"Adventurers are no different. Like the ocean, the Barren Land may seem lush and rich in resources, but it is actually a cruel and difficult place."
"People used to say that the Barren Land is full of demonized materials, and even a handful of plucked grass could be sold for coin." Norman took a sip of tea. "Yes, of course, that is indeed true. But, Randall, have you ever seen an adventurer survive for more than half a year relying solely on gathering quests?"
Randall shook his head.
"Because a simple calculation reveals that even the easiest gathering quest requires about three days of time and energy, yet the money earned isn’t enough to cover your food and lodging for two days. Most demonized materials in the Barren Land are inedible for humans. Furthermore, this place is remote and far from the production centers of food and daily necessities. All supplies must be transported from afar, which incurs the additional cost of caravan transport. Here, everything is expensive." Norman smiled.
"The same goes for many large-scale quests. The reward may seem immense, but the necessary investment required to complete the quest will likely exceed the payout.
"Life is not easy. We are not much different from sharks. We must expend a great deal of mental effort to calculate and weigh the costs and benefits of everything just to find a silver lining of survival in the terrestrial Barren Land. Think more, calculate more.
"If you blindly accept every quest out of desperation, you will eventually starve to death even if you successfully complete every single one. It is only a matter of time. This is the math of an adventurer."
Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken on this dangerous bandit suppression quest. Randall reminisced, chewing on the words Mr. Norman had left him. In the end, he had still let the seemingly large numbers go to his head. This quest was fundamentally unwise; despite the seemingly high reward, completing it required an investment greater than the payout.
No wonder two fifth-level adventurers had stood before the quest board, stared at it for a few minutes, and then walked away. That was the only reason he had managed to score a cheap find amidst the scramble of second- and third-level adventurers.
But now, there was no way to back out. According to the Adventurer’s Alliance’s rules, abandoning a quest midway or breaking a contract arbitrarily incurred a hefty fine. A qualified adventurer had to respect the spirit of a contract. He sighed.
He had learned his lesson, but he still had to shell out the necessary coin.
Looking on the bright side, bandits who could survive in the Barren Land usually had a few tricks up their sleeves. Perhaps there would be a small amount of high-tier loot in the bandit camp. If he successfully eradicated the bandits, gathered the loot, and resold it, he could at least break even—
Randall sighed again, preparing to step into the Adventurer’s Alliance Hall to try his luck and see if there were any available warriors he could recruit into his party.
The next moment, he heard a familiar voice from Uncle Robin.
"Hey, Randall! Boy! Come back!"
He turned his head and watched Guard One stride across the street in his direction.
"Hurry up, come with me to the city gate," Guard One called out. Without giving him a chance to argue, the guard grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the gate. "We’ve found you two perfect new members! Excellent warriors, way better than that blockhead swordsman in your party! As long as you bring the two of them along, I can’t guarantee you’ll wipe out the bandits with ease, but your party will definitely come back in one piece!"
"...What?" Before Randall could react, he had already been half-dragged, half-carried quite a distance.
From far away, he spotted two towering figures standing at the city gate.
They were two full armor knights. The one in black armor carried a hammer spear and wore a trailing dark red cape. The one in copper armor bore a sword and shield, draped in a tattered gray hooded cloak.
"Look! Randall, do you see their armor? Intact in form, but old, dirty, and battered," Guard One pointed out softly.
"The intact form of the armor means they maintain their equipment very well.
"The fact that their gear isn’t brand new or gleaming shows it’s not some flashy, superficial shell worn by a rookie to show off, but rather something that has truly seen many battles.
"Especially the one in black armor. There are sword marks and beast claw gouges on the armor, and she’s carrying a heavy hammer spear. She trekked all the way here in full armor without even panting. Strength, endurance, and stamina of this caliber likely belong to an advanced warrior knight forcefully tempered by high-tier magic potions—an armor-breaking specialist against groups."
"Pay close attention, the Black Armor Knight’s hand armor is claw-shaped." Guard One slung an arm around Randall’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper his observations. "Notice it? Her entire left arm, from the hand up to the forearm, is covered in dark stains—those are remnants of long-dried blood. This means she once plunged that claw-shaped hand armor directly into an enemy’s body and ripped out their internal organs. This is a terrifying warrior with an incredibly aggressive tactical style! The last time I saw such a horrific tactic of smashing through armor with fists and tearing out innards was from a Blood Officer in the Ederic Imperial Army. That’s almost the strength of a Magic Stone Warrior!"
