“The more I look at it, the stranger it is. No, should I call it bold instead?” Druid Pythamoras muttered while closely examining a plate coat of the beowulfs, which were two or three times bigger than regular plate coats. He nodded. The outer leather was high-quality, and the iron plate fixed inside of the armor was adeptly smelted as well. In addition, the iron plates were twice or three times as thick as regular armor. It seemed unlikely that an ordinary weapon could possibly penetrate the sturdy armor.

It was without doubt that an equivalent number of heavy cavalry would struggle against beowulf warriors equipped with such armor.

“So, the high-ranking member of the Dark Clan who gave you this is very rich?” Pythamoras asked.

“That’s what we heard. Apparently, he has his own territory in the continent and a silver mine as well. And the port cities of the continent just gave him these things.”

“His armor was very nice as well. The mayor of one of the cities gave it to him as a present.”

“Excuse me, mister druid, but could you untie us? It hurts a little.”

“We won’t run away, so release us. Please. I swear it on the honor of a big fang warrior,” The beowulfs turned their heads and responded before imploring him. They were walking beside Pythamora’s steed.

The beowulfs were in their human forms, and thin, silver wires were wrapped around their necks and wrists. The wire possessed terrifying magic that inflicted burning pain when the beowulfs were in their beastly forms, although it only stung slightly when they were human.

“I believe...