"Did they meet peacefully? Or did a heated exchange begin the moment they saw each other?"

"I can’t tell, but judging by the way their footprints disappear, I doubt the meeting was very peaceful," Aive said, carefully observing the ground again. "They might have been swallowed by a giant frog and dragged away."

"Look—oh, right, you can’t see. There are some very large footprints on the ground. They’re much deeper on the way out than they were on the way in. Clearly, they ’gained weight’ here."

"Hush!" Sera suddenly raised her hand, signaling for Aive to be quiet. "Did you hear that? There are sounds in the distance!"

"Isn’t it just croaking?" Ron strained his ears to listen, but came up empty.

"Chieftain, you need to work on your hearing," Sera said, shaking her head. "There are human shouts mixed in with it, but we’re too far away. I can’t make them out clearly."

"Let’s get closer."

As Ron and his group drew closer, the area ahead gradually grew brighter.

The Mad Frogmen did not possess Dark Vision, so their encampment was lit by a great number of simple, crude torches.

Illuminated by the firelight, Ron and the others saw a line of Mad Frogmen, clad in beast-hide armor and armed with spears and shields, locked in a fierce battle with a group of humans. Amidst a chorus of croaking that sounded like war drums and horns, the Mad Frogmen charged at the bandits with their spears. They expertly defended with their shields and swiftly thrust their spears, piercing any human who dared to make themselves a target.

The humans’ gear was largely the same as that of the bandits who had appeared outside Fromm, only of much better quality. Despite facing the slimy, frog-headed, human-bodied monsters, these men showed no fear. They attacked with wild abandon, the clash of their weapons ringing out incessantly. Every so often, a Mad Frogman would be ganged up on and struck down.

Among the humans, a robed figure was particularly conspicuous. He was a Caster. The Mad Frogmen continually tried to charge him, but whenever a great fire erupted from his hands, those with scorched skin were forced to fall back.

For the moment, the battle was surprisingly at a stalemate, with both sides evenly matched.

"Evenly matched opponents..."

Aive muttered to herself. Just as she was about to ask Ron for their next move, she suddenly caught sight of a human breaking away from the fighting, stumbling toward their hiding spot.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Chasing him were two Mad Frogmen urging on a giant frog, holding torches aloft as they ran in their direction!

"That bastard!" Sera cursed. But it was too late to hide; the torchlight had already illuminated their position!

At the sudden appearance of a small team, both the bandits—who were likely from the West—and the local Mad Frogmen tacitly ceased fighting. Countless eyes turned to look their way.

’What kind of mess is this!’ Ron was exasperated. Their tactical advantage of being hidden while the enemy was exposed was now completely gone.

’Of all the places to run, why did he have to run toward me?’

"Hey! Who are you people?" The human side was the first to speak, the Caster shouting at them. "Did that Elf send you to rescue us?"

"You!" A Mad Frogman from the other side, who spoke the Common Language with considerable difficulty, immediately yelled, "Don’t help them! I am the steward of His Majesty the King! If you help us, you will gain the friendship and hospitality of our entire kingdom!"

"Bullshit!" the bandits erupted. "Don’t listen to them! Since when does a filthy, damp cave qualify as a kingdom?! Even a tavern in the Gobi Desert is better than that place!"

"And hospitality? These beasts swallowed us, brought us here, and then started trying to kill us at the slightest disagreement, insisting we stole their deity’s treasure!"

"You tell me, does that sound like ’hospitality’?"

"That’s because you did steal it, you thieves!" shrieked the Mad Frogman who called himself a steward. "Our deity once stood in the center of a thunderstorm and was completely unharmed! But just one day after you arrived, it was electrocuted to a crisp in its own lair!"

"You’re the ones who did it!"

The two factions immediately started arguing again. Meanwhile, the fleeing bandit took the opportunity to hide behind Ron and his companions. The two pursuing Mad Frogmen didn’t dare risk offending Ron’s group, so they could only stand there and glare helplessly.

"Stop! I said, stop!" Ron, getting a massive headache from all the shouting, had to roar to cut off their argument. "Can you let me get the details of the situation first? Only then can I decide who to help!"

At his words, both sides fell silent. As it stood, they were evenly matched. The arrival of Ron’s group meant that whoever they chose to help would tip the scales of power.

Both sides were supremely confident that Ron would choose to help them.

"Let’s start with you," Ron said, leading his companions closer to the Mad Frogmen’s side. "You claim that your deity’s treasure was stolen, and that this theft led to its death?"

"Yes!" The steward nodded emphatically. "We went to great lengths to invite the deity into our kingdom! We provided it with food and even sacrificed several of our own people to please it enough to agree to stay!"

Mire Throat Monster. Ron searched the memories of books he’d read in his past life and recalled the creature.

The Mire Throat Monster was an amphibious predator as large as an elephant. It lived in swamps and had four tentacles, thick, gelatinous skin, a maw full of sharp teeth with a prehensile tongue, and an extendable, fleshy stalk topped with three eyeballs that could move independently.

When a tribe of Mad Frogmen encountered a Mire Throat Monster, they would treat it as a deity, doing everything in their power to coax the monster into their lair. A Mire Throat Monster could be loosely tamed with offerings of food, and the Mad Frogmen could achieve a basic level of communication with it. The Mad Frogmen would gather food as tribute, provide it with a comfortable nest, fanatically protect it from harm, and work to ensure any of its young reached maturity.

’But the problem is, this monster is extremely sensitive to electricity. Despite its immense power, it becomes debilitated when struck by lightning. It would never be able to stand unharmed in the middle of a thunderstorm, as the steward claimed. On the other hand, his later comment about it being electrocuted after losing its treasure... now that’s interesting.’

’Could it be that these bandits really were acting on Ming Datiss’s orders, and they stole some kind of treasure the Mire Throat Monster was wearing—a treasure that made it immune to electricity?’