"The people of Liveser and Dreya had significant differences in their lifestyles and perceptions, which led to divergences, divergences to conflicts, and conflicts to wars. And just then, as leaders, we both had the type of personality where it’s heaven first, me second," Echel said nostalgically, scowling at Reed whenever he was reminded of unpleasant matters.

"Eliminating bothersome presences close to home is an instinct of a ruler." The two shared a cold look, and the nearby Lyle felt the temperature seem to drop a few degrees.

"However, we both fell," he continued, switching gears, "the prepared wars immediately died down to mere brawls, and the state fell into chaos without a clear leader."

"Until we joined Twilight Memories..."

Lyle breathed a sigh of relief; he only had terrible memories of war and was glad it never happened.

"After joining Twilight Memories, did the two of you reconcile?"

"Not at first. We were beaten up by Irene and had to feign peace," Echel said, reverting to his wild manners as he glared at Reed. "But the inherent indifference of the undead made us see our hatred in a new light."

"Unable to compete in terms of strength, we started to compete in other ways."

And you two discovered that the other was a granddaughter fanatic, trying to convert the other to the same hobby.

"That was probably Irene’s original thought, to leave life’s grudges with the living. Death is a new beginning."

"To have proud rulers live under the same roof, leader Irene truly had her own set of skills."

In the midst of the conversation, Kayla’s speech had ended, and the residents of Liveser bid farewell to the Undead and returned to their own homes.

Even though Echel hadn’t listened, it didn’t stop him from pretending to be excited and lavishing praise on his granddaughter. Does one need a reason to praise their granddaughter?

"When we go back, meet a few people with me. Then we shall head to Dreya," he said.

After a brief farewell with Kayla, Lyle realized they hadn’t returned to the treetop kingdom of Liveser but had instead passed through the jungle below to reach an area enclosed by black brambles.

The variety of plants here was even more diverse and complex, like a miniature version of a treacherous forest, with sunlight unable to penetrate the foliage above. This dark, unwelcoming place was clearly not favored by regular folk.

"Don’t touch those spiky plants; most of them are poisonous," Echel warned, "and watch out for the plants with blue-green spots on their leaves, they are also tainted with poison."

Halfway through, Echel stopped, "What nonsense am I talking about, we can’t be poisoned."

All along their way, the cracking sound beneath Reed’s feet never ceased.

"Have you lost your mind? Or is this some kind of beast’s graveyard? The traps here outnumber all the previous ones combined!"

"I’ll have a good talk with him," Echel said as he turned his head, "if he listens, that is. Though, I suspect that boy would consider it obedience just to set some beast traps."

Led by Echel, they twisted and turned, navigated through serpentine vines, and at the center of the dark woods, an ugly, dilapidated treehouse reminiscent of a witch’s abode came into view.

"We’re here."

"Welcome to the Night Owl Squad’s camp, the only Ranger Squad I can still nominally command," Echel announced.

Lyle stared at the worn, beetle-eaten wooden door, with darkness so deep inside the cabin it seemed bottomless.

"Are we going in to wait for them? The Night Owl Squad."

"No need. They’ve been with us for a while now and followed us for some distance. Others can’t reach this place; intruders face being turned away or executed. That’s the privilege of the Freak," Echel explained.

The sound of flattening grass appeared almost simultaneously around the three of them, as shadowy figures emerged on the previously empty clearing.

"That’s right, old King. Welcome back to Freak House!" A smiling boy appeared behind Lyle, with a sun-warm smile as if to greet him.

"Hello, Mr. Lyle, I’m Dove, the receptionist for Night Owl Squad. It’s nice to meet you." Dove reached out his right hand, probably to shake hands.

"Hello, I’m Lyle," Lyle replied, but before he could grasp Dove’s hand, Echel picked him up, his legs flailing in the air.

"Dove, Lyle is my guest, so no pranks from you; they won’t work," Echel said.

Dove chuckled, "Worry not, old King. It’s just some prickly thistle." Dove twisted his wrist, revealing a small segment of brown stem. "I only added a bit of a muscle-spasm inducing toxin, and besides, Zhen is here, so it’s all good."

"Lyle and I are Undead, like me. Can’t you stop embarrassing us? How many times have I told you to use my codename? The current Queen of Liveser is Kayla."

Dove blinked, "Ah, use the codenames, right. Doesn’t feel right, old King."

"Your codename is ’Silver Falcon’, sly and quite damaging, isn’t it?"

Echel clenched his teeth as he twisted Dove’s ear, listening to his screams.

"Nightingale! This is your squad. Is this how you discipline your brats?"

The tall, thin man glanced at the old king.

"Dove’s work is very satisfactory, and I won’t interfere with his other behaviors."

"You’ve said before that, to achieve our goals, Night Owl Squad can resort to any means necessary."

Being persuaded by his own words was probably the most embarrassing thing. Echel, impatient, changed the subject and began with the introductions.

"Nightingale, the current squad leader, excels at tracking and assassination."

The man with the feathered hood acknowledged with a nod.

"Acting leader, the king’s orders are above all else."

"Skylark, the deputy leader, specializes in fire support."

Skylark’s dark cloak was lined in a light color, with several small quivers attached to his waist. Besides the great bow he carried on his back, his right hand also held a small crossbow. He wasn’t a fan of socializing; all his communicative abilities had gone into firepower.

"Swift, the scout, the fastest runner, adept at pilfering and sneaking."

The unremarkable-looking man smirked, wearing his notoriety as a badge of honor. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"Zhen, the pharmacist, poisoner. Provides both simple medical care and lethal poisons."

She was the only female member of Night Owl Squad, stretching a strained smile across her pale skin that seemed malnourished. She tightened her cloak around her and stepped back slightly.

"Zhen has a special talent, Highly Poisonous Bodily Fluids. Her sweat, saliva, and blood are all highly toxic. But she herself is a good child."

"Dove, the little rascal, responsible for the installation of traps. Smart brain and many bad intentions, and never short on words."

Dove said nothing, only offering an innocuous smile.

"Parrot, the Disguiser, the Impostor. In charge of all sorts of infiltration missions."

A cold man, who seemed a bit like Ralph in Lyle’s eyes but was much gentler than Cassandra’s ferocious wolf.

"Zither Bird, a bird taming master, pigeon keeper, and also an excellent infiltrator."

Zither Bird was a man who could easily be overlooked, even without utilizing Liveser Ranger’s ability to blend with nature, he tended to fade into the background.

"Crow, you must be quite familiar with him, Lyle. Grael, Death Hunter. A tool to be sold, cannon fodder."

Grael shot an arrow directly at Echel’s forehead... landing in the tree trunk beside him.

"Lastly, me, Silver Falcon. I can do everything, just that awesome!" Echel introduced himself.

Dove immediately clapped mockingly, with the posture of a loyal follower in step with the old king’s pace.

Echel then introduced Lyle.

"My friend, Mr. Lyle, a Necromancer with boundless potential. This face I wear now is his masterpiece."

The changes on Echel’s face sparked great interest in the Night Owl Squad.

"And this one, you will definitely recognize once I say the name."

"Reed Dreya."

"The founder of Dreya."

Malice, like the slight smiles flickering at the corners of Night Owl Squad’s mouths, was chilling. Dove quickly added a phrase.

"Liveser’s archenemy."