The sun had finally set, and the moon hung from the sky.0

Crockta got on the pumpkin coach and looked up at the sky. It was twilight. His senses were the sharpest when he was accompanied by the moon. The darkness thwarted the enemy’s field of vision and hid Crockta’s presence. With darkness on his side, the only thing he needed was his greatsword.1

He was floating above the canopy of Calmahart’s tent. The surroundings were teeming with liveliness. Orcs were carrying food inside Calmahart’s tent, including enormous amounts of meat. If Calmahart overate, it would serve as an advantage to Crockta. ‘The digestive system requires more energy the more you eat and makes the brain sleepy. Calmahart’s movements will slow down, and he will have more openings during battle.’1

“Not bad,” muttered Crockta. He was planning to get down from the pumpkin coach and strike Calmahart once all of the orcs went to sleep, but there was still a lot of time left before the night grew dark. He could take his time until the pumpkin coach’s next teleportation time at midnight.0

Crockta caressed the surface of the pumpkin coach. It was a real pumpkin pulled by a Pegasus made up of translucent light. The Pegasus was summoned by the Pumpkin Without Borders...1