Aden listened to Gilbert the fat acolyte with great enthusiasm, captivated by the tales of wyverns and their riveting rivalry with harpies. In his homeland of Median, such fantastical creatures were but a distant dream, for the land boasted its own unique array of mythical beings.

The drunk old man watched Gilbert explaining the harpy insights while kept sipping his near-empty wine bottle. It looked like he had something to say.

"So, you were saying their weaknesses are loud noises and fire, so we could bang metal objects or shields together and wield torches to drive the harpy away. Is that what you suggest when we encounter them?" Aden asked Gilbert.

"Yes, people usually banging metals and it usually works," Gilbert replied.

"But, be mindful with the torch, lads. As you can paint yourself a target mark for the harpies from a distance, they have a pair of keen eyes. They are all birds of prey nonetheless." Now the Old drunk broke his silence and gave some wise advice.

Marcus, a seasoned smuggler among the prisoners, leaned in close to the group and shared a tantalizing proposition.

"Listen up, mates," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "If we manage to capture one of those harpies unharmed, we can sell it for a hefty sum of gold. I'm talking serious coins. Wealthy folks and slavemasters would pay a fortune for a live, unharmed harpy."

The group exchanged glances, contemplating the potential windfall that awaited them. The allure of newfound riches danced before their eyes, tempting them with dreams of a life far removed from their current predicament.

Captain Willem, well aware of the prisoners' conversation, approached them with a stern expression. "I overheard your little discussion," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of caution and resignation. "I won't condone illegal activities, but I'll make you a deal. If, by some miracle, you manage to capture a harpy, I'll look the other way. Consider it your reward for participating in this harpy mission."

The prisoners' eyes widened with a mix of surprise and excitement. Harpy is one of the illegal creatures to be hunted in Regalia empire territory, but this is a special case.

The opportunity to secure their freedom and newfound wealth seemed within reach, albeit through a risky venture. They understood the stakes and the consequences of failure, but the allure of a brighter future propelled their determination.

With a sly grin, Marcus glanced at the other prisoners. "You heard the captain. We have ourselves a golden opportunity, mates. if we pull this off, we'll be walking away from this mission as wealthy men."

With renewed resolve, the group set their sights not only on eliminating the harpy threat but also on seizing the chance to secure their own futures. The promise of riches hung in the air, fueling their determination as they continued their journey toward the harpy-infested territory. Little did they know the trials and dangers that awaited them, but their desire for freedom and wealth pushed them forward, ready to seize the opportunity that lay ahead.

Marcus, the smuggler-turned-prisoner took a good look at Aden.

"You don't have harpies back in your home, Ruhimi?" Marcus, the smuggler prisoner asked the Median prisoner.

Aden didn't feel offended. He knew his place.

Median people worshipped Lua while these prisoners were mostly Regalians, and Regalians were usually followers of Aione. Ruhim was the prophet of Lua, therefore people refer to the followers of the prophet Ruhim as ruhimi.

"No, we don't. We only have mermaids by the west coves, ghouls, ogres, sandworms, and Anka, a giant bird of prey with beautiful colorful feathers that prey upon kids." the Median prisoner replied to Marcus.

"and you can call me Aden." The foreign prisoner introduced himself again for the second time.

"I'm Hjalmar." said the dark-skinned smugger turned prisoner, who introduced himself to the party.

"Me Oliver," the youngest smuggler prisoner chimed in, introducing his smuggler group of prisoners. "This here is Marcus, the one who talked about selling the harpy. Then there's Ethan, our resident brainiac. And lastly, this is Victor - our jester."

"I'm not a jester," Victor complained.

"Okay, you are the clown then," Oliver kept teasing him.

"Damn brat," Victor poked the teen boy's head with his hand.

"And I'm Phil." the scrawny prisoner spoke his name and refused to be left out while the mute prisoner Martin wove his hand to say hi.

The prisoners raise their canteens and cups, saluting Aden as the custom in the Regalyon when someone or one introduces themselves. Aden raised his wooden cup to salute them.

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