The fourth level of the Maze, outside Mist Town, deep within the Mist Forest.
[Earth-eating Rich Man] kicked away the carcass of a Magic Wolf blocking the path, the Enchanted Armor glinting with a cold metallic sheen under the bluish illumination of the fungal growths.
He glanced back at the dense crowd behind him—fifty "adventurers" wielding pitchforks and hoes, squatting on the mushroom mats gnawing on roasted sweet potatoes, resembling a flock of crows pecking at carrion.
"I say, folks," he lifted his faceguard to wipe his sweat, "we're all Black Iron now, yet here we are with these rookies—it's like a high-level veteran returning to a newbie village to blast fish."
[Iron-blooded Fatty], poking at a luminescent blob on the ground with his sword sheath, lifted his head with a wry smile upon hearing the remark, "The thing is, at least blasting fish produces a sound, but this group can't even outrun a Slime as bait."
