Aimon City!
This was a port city on the coast of the Dambrace Kingdom. Thanks to the prosperity of overseas trade, the city once boasted a free citizen class numbering over ten thousand. The lights of the entire city burned through the night, painting it with an air of vibrant prosperity.
However, with the resurgence of the "Pirate Tide" on the open seas—particularly after the entire Bodi Archipelago had been ransacked—the maritime trade here ground to a halt. Numerous bankrupt small merchants even threw themselves into the sea in despair, and the city's prosperity collapsed almost overnight.
Until this day, when a young man in a grey robe arrived at the city gates.
"Entry fee: one copper coin!"
The two guards, having stood post here for years, had developed a keen eye for trouble. Sensing that the young man across from them was not someone to trifle with, they made no unnecessary demands.
After paying the toll, the young man strode straight into Aimon City.
The streets looked somewhat desolate, with patrol guards visible everywhere. As a coastal port, the city was always theoretically at risk of pirate raids, and this time the Pirate Tide had thoroughly terrified the cowardly municipal officials and nobles. Security had been drastically tightened, and quite a few people had already fled inland.
"I'll probably need to visit the Mercenary Guild too!"
After finding an inn and settling in, the young man lowered his hood, revealing golden, lustrous curly hair and a strikingly handsome face.
This was none other than Leilin. Having tied up all his affairs—particularly dumping a mountain of materials on
Nominally, of course, it was for travel and study, which was a mandatory part of a
Right now, tucked inside Leilin's coat, was a letter of introduction from Ernest. With it, he could go to the Wizard's Guild in the royal capital and arrange a period of advanced study.
Leilin did indeed have plans along those lines. After all, Ernest had precious little left to teach him at this point.
With the dimensional bag contributed by Boruojie, Leilin's travels had become far more convenient. Ten cubic meters of space was plenty—he packed in his tent, rations, and all necessary supplies, saving himself a great deal of trouble.
Once ashore, Leilin melted into the river of pedestrians like a single drop of water, vanishing without a trace.
The current political climate was rather sensitive, and he had no desire to attract unnecessary trouble.
Travel at this time was extremely cumbersome. Without a freeman's certificate from the town hall or other documentation, one would inevitably be dragged off as a runaway tenant farmer or escaped slave, destined to spend the rest of one's life in a prison or a mine.
Of course, if Leilin presented his noble credentials, every city would throw its gates open to him—but he was certainly not foolish enough to do that.
A mercenary license, however, would grant relatively free passage in most places. He might draw contemptuous looks from the local garrisons—after all, undisciplined mercenaries were one of the biggest headaches for any magistrate—but it would serve.
The Mercenary Guild was conveniently located right next to the Warrior's Guild, and the prerequisite for becoming a mercenary was first becoming a professional!
That wasn't particularly difficult. Any soldier who had trained for years, could handle several weapons with proficiency, and had a modicum of combat experience could generally pass the examination for a first-rank Warrior.
Leilin walked through the imposing gates of the Warrior's Guild, flanked by two burly warriors on guard. Not far away stood temples to the God of Warriors and the God of War, and驻牧师 (resident priests) from these temples were stationed within the Guild itself, ready to heal wounds—for a fee, of course.
Behind the Warrior's Guild stood several powerful deities. Without their overt and covert support, the entire guild system could never have spread across the continent.
The Guild was packed. For many races, the Warrior class was the most common and required no special talent.
"Is this your first time here, sir?"
A maid approached Leilin as he entered, her gaze carrying a hint of curiosity. Most warriors tended to be hulking masses of muscle, after all—someone with Leilin's appearance was a rare sight indeed.
"Yes. I'd like to register for a Warrior examination!"
Though visiting the Wizard's Guild would have been far more suitable for Leilin—a Wizard commanded far greater respect—he was currently laying low, so that was out of the question.
He didn't even plan to use the letter of introduction from Ernest.
"Right this way!"
The maid led Leilin to the second floor of the Guild. Several small arenas dotted the area where warriors sparred and fought. They used wooden swords, but injuries still cropped up with alarming regularity.
That was where the waiting priests came in handy.
"Please register first. What rank would you like to attempt?"
Perhaps sensing that Leilin might not know the procedure—and certainly taking his appearance into account—the maid helpfully explained: "Our examinations are structured around combat at different difficulty levels. You must face one opponent of equal rank, or two opponents of a lower rank, and hold your own for a set period. Even so, injuries are quite common…"
"I appreciate the advice. I'll judge my own limits."
