Chapter 640: Scavengers vs Pathfinders

As the wine entered his stomach, that warmth gradually spread throughout his body, easing the tension that had accumulated in his muscles and leaving him feeling unexpectedly relaxed.

Even the strain he had carried in his shoulders seemed to loosen.

He could still think clearly, yet the tension that usually accompanied every thought had eased, leaving behind a rare sense of comfort that he had almost forgotten existed.

Draven stared at the glass in his hand.

He took another sip.

Then another.

He could not stop himself.

Watching Draven drink, Rynna could no longer contain herself as she quickly reached for her own glass.

She had initially intended to observe his reaction before trying the wine, but the expression on his face had already betrayed everything she needed to know.

She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. Instantly, her eyes widened with disbelief.

"My goodness..."

The words escaped her before she could stop herself.

She looked down at the glass, then toward the bottle on the table, as though trying to confirm that the wine she had just tasted was truly the same liquid Thoren had poured for them.

She took another sip, and her expression became even more astonished.

The taste was extraordinary.

"...This is the best wine I’ve ever tasted," Draven said, finally breaking the silence.

He drained his glass in one motion before placing it back on the table, his expression filled with genuine amazement.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think such a magical wine could exist."

He looked at the empty glass for another moment before turning his attention toward the bottle. His mind was still struggling to accept what he had just experienced.

Earlier he was proudly introducing the Lonely Bloodmoon as the finest wine in Scarwind Camp, and he had even taken offense when Thoren described it as not bad rather than praising it enthusiastically.

Now, remembering that conversation, Draven felt his face flush with shame. Compared to this wine, the Lonely Bloodmoon was nothing but dirt.

The realization struck him so hard that he almost wanted to retrieve the jar from earlier and pour its contents onto the ground.

He had genuinely believed he was serving Thoren something exceptional, yet the young man had tasted it, swallowed it with considerable effort, and politely described it as not bad.

At the time, he had assumed Thoren simply lacked the experience to appreciate quality wine. But now, he finally understood.

Thoren had been giving them face. The Lonely Bloodmoon was nothing, but urine compared to the wine sitting on the table.

Draven glanced toward Thoren, who remained calm as though he had merely served them an ordinary drink.

That composure made the situation even more astonishing.

How many rare things did this young man possess?

Draven had no answers, but he knew one thing with certainty. He could no longer regard Thoren as an ordinary newcomer.

After taking several moments to calm himself, Draven raised his head and looked directly at Thoren.

The excitement in his eyes had not completely disappeared, but his expression gradually became more serious as he remembered the purpose of their meeting.

"Since you’ve shown your sincerity, we can talk about what brought you here," he said before serving himself another glass of wine.

Rynna also dropped her wine glass onto the stone table, licking her lips as she enjoyed the lingering aftertaste.

For a moment, the satisfaction on her face was impossible to hide, and she even glanced at the beautiful wine bottle as though she wanted to pour herself another cup immediately.

However, as the pleasant warmth gradually faded, her expression became solemn, and she reluctantly forced herself to put the matter of the wine behind her.

Although the wine tasted heavenly, she could not afford to remain distracted by it when they were discussing something vital for their survival.

Thoren watched the two without speaking as he waited for Draven to continue, his expression remaining calm while his attention focused entirely on the conversation.

He had already offered something valuable in exchange for their information, and now he wanted to understand how much they knew about the surrounding terrain.

"You are new and might not know how important what you just asked for is," Draven continued with the same seriousness, his earlier excitement gone.

"As scavengers, we risk our lives for food and a place to stay in the camp without paying taxes."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

"Every time we leave Scarwind Camp, we have to prepare for the possibility that we might never return. Some of the trenches are relatively safe compared to others, but even those places can become deadly when we encounter a beast that we weren’t prepared to fight. One wrong decision, one careless step, or one mistake during a battle can cost us our lives."

Draven’s voice remained steady, but there was a heaviness behind his words.

"Even though we venture deeper into the trenches and fight beasts almost every time, compared to the pathfinders, what we know is nothing."

Rynna nodded slightly, her expression growing even more serious as she recalled some of the expeditions their party had undertaken.

"The pathfinders are different from us," Draven continued. "They specialize in exploring unfamiliar routes, identifying dangerous regions, and mapping out the terrain before other parties attempt to enter. They have to understand the surrounding environment, recognize signs of nearby beasts, and determine whether a route can be used safely."

"Most of the routes we explore have already been explored by the pathfinders. We are just muscle brains that fight beasts."

Although his words sounded somewhat self-deprecating, Draven did not appear particularly ashamed of the distinction.

He understood the limitations of his profession, and he had no intention of pretending.

"Even though we can’t compare to them, we’re still better than ordinary awakeners in the camp," Draven added, his voice becoming slightly firmer.

"But don’t misunderstand me. Being stronger than ordinary awakeners doesn’t mean we can go wherever we want. There are trenches where even our entire party would have to retreat immediately if we encountered the wrong beast."

The atmosphere inside the chamber grew heavier as he finished speaking.

Thoren listened without interrupting, quietly considering the information he had received. The distinction between scavengers and pathfinders was important.

If the pathfinders were responsible for discovering and mapping routes, then they were likely among the most valuable sources of information about the third floor.

However, Draven’s party could still provide something useful.

They had experience fighting beasts in the trenches, and their knowledge of dangerous encounters could help Thoren understand which areas required greater caution.

Just as Draven finished speaking, he reached into his inventory and brought out a piece of brown beast hide.

He unfolded it carefully and spread it across the stone table, revealing a collection of rough markings drawn across its surface.