Chapter 120: Newspaper, Trial, Nightmare

The Warlock Shirley chatted with them for a while longer, mostly about recent happenings in Graystone Town and some updates from the Adventurer’s Guild.

Only after a good while did she rise gracefully to her feet, her fiery red hair swaying like flames as she left.

As the door closed once more, the intangible pressure inside the room seemed to dissipate along with her presence.

Gauss and Arya let out a breath almost in unison, then exchanged a smile.

"Didn’t expect such a windfall from a twist of fate," Gauss said.

"This time luck really was on our side. Since becoming a Bronze-rank Adventurer, this is the first time I’ve come across such a situation," Arya added.

"Your first time? Is it that rare?"

"Yes."

This made Gauss’s idea of earning a huge bounty by hunting down Evil God’s minions seem a bit impractical.

But thinking further, if proof of the Evil God’s presence littered the streets and the Adventurer’s Guild handed out 10 gold coins each time, they would’ve been bankrupted by now. Moreover, such situations were inherently far more dangerous.

So not being able to earn from it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

After leaving the reception room, they went to the counter in the Mission Hall and received their reward for the special intelligence—ten glittering gold coins—which, like the Commission Reward, they split on the spot.

Entering the public rest area in the guild’s central courtyard, Gauss noticed that the place was far more crowded than usual—and unusually quiet.

Many people were holding a copy of the same special emergency edition issued by the kingdom.

The bold, black headline on the front page nearly burned the eyes.

Trial of the Sword! Who Will Be the Next Sword Saint?

The two found an empty table and sat down, borrowing a copy of the newspaper from the publication stand.

An event of such magnitude in the human world—remaining ignorant of it would make them seem utterly outdated.

Gauss took the paper, its strong ink scent and lingering warmth hinting it had just come off the printing press. His gaze was quickly drawn into its contents.

This special edition, funded by the royal family and distributed for free to Adventurer’s Guilds across the kingdom, was meant to deliver this earth-shattering news swiftly—but also had deeper intentions.

Namely, if they could motivate adventurers from their own kingdom to travel to the Imperial Capital and, by sheer luck, someone managed to draw the legendary Holy Sword, they could then win them over and cultivate them. Perhaps, in the future, the kingdom would have a legendary powerhouse of its own.

Of course, the newspaper’s content was quite grounded and not just sensationalism—it openly laid out the real difficulties involved.

First, the journey was long, and expenses had to be borne personally.

From the outer regions of the Kingdom of Karos to the Imperial Capital Oridian required crossing the entire kingdom and then traversing the vast southern territories of the Empire. For most low-level adventurers, this alone was a huge hurdle—the travel expenses were no small sum.

Second, adventurers had to be mentally prepared to return empty-handed.

Because there was no discernible pattern to the Holy Sword's recognition of a master.

Unlike the structured appointments in Gauss’s previous life, where positions were open for competition, the Holy Sword relied on a sort of “fated connection.”

It was possible that, by tomorrow, a boy clad in tattered linen with dried snot under his nose might pull the sword and rise to fame across nations.

And it was equally possible that years—ten, even more—might pass without anyone being chosen.

It was said that when the Sword Saint Roland drew the Holy Sword, he had been nothing more than an obscure peasant from a rural village.

That day happened to be one of the rare public open days. Only on such days, ordinary people, upon passing a preliminary screening, could approach the Holy Sword—even non-Professionals.

The plaza had few onlookers aside from hopeful registrants who had passed the screening, order-maintaining Town Guards, and a few peddlers trying to earn a living.

Because no one had succeeded for so long, public curiosity had long since faded. Who could’ve imagined that, on such a dull and ordinary morning, the Holy Sword would choose someone from a bunch of “mud-legs”?

"Do you want to give it a try?" Arya put down the paper and looked at Gauss. "You use a sword, don’t you?"

"Me...? Hah." Gauss chuckled and shook his head.

Setting aside the unreachable journey—

It was said the Holy Sword had a will of its own, so its criteria for choosing a master must align with its essence as a Warrior.

This time, ninety-nine percent of those rushing to the Imperial Capital were likely Warriors, Swordsmen, and other close-combat Professionals.

"But I’m a Spellcaster," he said, spreading his hands.

If it were a Holy Staff, he might have stood a better chance.

"Just kidding." Arya chuckled at her own unrealistic thought. She couldn’t picture the scene: the legendary Holy Sword ignoring thousands of elite swordsmen to pick a Spellcaster as its master.

Even though Spellcasters might learn some sword techniques, they still couldn’t compare to true Professional Swordsmen.

If such a thing truly happened, it would surely become a piece of explosive news recorded in history—just as monumental as the Sword Saint’s fall.

"But if I ever happen to pass by the Imperial Capital someday, trying it wouldn’t hurt."

"Then do your best." Arya smiled at Gauss’s persistent teasing.

After their banter, Gauss put down the newspaper.

To be honest, such grand narratives were far too distant for the two of them, mere Tier 1 Professionals.

Even if he genuinely wanted to witness the Holy Sword, his current situation wouldn’t allow it.

What mattered most right now was to steadily and solidly build up.

Expand the Monster Encyclopedia, accumulate kill count, and steadily advance to higher levels.

As for everything else—it could wait until they had enough strength.

They rose from their seats and agreed to meet the next morning to deal with the spoils from the Ratmen.

