Chapter Forty-Four: Technological Civilization?

Weaving between the trees, Camus glanced around from time to time. The closer he got to the town, the smaller the wild beasts in the forest became, a stark contrast to the monstrous creatures deeper in the woods.

He frowned slightly. Though his pace remained steady, a thought stirred in his mind: judging by the intelligence of these beasts, it seemed the larger their size, the higher their wit. Yet, the nearer he drew to civilization, the smaller the creatures became. Could it be that the area around the town was particularly perilous?

With this notion, Camus gradually reduced his speed and found a sturdy branch to perch upon. He gently extended his spiritual sense, letting it drift toward the direction of the town, though he took care not to let it fully unfurl. In this unknown world, there was no telling what formidable figures might lie in wait. As an outsider, if he were discovered, and if they sought to preserve the secrecy of their world, they might simply eliminate him. Indeed, the likelihood of such an outcome was high.

"Ah, people," Camus murmured, as his spiritual sense, before even reaching the town's edge, detected a group of humans. Their strength was unremarkable.

"That direction," he muttered softly. With a light tap of his foot, he soared through the air, swiftly arriving near the group. Camus concealed himself atop a large tree in the shadows.

Peering through the leaves, he saw that those below were all youths—eight young men and five young women, all around seventeen or eighteen. In the shadows lurked two men whose strength was close to the rank of Sea Warlords.

Each of these thirteen young people wielded a blade or some other weapon, apparently here to hunt wild beasts, as evidenced by the small animal corpses lying not far off, clearly felled by cold steel.

They now paused, seemingly to eat. Camus tuned his ears, every subtle sound falling within his perception.

"Hurry up and eat; if we don't finish the task on time, I don't want to get scolded by the teacher."

"Then you eat faster. Less talking, more chewing."

"Lily, take this. I can't finish it."

"Thanks."

Camus shook his head slightly, shifting his gaze to the two concealed men. They appeared to be in their mid-thirties or early forties, both equipped with fine broadswords—likely their instructors.

This world was intriguing, to have such academies and to send students out for practical training. Should he descend or not? This world was clearly not simple, vastly different from where he had come. If he revealed himself, who knew what might happen? Still, at the entry point, Camus had left behind a trace of spiritual energy. If escape was necessary, it would be simple enough; one thought and he would sense the exit.

After a brief hesitation, Camus decided to approach. He was only a few kilometers from the town. If he entered the town, he would have to reveal himself anyway; better to ask about the town here and be prepared.

Resolute, Camus vanished from the tree branch and reappeared behind another large tree not far off.

A faint glow shone from the ring on his left hand—the "Purple Emperor" appeared in his grasp. At this moment, Camus's appearance was that of a young man of about twenty, with messy purple hair and clad in the white, broken attire of a "Hollow" from "Death God." In short, he resembled the typical male protagonist from an anime. (Sweat. Embarrassed sweat...)

Slowly stepping out from behind the tree, Camus walked toward the group of youths.

Because he was partly obscured by shrubbery, the group did not notice him at first.

Only when Camus approached did they hear his footsteps.

The two instructors in hiding also noticed his approach. They did not recognize the young man, but, with a population of at least several hundred thousand, there were plenty who hunted beasts in these forests for profit. Their only question was why this youth was approaching their students.

"Someone's here!" The boy closest to Camus was the first to notice, shouting aloud. He grabbed his broadsword and pointed it at Camus. The others reacted just as quickly, raising their weapons and watching the handsome stranger warily. The instructors, hidden nearby, nodded in satisfaction at their students' readiness.

"Who are you? Don't you know this is our academy's training ground? Why are you approaching?" demanded the strongest-looking youth—a tall, well-built young man with tousled black hair, over 1.7 meters in height.

Observing their reactions, Camus smiled slightly. "I'm out here hunting wild beasts. I got lost, wandered around, and saw people here, so I came to ask for directions. Could someone tell me which way the town is? Thank you." Camus had his excuse ready—enough to fool these students. As for the instructors in hiding, he wasn't sure if they would be as easily deceived.

Hearing Camus's words, the students relaxed visibly. Anyone bold enough to traverse the forest alone was certainly skilled; if this young man had ill intentions...

"The town is that way," the leading youth said, pointing behind them, clearly hoping Camus would leave quickly.

Camus smiled, "Thank you. Be careful in the forest—there are many monsters about." With that, he strode away in the indicated direction.

As he passed the instructors' hiding place, Camus glanced their way, smiled, and shook his head. The two instructors were shocked; it was clear this young man had detected them. This meant his strength surpassed their own, despite their three or four decades of cultivation. For someone who appeared only twenty, this was astonishing.

The students, seeing Camus disappear from sight, all breathed a sigh of relief, as did their teachers.

After about ten minutes, Camus neared the edge of the town. Walking along the forest path, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. He frowned. What was going on? There was no human presence, so why did he feel surveilled? Was his observer more powerful than himself?

This conclusion startled Camus. He stopped abruptly, extended his spiritual sense, sweeping the area within a hundred meters. The sensation of being watched was close, yet his senses detected no one. Could their strength be far beyond his own? Camus found this hard to believe.

Retracting his spiritual sense, Camus closed his eyes. The feeling of being watched grew stronger.

That direction!

He looked toward a tree not far off, his Sharingan already activated.

What he saw stunned him. Slowly, he turned his head, keeping the Sharingan hidden from view.

Waves of shock surged in Camus's heart.

Heavens! Impossible—a video surveillance camera, and one seemingly more advanced than anything on Earth. How could such technology exist here?

Dazed by his discovery, Camus began to walk again, turning over possibilities in his mind.

Could this unknown world be developing along a technological path? Not like the surface—half technology, half martial prowess? But why bother guessing? He was about to reach the town, and then all would become clear.

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