The party, led by Rock, heads back to the coast. Their mission is to head up the coast while Oleander comes down it. Oleander could just make his way down by himself, but given that he’s in the same situation as Fenrir with having zero respawns left, they don’t want to risk anything happening to him.

Fortunately, they are able to meet up with Oleander without getting distracted by any crabs, coming across guys too desperate to get laid, and without Fenrir and Cassiel getting into another competition.

Fenrir thinks about how if he was living in some sort of manga or anime, then he would be stuck with several more filler arcs before finally reaching Oleander. He doesn’t know how he would feel if he was looking forward to a grand heist and battle only for the story to get sidetracked by fishing.

Alas, he gets right to the point and meets Oleander without issue.

He wouldn’t mind another fishing distraction even if it means delaying his “story,” though.

“Fenny! Carry me!” Oleander shouts out from farther up the coast. He’s dragging his feet and whining.

“Fenny?” Cassiel asks, looking over at Fenrir.

“Problem, Cassy?” Fenrir replies.

“Never call me that again.”

“Trust me, I’m the least of your worries now.”

Rock runs out to greet Oleander. “You got a pet dog?! Seriously?! That’s awesome!” he shouts, crouching down so that he can greet the puppy whom he does not yet know is Rock.

He also doesn’t know how strong Rock is. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s made out of rock, but when she jumps up into his chest, she knocks Oleander onto his back!

“A dog… made out of rock?” Oleander asks.

“Yeah, she’s Rock,” Fenrir explains.

“Rock? You don’t mean the rock that you were carrying around with you, do you?”

“Same Rock.”

Oleander doesn’t know how to accept the fact that a random rock has been turned into a dog. “I guess being a rock fetishist pays off.”

“You’re the only fetishist here.”

Oleander turns serious, looking Fenrir in the eyes. “I’ve seen your browsing history. Do you really want to call me the only one?”

Fenrir covers Serra’s ears from behind. “Listen, a man has his needs and you can’t just—”

He feels Cassiel staring at him. Yeah, she’s totally judging him.

“Anyways!” He uncovers Serra’s ears. “Cassiel, this is Oleander. Olly, this is Cassiel.”

Cassiel doesn’t even look in Oleander’s direction. All she gives him is a simple greeting.

When Fenrir looks at Oleander to try and figure out why she won’t look at him, it all makes sense. He’s still naked.

“Couldn’t you have gotten yourself some new leaves to cover up with?” Fenrir asks.

“I wanted to hurry up and meet up with you! I would have had to have gone back into the forest, find big enough leaves, some more of those stems, and then—” Oleander cuts himself off. He has the expression of somebody with a lightbulb turning on above their head. “Hang on!”

Oleander runs off of the beach into the grassy plains beside it. He comes back a few moments later with nothing to show for it. “Never mind. I wanted to try and turn some grass into a dress with magic, but it went away as soon as I stopped concentrating on it.”

“Here,” Fenrir says, taking off his worn bark armor and handing it over to Oleander, “this will keep you covered up at least.”

Oleander happily accepts the armor and puts it on. While it didn’t fit Fenrir that well, it fits Oleander perfectly. “By the way, how’d you meet her?”

Cassiel turns to glare at Fenrir as if she knows what he’s going to say.

Her concern is well deserved.

“She thrust a long, hard pole into me from behind,” Fenrir explains.

Oleander looks at her furious expression before giving Fenrir a knowing smirk. “Hey, new girl! Thrusting into Fenny is my job! If you want to have him too, then you at least have to take him from the front while I get the back. Though, if you want to thrust your pole into me, you can do so whenever you—”

Cassiel wraps her hands around Oleander’s throat and lifts him off of the ground. She’s not squeezing hard enough to choke him, and after he leans his head down to lick her arm, she’s not squeezing him at all. “You’re both – what is – how are – do you expect me to believe we’re going to take on Coastedge with an unarmed girl, a puppy, and two deviants?!”

“We also have an orc,” Fenrir adds on.

“By the way, Fenny, what’s the plan?” Oleander asks.

Fenrir goes over the plan. It’s the first time that Oleander and Serra hear it, and hearing it again brings some excitement and faith back to Cassiel.