They had originally thought the loot would fetch a decent sum, but after splitting the large reward from the intelligence, those bits and pieces seemed almost trivial.

So they decided to go home and rest for now.

"This is my address. If anything urgent comes up, just come find me here."

Before parting, Arya pointed out her residence on the detailed Graystone Town map posted at the Adventurer’s Guild.

Cross-referencing it with the town layout in his mind, Gauss was surprised to find that Arya’s standalone cottage was quite close to his temporary lodging at the Inn.

About a minute’s walk, give or take.

"Let’s walk together, I live nearby too."

"Really?" Arya was a little surprised as well. They had met several times at the guild entrance, and she had never noticed Gauss was staying so close by.

"You know that Inn with the pale yellow walls on that street? I’m staying there."

"Oh, I remember it." Arya nodded in understanding. "Then let’s just meet at your Inn tomorrow morning."

"Alright."

With their conversation finished, the two descended the stairs side by side.

Gauss’s gaze alertly swept over the Mission Wall. After searching for a while and finding nothing, he silently withdrew his sight.

He exited the Adventurer’s Guild and followed the familiar street. Soon, he arrived at the fork near the Inn.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Gauss waved his hand, watching Arya turn into the alley.

Her steps were light, and the heels of her boots tapped crisply against the stone pavement, showing that she was clearly in a good mood.

Was it because of the money earned?

Gauss was also in a good mood.

He was carrying 9 gold and 85 silver in cash. Although he still owed 20 gold, repaying it within half a year was manageable—the financial pressure wasn’t too high.

On the way back, he had even asked Arya if there were any suitable vacant houses nearby, considering whether to rent or buy.

To buy one and leave it there, using it occasionally, would still serve as an additional base.

After all, to him, a price around one gold coin wasn’t exactly a major expenditure.

Even without extra gains, just relying on Commission Rewards and selling spoils, each person could likely earn about 0.7 to 1 gold per mission.

One or two missions would be enough to secure a small place in a remote area. The earning efficiency of a Professional was enough to make many ordinary people green with envy and heart racing.

Of course, this was actually reasonable.

After all, high risk brought high returns. Many low-level Adventurers had to struggle for years before advancing to Professional status. If the income were still mere scraps, no one would keep doing this job.

The next morning.

Gauss crawled out of bed, his eyes weary.

"Ha—"

He let out a yawn.

He knew that his condition wasn’t great.

Last night, for some unknown reason, he had an unusual nightmare.

In the dream, he was bound by an invisible force, unable to move. He could only watch as a tall dark green figure, wielding a sharp blade, repeatedly severed his limbs. Strangely, his limbs would regenerate instantly, only to be severed again.

Again and again, endlessly.

Although he didn’t feel much pain in the dream, the sensation of "watching" himself get dismembered over and over was far from pleasant.

Fortunately, it was just a dream.

He had woken up once in the second half of the night and returned to normal afterward.

Still, the nightmare had ruined the quality of his sleep.

At the moment, unusually, there wasn’t much energy in his eyes.

"Could it be the result of contact with that Evil God item?" Gauss rubbed his brow.

He wasn’t sure what was going on and could only guess.

But if it was due to the Evil God, why wasn’t he affected the night they were at the manor? Why only last night, with a one-day delay?

Compared to the day before, what else had he done yesterday? Returned to Graystone Town, submitted the mission, read the newspaper?

Thankfully, recovering in the latter half of the night seemed to suggest it might just have been a one-off incident—perhaps merely a psychological effect.

He’d have to keep observing.

Or ask someone?

Gauss yawned again.

Aside from being a little fatigued from poor sleep, he had no other adverse symptoms.

"Morning."

"Morning."

Sophia’s voice came from downstairs.

She was patiently instructing the neighboring girl, Winnie, on the tasks of a server.

Yes, the very same girl who was pulled in to help during Gauss’s Promotion celebration. She had now officially been hired as a shop assistant.

Business at the Inn had indeed improved lately.

And this might, to some extent, be related to Gauss.

Because this Bronze-rank Adventurer would often loiter around here, some troublemakers were deterred from stirring up issues.

And perhaps due to the flow of information in the underground world, those thugs and street rogues who usually caused trouble now consciously avoided the area.

Moreover, Gauss was not someone who abused his strength. Although the aura of a Professional naturally exuded authority, his first impression remained calm rather than overbearing.

Thus, some tenants who preferred peace and quiet found this relatively safe lodging more appealing for long-term stay.

Sophia also clearly began running the place seriously. The menu was no longer the meager one it had been when Gauss first arrived—it now offered a far more diverse selection.

Gauss had even heard that she was currently looking for a skilled cook.

Seeing her finally stop "slacking off" and begin earnestly managing her little Inn venture, Gauss genuinely felt happy for her.

"Not looking too energetic today?"

"Didn’t sleep well." Gauss didn’t elaborate on his nightmare.

"You really need to rest more. How about easing up on your mission pace a bit?" Sophia suggested.

"Mm." Gauss responded casually, knowing she meant well.

On the other side, the new staffer Winnie was carefully wiping the counter, though her eyes kept darting curiously toward Gauss—especially lingering on the Bronze Badge on his chest that symbolized his identity as a Professional.

It was her first time being this close to such a "big figure".

Naturally, she was curious, wanting to see if Professionals looked any different from regular people.

After watching for quite some time, with flushed cheeks, she came to a quiet conclusion in her heart:

Very... very good-looking.

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