There's not much else to do.

[ He doesn't have a problem with looking around. He'll take point as they tromp through the jungle, pushing thick branches and leaves and pausing whenever he hears the rustle of ball gown finery -- or ]

[ The skittering of what sounds like too many legs attached to one body. He comes to a stop, lifting the sword from his side. But instead of looking tense, he just looks thoughtful. ]

Maybe the goal is to kill as many monsters as possible. That man said it before, didn't he -- that whoever survives can leave.