Alex let out a slow breath.
"Finally."
She tucked her phone away.
"Peace."
Phong glanced at her.
"For how long?"
She smiled faintly.
"Long enough."
The lime-oak rustled softly overhead.
Far away, herd beasts moved across the new green plains.
And on the surface, politicians gathered.
Egos simmered.
Stories spun.
But in Camp Stymphalian, it was just a farmer.
His apfeltaschen.
And a red-gold chick glaring at a paused K-drama confession like it had personally offended her.
For now, that was enough.