“That’s a really stupid plan,” Oleander says. “But, I can make it work. Look.” He takes Fenrir’s latest spear and uses it to draw in the sand. He draws the layout of Coastedge as he can remember it, the boats he recalls seeing pulled up onto the beach, where he saw guards standing by, and all other important features surrounding it. With nothing but a spear and sand, Oleander draws a perfect map of Coastedge.

Cassiel has an impressed expression the entire time. The impressed look grows into one of admiration as Oleander fine-tunes Fenrir’s plan. It sounded nearly impossible but worth the risk when Fenrir first said it, but now that Oleander is going over the plan, it sounds like the easiest thing in the world to pull off. Oleander’s strategy is perfect.

“This is why you’re the battle master, Olly,” Fenrir praises him, giving him a few pats on the head between his antlers.

Oleander looks up at Fenrir with a wide smile and closed eyes, pressing his head up into Fenrir’s hand.

Serra and Rock both look jealous.

“If we pull this plan off… you guys are going to be the talk of taverns all over. This is the kind of plan that you only see elite guilds pulling off and getting famous for. I’ve met many who claimed to be master strategists, but this is something else,” Cassiel says.

“I hope we’re not. I’d rather not get our names out there for something like this. Hopefully, they’re going to be too embarrassed by their defeat to go and tell anybody about what happened,” Fenrir says.

Cassiel shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter as long as I get my revenge.”

“So edgy,” Oleander teases.

“I’m not edgy! They deserve to die for what they did to me!”

“Are you going to thrust your pole in them?”

Cassiel lifts Oleander up by his antlers. She wasn’t expecting to hear him moan and look at her with seductive eyes. “My – my horns are sensitive.”

She drops Oleander.

He looks back at Fenrir to see a thumbs-up. Serra is looking away trying not to let Cassiel hear her giggling.

“By the way, Fenny, we still going out for drinks tomorrow?” Oleander asks.

“It’s that time of month already?” Fenrir asks. Oleander replies with an excited nod. “Then I guess, yeah. Where do you want to go?”

Serra and Cassiel both just sort of look around to stay out of their reality discussion. Rock licks her paws.

“How about we get ramen in Chinatown and then head over to The One-Eyed Pirate? It’d be a fitting place to go to celebrate our upcoming win!”

The two girls – well, the two non-dog girls, both look at the two men when they hear the name of a bar. It isn’t just any bar name; it is the name of a bar they are both familiar with.

“That works for me. We going to send pictures to Bone to make him jealous again?”

“Duh.”

Rock looks up between the other two girls and tilts her head.

“Let’s go over to your corpse and then wait for Bone to get on. Your stuff should still be where you died, probably,” Fenrir says.

The walk south is uneventful aside from having to hide from a few of Coastedge’s inhabitants out hunting crabs. The party makes it to where Fenrir and Oleander died, Oleander manages to grab the leaf-dress that he made himself, and they make it back into the den where Bonekraka is still sleeping.

Oleander only has one problem with all of this, and it’s that the oversized leaves making up his dress are beginning to brown. He was originally just going to wear the dress underneath the bark armor, but Oleander being Oleander refuses to wear decaying leaves, so he sticks to only wearing the bark.

Bonekraka immerses into the game to the sight and scent of fish being roasted on a fire just outside of his den.

“About time,” Fenrir says, holding a roasted fish on a stick to Bonekraka.

“Do I need to know plan?” Bonekraka asks, getting right to business.

“Not really. Your job is as simple as ever,” Oleander answers.

“Good.” Bonekraka takes the roasted fish and bites a large chunk out of its side.

“Figured you’d be hungry since your character hasn’t eaten for a couple of days. We’re going once you’re full,” Fenrir explains.

Cassiel thought she was the most excited about getting revenge on those within Coastedge, but when she sees the faces of Fenrir and Oleander, she realizes that they are much more excited than her. The main difference is that while she is excited about revenge, they are excited out of a sadistic desire to screw other players over with the odds being against them.

These new players to the game are already coming up with strategies to defeat enemies with greater numbers, far more experience, and better equipment. They are doing what none others would be foolish enough to even think about doing, and they couldn’t be more excited about it.

Bonekraka finishes his fish, and then three more fish, before finally burping and patting his stomach. “Ready,” he says.

“Alright, this will be the last act of the brigade,” Fenrir says.

Oleander stands up and salutes. “Whatever you say, Admiral.”