Who Says I'm Not a Proper Adventurer?
Chapter 34: Pale Guard, Alves

Chapter 34: Chapter 34: Pale Guard, Alves

The smell was a mixture of rust and rot, a stench so foul it was worse than moldy cheese.

But even as the men pinched their noses, some even craning their necks out of the cart for a breath of fresh air, not a single one dared to utter a complaint.

After all, to get into such a state from killing Demons inspired a certain degree of reverence. No one wanted to push their luck at a time like this.

Lance, however, didn’t seem to mind. He took advantage of the break to quietly observe the convoy.

The number of wounded pulling back this time was unexpectedly high.

This convoy alone was crammed with over a dozen people.

Fortunately, the Guild physician traveling with them was providing emergency treatment. The vast majority had only suffered external injuries to their limbs and were in no mortal danger.

"Why are so many wounded being sent straight back?"

Lance turned his head and asked a young Adventurer next to him, whose arm was wrapped in thick bandages.

The man looked rather flattered that Lance was speaking to him and quickly explained.

"I hear it was the Guild president’s order."

"Anyone who suffers a visible external wound in combat, resulting in a combat effectiveness assessment drop of over thirty percent, must be forcibly returned to Gray Rock Town with the transport convoy for treatment."

At this, a hint of emotion crossed the young man’s face.

"And this time, the Guild is footing the bill for all the treatment costs."

Lance raised an eyebrow at that.

In his experience, the Guild president was a penny-pinching miser who would squeeze a Copper Coin until it split in two.

This kind of large-scale, Guild-funded treatment was unheard of. It was like the sun rising in the west.

But on second thought, Lance understood the logic behind it.

Rather than letting these injured Adventurers tough it out in the forest only to end up as names on the survivor benefits list, it was far better to spend some money to heal them and get them back on the battlefield to generate value.

’That’s a capitalist’s ledger logic for you.’

For Lance, however, this was fantastic news.

If the Guild was after cost-effectiveness, then on their massive procurement list for trauma medicine, his improved hemostatic ointment—with an Effect comparable to "Giant Blood" but at a fraction of the cost and a much more affordable price—would undoubtedly be their top choice.

’It achieves the hemostatic effect of a high-end Potion at only about fifty percent of the price.’

’I’m sure that shrewd old man, if he has half a brain, will know what choice to make.’

’This deal is in the bag.’

At this thought, Lance’s mood brightened considerably. Even the stench clinging to him seemed less offensive.

Confirming that the convoy had entered the relatively safe plains, Lance sank his consciousness back into the system and opened the Profession information that had flashed by earlier.

[Profession: Pale Guard (Heroic)]

[Race Requirement: Human]

[Prerequisites for Unlocking:]

[1. Basic Attributes: Constitution 12, Spirit 10, Perception 10]

[2. Skill Requirements: Three Weapon Combat Skills at Level 5 (Expert), any one unarmed Combat Skill at Level 5, any one Breathing Combat Technique at Level 5]

[3. Trial Requirement: On a full moon night, engage in high-intensity combat alone against more than 50 Demons for over an hour. You must remain in a "Guardian" state until dawn or until the guarding is successful.]

[4. Heroic Deed Requirement: Achieve the Heroic Deed "I successfully resisted death" (Achieved)]

Staring at the dense wall of text, Lance couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

These conditions were so demanding they were practically insane.

In comparison, the requirements for the [Swordsman] Profession that Damian dreamed of were so low they might as well have been charity.

Just looking at the Attribute template, one could guess that this Profession was for a well-rounded warrior—able to both take and deal damage, with extremely high survivability and a keen intuition for danger.

Not to mention the need to train five different Combat Skills all to the Expert Level.

To put it in perspective, even with his cheat-like training, Lance had only just reached the threshold of the Master Level in Swordsmanship alone.

"No wonder it’s called a Heroic Profession..."

Lance clicked his tongue in his mind.

Just meeting these prerequisites would be a heroic deed in itself for an ordinary person.

But Lance wasn’t deterred. Instead, he began to calculate the feasibility in his head.

’The Skills aspect isn’t too bad.’

His current main Skills, [Castro Swordsmanship] and [Levin Archery], already counted as two Weapon Skills.

He just needed to find a chance to learn a polearm or heavy weapon skill, plus a Fighting Skill and a Breathing Technique.

’With my Unlimited Stamina cheat, grinding them to the Expert Level (Level 5) is just a matter of time.’

The real headache was the trial.

’Alone, on a full moon night, for one hour, against more than fifty Demons.’

An ordinary person would die from sheer exhaustion in a battle of that intensity.

Not to mention the "Guardian" part.

That one word was the cruelest restriction of all.

It meant he couldn’t kite his enemies. He would have to be rooted to the spot like a nail, protecting some target from being killed by the Demons.

It forced the candidate into a direct, head-on confrontation.

"But... it doesn’t seem completely impossible."

Lance stroked his chin.

’If [Hevagmir’s Boiling] can provide unlimited endurance, a battle of attrition like this is actually my strong suit.’

’As long as I can take the hits without getting one-shot, I can keep fighting indefinitely.’

’Can anyone actually unlock this Profession?’

The doubt surfaced in Lance’s mind.

He really couldn’t imagine who else in this world could accomplish such a feat before even having a Profession.

"But... since this Profession exists, someone in history must have succeeded."

Lance looked at the Heroic Deed entry for "I successfully resisted death," and an ancient legend surfaced in his mind.

It was the story of the second Hero, Alves.

He possessed neither a powerful physique nor an unbreakable blade.

He was just an ordinary man with a frail body, but with his unparalleled wisdom, he navigated between ferocious Demons and arrogant gods.

Yet, mortal wisdom could not ultimately escape the harvest of fate.

On the day his life was about to end, the shadow of death arrived as expected, taking him to the bank of the River of Gray that separates life and death.

The Ferryman extended a withered hand, demanding the toll for the crossing: all the memories of his life.

The aged Alves looked at the black boat bound for eternal silence and spoke.

"O great Ferryman, I am willing to offer my soul, but before that, I would like to make a wager with you."

"I bet that a road with no end exists in this world."

"If I can prove its existence to you, then as long as I am still walking on that road, you cannot take me. If I stop, or if I reach its end, my soul is yours to do with as you please."

Bored to tears by the long eternity, the Ferryman agreed to what he considered an utterly foolish bet.

So Alves bent down and, with his finger, drew a not-so-perfect circle on the black sand.

He stepped onto it and began to walk.

One step, two steps, he followed the circle, moving ever forward.

When he completed a full circle and returned to his starting point, the Ferryman raised his scythe and let out a mocking laugh.