"Mr. Roland? Mr. Roland? Are you all right?"
A slightly urgent call grew louder, accompanied by the sound of light footsteps, shattering the deathly silence of the camp.
Before the voice faded, a lean, agile figure appeared at the edge of Roland's vision. It was the Zor Elf Scout who had led him here.
His pale red eyes, adapted to the gloom of the Dark Nether Realm, held a hint of subtle anxiety as they quickly scanned the blood-soaked area.
"I'm here."
Roland replied calmly.
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached the other's ears clearly.
Hearing the response, the Zor Elf Scout immediately hurried over, following the sound.
When he saw Roland was unharmed, his breathing as steady as ever, the scout's tense shoulders relaxed imperceptibly, and he let out a soft sigh of relief.
However, before he could fully exhale, his gaze was involuntarily drawn to his surroundings.
The next moment, his entire body went rigid.
