"So when you need to think it over, just call me." Eryies smiled and whispered in the mage's ear, "Dear, I love thinking too."

Lynch quickly left the body of the Desire Demon, searching for a relatively flat and clean patch of earth, ideally upwind from the large cauldron. Such places were few, but thanks to the Eye of Insight's superior observation, the mage soon found one. He sat down, laying the longsword across his lap, and the Desire Demon sat beside him.

"Eryies, will this new recruit camp all have to charge into battle?" Lynch asked, "I mean, will I be forced to engage in melee combat?"

"It is almost certain, Master." The Desire Demon sharpened the longsword's blade with the hard barbs on her tail to make it sharper. She said, "Being swept forward by thousands of devils, amidst the flood of thousands of troops, flying is impossible, let alone casting spells. Participating in melee combat is almost unavoidable for you."

"Looks like I need a powerful weapon for protection." Lynch looked at the longsword in his hand, his mind not only thinking. He occasionally grabbed a handful of soil from the ground, gently rubbing it between his fingers, watching the falling dust intently.

The Desire Demon knew the mage had entered a state of contemplation and thought it best not to disturb him. So she focused on the surrounding sounds, preventing other devils from causing trouble. Although a longsword wasn't worth much, or even completely meaningless, some devils believed the more weapons they had, the greater their chances of survival, and those creatures with more than two arms were always looking for new gear.

Under the tent, another person was observing Lynch, shrinking his body into the shadow of the pillar, his black robe seemingly part of all the shadows, completely blending with the environment. No devil would notice him, because he was so inconspicuous, all eyes would naturally avoid that area. As if there wasn't a person there, just a stone, a grain of sand, something worthless and meaningless, not worth attention.

In his meditative state, Lynch also felt a gaze watching him, though it wasn't hostile, it was filled with a curious sensation. He seemed to awake from sleep, immediately capturing that sight. His Eye of Insight found that shadow, and the person within it.

A pair of golden eyes stared at him, expressionless, yet they evoked a sense of eerie fear. Lynch's eyes could penetrate space, ignoring obstacles; while that figure seemed to roam freely in time, history losing its mysterious veil under his gaze. Lynch felt like a skeleton in his eyes, slowly disappearing in the sand-laden wasteland under the erosion of winds and sands. Such an end was an apocalypse in itself, an inevitable apocalypse.

The mage coughed lightly twice, covered his chest, and lowered his head. As soon as that gaze left the mage, Lynch felt a sense of relief wash over him. Initially, Lynch thought the other was just unwell from the weather here, but the black-robed one's coughing grew more severe, as if his lungs were trying to expel all the blood within, forcing life out together.

Lynch rummaged through his pocket and found some Elf Cookies the elves had given him. Though they couldn't cure diseases, these treats could soothe pain and calm the body well. The mage, guided entirely by instinct, hurled the Elf Cookies over, not knowing why he was helping.

"Hey, black-robed guy, have some food." Lynch used his willpower to levitate the cookies before the black-robed mage and then said, "Though I don't know how much longer you can live or if you'll die in the blood battle, at least don't die from coughing up blood!"

The black-robed figure lifted his head, his coughing continuing. Lynch always felt there was an ambiguous smile hanging at the corners of his mouth, making it all the more confusing. Yet the black robe still reached out, grabbing the food before him.

"Hey! You consumptive ghost! What are you holding in your hand?" The Elf Cookies disrupted the hidden effect that the human had been maintaining, attracting a massive Horror Demon. The Horror Demon wasn't a new recruit here, but a devil overseeing the recruits. In his eyes, most of these guys were doomed to die in their first battle, with a survival chance close to zero. Therefore, squeezing every benefit from them before they died became his favorite entertainment. He strode up to the black robe, seeing the white Elf Cookies clutched in those dry, slender fingers.

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