Leilin stepped up to a window and quickly filled in his details, sliding the form through the opening.
"Let's see… Name: Lei. Age: 18. You want to attempt the fifth-rank Warrior examination?"
The figure behind the window was a wizened old man. He adjusted his spectacles and peered at Leilin. "Young man, don't be overly ambitious. Fifth-rank Warriors can already channel battle qi—some have even mastered battle techniques. Perhaps you should try third rank first…"
"What? You're attempting the fifth rank?!"
The maid's face was a picture of astonishment, her sharp gasp drawing a small crowd of onlookers.
"Why won't you listen to my good advice?" She stamped her foot, a lovely blush rising to her cheeks.
"I've made my choice. This will do."
Leilin subtly furrowed his brow. Though he'd already shaved a few years off his age, this was apparently still a bit sensational. Still, it was nothing compared to being a ten-rank Wizard at sixteen, so he simply nodded. "Please accept my application."
"Registration fee: ten copper coins!"
Only after Leilin had paid did the old man let out a resigned sigh. "Youths these days…"
"Interesting! It's been a while since I've seen someone this entertaining. How about I be his examiner?"
A rough, booming voice rang out, and a man who towered a full two heads above the crowd shouldered his way through. He was bare-chested, every inch of his body packed with granite-hard muscle. Several slashing scars crisscrossed his face, radiating a faint red glow that made him all the more fearsome. Murmurs rippled through the crowd around him.
"That's 'Bonecrusher' Fafnir! That kid's done for!"
"I heard he's the type who likes to crush his enemies' bones with his bare hands. Why would he suddenly pick on that boy?"
"It's probably because of the girl. He's had his eye on Nina for a long time!"
Nina—the maid who had guided Leilin earlier—flushed crimson. "Fafnir, what are you doing?"
"Nothing at all. I happen to be a fifth-rank Warrior myself—perfectly qualified to serve as his examiner, wouldn't you say?"
Fafnir fixed Leilin with a predatory grin.
"How about it?" he asked the old man at the window.
"You can still forfeit this examination and come back tomorrow," the old man sighed, apparently reluctant to see this young man subjected to a devastating ordeal.
Leilin was inwardly speechless. He couldn't believe he'd actually stumbled into this tired old cliché.
"No need. He'll do."
Wait until tomorrow? He didn't have that kind of time to waste.
"Fine! I'm done with you!"
Leilin's utterly indifferent attitude sent Nina storming off in fury, while Fafnir's fingers crackled with sharp, snapping sounds as he flexed them.
"Kid, you're dead. I'm going to grind your bones to dust, one by one. Try not to cry for your mama…"
As they passed each other, Fafnir looked Leilin in the eye and drew a finger across his own throat.
"No worries—isn't that what priests are for? I just hope you've brought enough coins on you…"
Leilin shrugged and picked up the testing longsword.
Since it was a wooden sword, the hilt was light, though the blade was wrapped in a layer of iron plating, giving it a measure of rigidity.
"Ready—begin!"
The two men slowly stepped into the ring, and the referee chopped his right hand downward.
"Get him, Bonecrusher!"
"Hang in there, kid—I'm rooting for you!" The bored warriors nearby immediately started jeering, and some even opened betting pools on how many moves Leilin could last against Fafnir.
Among the spectators, Nina—who had stormed off earlier—had somehow drifted back, her eyes full of worry as she watched the center of the arena.
"Kid, go rot in hell!"
Fafnir bellowed and lunged forward with a thrusting strike.
That speed and technique were considerably inferior to Jacob's, Leilin noted silently with a shake of his head. But he needed to conceal his true strength, so he narrowly dodged and brought his sword down on the man's shoulder in a dramatic counter.
"I don't have time to waste! I've got plenty to do!"
A faint glow of battle qi bloomed around Leilin's body.
"Battle qi! The kid's already awakened battle qi!" The onlookers cried out in surprise.
"Not bad at all, kid!"
Fafnir's expression turned serious as a similar luminous aura enveloped his own frame.
An opponent who had already awakened battle qi was not someone you could just swat aside.
"Battle Technique—Bonecrushing Slash!"
Fafnir's speed exploded, and he charged straight at Leilin.