The group left together, helping each other as they moved along the treacherous jungle path.
Damion took the Fox corpses into his storage, and he couldn't help but grin when he thought of what he could make from the Cores he had earned.
'Five Cores,' he thought. 'Just enough to make a pair of Pauldrons, Boots and Gauntlets.'
***
An hour later back in a base far away from Damion's, nine students could be seen standing at attention before an armored individual, each having terror written all over their faces.
The armored man oozed so much pressure some students almost buckled to their knees, but they dared not to. Their bloodied and battered bodies didn't move the armored man enough to let them rest for a couple minutes, so they stood, as straight as poles.
"Each and every single one of you lost," the armored man uttered through his helmet, his voice reverberating deeply in the compound. "Why? Were they too strong?"
Silence. None of them dared make a noise.
