Chapter 638: Asking the Right Question.

Deep inside the cave, where only Draven and Rynna had the authority to stay, the atmosphere was noticeably different from the rest of Scarwind Camp.

The inner sections were quiet, almost unnaturally so.

The walls were reinforced with thick layers of stone, and several narrow passages branched away from the main chamber, leading deeper into the underground structure.

In one of those chambers, Draven, Rynna, and Thoren sat around a large stone table.

There were no unnecessary decorations. Weapons rested against one wall.

Draven leaned back in his seat with a relaxed expression. "Before we begin, why don’t we have some wine?"

He reached into his inventory and brought out a wine jar along with three mugs. The jar looked old, its dark, rough surface carved with faint marks.

The moment he set it on the table, Rynna’s eyes brightened.

"This is the best wine in the camp. The Lonely Bloodmoon."

Draven opened the jar and poured. The liquid was dark red, almost like fresh blood under the dim light, and thicker than ordinary wine, moving slowly as it filled the mugs with a faint, oily shine.

A strong scent spread through the chamber. It wasn’t the sweet fragrance Thoren expected. It was heavy and metallic, the smell of blood mixed with something bitter and strangely earthy.

Thoren’s brow creased. There was something wrong with it, or so he thought at first. But when he saw the bright smile on Rynna’s face as she stared at her cup, he understood that Draven was probably telling the truth.

Whatever this was, people in the camp genuinely considered it the best.

Rynna looked at her mug with obvious satisfaction, then glanced at Draven. "I’ve asked you for a portion of the Lonely Bloodmoon before but you never answered and now, you didn’t hesitate to use it on a visitor."

She pouted childishly and took a sip, instantly, her expression softening.

Draven chuckled sheepishly. "Well, this is a special occasion."

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his own, satisfaction spreading across his face.

"Ah..." He slowly lowered the mug. "Nothing beats this."

Rynna nodded in agreement.

Watching them, Thoren could tell their relationship was far from ordinary.

They were far too comfortable with each other. Rynna, who had seemed cold and aloof when he first met her, was behaving like a completely different person around Draven.

Still, that was none of his concern as he lifted the mug and took a sip.

It was sour. Then came the bitterness and then the metallic taste. Thoren’s expression stayed calm, but inside, his mind was screaming.

The scent of blood grew even stronger in his mouth, and the strange thickness made it feel nothing like ordinary wine.

’What the fuck is this?!’

For a moment, he genuinely wondered whether Draven was trying to poison him. But one look at the satisfied faces of both Draven and Rynna told him it was simply considered a delicacy.

Unwillingly, he forced himself to swallow.

Thud!

He set the mug down on the stone table, his movement controlled but the sound noticeably heavier than necessary.

Draven raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"What do you think? Good, right?"

Thoren stared at him for a moment.

"Not bad..." he said with a forced smile.

"What do you mean, not bad?" Draven’s expression turned serious. "This is the best wine in the camp. Only a few barrels are made each time. If not for my strength and influence, I wouldn’t have gotten my hands on it."

When he said this, there was genuine pride in his voice.

"He’s right," Rynna said. "Lonely Bloodmoon is extremely difficult to obtain." She glanced at her mug as though it were a priceless treasure.

"The materials aren’t easy to acquire, and the process is even more troublesome. Most people in the camp will never get the chance to taste it."

Thoren listened silently, looking at the dark liquid reflecting the dim light. For some reason, it looked even more suspicious now.

"It must be because it’s my first time," he said calmly. "With time, I’ll learn to enjoy it like you."

Draven nodded, pleased. "Exactly. The first time is always difficult. You have to learn to appreciate it."

Rynna gave Thoren a strange look, as though she suspected his reaction had nothing to do with being unfamiliar with the wine.

But she said nothing, and Thoren calmly ignored her gaze.

The exchange might have seemed meaningless, but Thoren had been paying attention to everything.

Together, these details told him that Draven’s party was not merely strong. They had been in Scarwind Camp for a long time.

They had information and influence, and they appeared to know things ordinary awakeners did not.

And that was exactly why he had come.

Draven set his mug down and leaned forward slightly.

"So, what brings you to me?" he asked calmly. "To be candid, I never expected to see you again so soon."

His eyes stayed fixed on Thoren without blinking. There was no hostility in them, but the atmosphere subtly changed.

The casual talk of wine vanished. The relaxed smile remained on Draven’s face, yet something sharper had somehow appeared behind his eyes.

Likewise, Rynna fell quiet as well as she set down her mug, and watched Thoren carefully.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Thoren wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and he had no reason to waste time.

He had seen enough of the camp to know that information was one of the most valuable things on this floor, and that asking the wrong question of the wrong person could be dangerous.

People who had survived this long on the third floor were not fools.

They had seen too many deaths and fought too many beasts, and those who held valuable information were often more dangerous than those who held only strength.

Thoren finally broke the silence. "I need your assistance."

Draven’s eyes narrowed slightly and Rynna’s expression turned serious.

"I want to know more about the surrounding cave system," Thoren continued without hesitation.

"And I’d like to know how deep and dangerous the trenches outside are."

The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the chamber changed completely. The faint smile vanished from Draven’s face, and Rynna’s eyes sharpened.