Randall stared at the Black Armor Knight, feeling a strange shiver run through him. He had felt this exact same way a long time ago when he first saw Mr. Norman, the Wind Sword, fighting during a quest—powerful, indifferent, ruthless, and low-key.
"Now look at the copper-armored one. Do you see anything special about the sword and shield he’s using?" Guard One asked.
Randall shook his head and took out his notebook.
"Ha! The shape and design of his knight’s longsword are non-standard. He modified his sword himself, deliberately making it a chunk shorter than the standard length," Guard One chuckled lowly. "A standard longsword is used for mounted combat in open spaces, so it’s very long. The length of the knight sword in his hand is much better suited for infantry combat, and it can be used in relatively narrow spaces like caves, indoors, and on city walls. A shortened sword is less likely to hit a wall and bounce off during a swing. That copper-armored wandering knight probably experienced his weapon bouncing off a wall before, which is why he modified its length himself."
Randall started in surprise, recalling a time he had been fighting near a pile of white rocks in the wasteland and accidentally had his longsword deflected by the stones. He instinctively took out a charcoal pencil and quickly jotted down the relevant notes in his notebook.
"Look at his shield next." Guard One gripped Randall’s shoulder. "Nowadays, very few newcomers carry shields because they think taking hits is a sign of cowardice. But in real combat, a shield is highly effective. Even a small shield can defend against stray arrows. Not only does it protect the user, but it also effectively guards teammates.
"Full armor already provides quite excellent protection. The fact that he wears a full set of heavy armor yet still carries a shield indicates that the shield is most likely meant to protect the people around him. You can tell what kind of person someone is by the weapons they choose. His tactical style is incredibly steady, and he is a kind, young knight who likes to take care of others."
"Uncle Robin, you’ve had too much to drink! Adventurers like them have to be at least fifth- or sixth-level, right? How could they possibly be interested in our party?" Randall swallowed hard. "We’re just a novice party! I’m only a newly promoted third-level adventurer myself!"
"What are you so scared of? They’re ascetic knights who traveled here. They want to become adventurers, but they haven’t registered their adventurer identities yet. Even if they register, they can only start from the first level," Guard One said. "Go walk them through the process, lend them a hand, pull some strings along the way, and make some friends. Won’t that seal the deal?"
He reached out and gave Randall a heavy shove on the back.
Randall stumbled two steps toward the two knights, nearly crashing into the broad, burly bronze breastplate of the Copper Armor Knight.
The Copper Armor Knight reached out and casually grabbed Randall’s arm, steadying him.
Randall shuddered. It felt as if an iron vise that had been soaked in ice water was gripping his arm.
The surface of the Copper Armor Knight’s bronze armor was freezing cold, and his body emanated a bizarre chill. His hand armor was wrapped in cloth bandages to isolate the chill of the copper armor, but it still couldn’t completely conceal this unknown, freezing cold.
The Copper Armor Knight slightly lowered his head. The shadows of the narrow eye slits on the bronze helmet beneath his cloak’s hood stared at Randall, like some armored behemoth lurking in the dark, peering at its prey with keen interest from the shadows.
Randall imagined the Heavy-Armored Scorpions hidden beneath the bone-white boulders of the Kana Plain, the Evil Sea Crabs Mr. Norman had once mentioned, or the Demon Monarch’s legendary mount, the Earth-Devouring Demon Insect. His own imagination left him struggling to breathe.
The next second, the Copper Armor Knight’s freezing hand armor enthusiastically grasped Randall’s hand, shaking it vigorously up and down.
"You must be Randall Rysk, the one Uncle mentioned, right? Nice to meet you, Randall, my friend!" A rather young voice rang out from inside the rust-mottled bronze helmet, sounding surprisingly close to his own age. "I am Samo, a warrior knight from a faraway monastery."
"Ah... yes, nice to meet you, Samo... the monk." Randall felt as though his hands were soaked in a bucket of cold water.
The freezing armor and the incredibly warm, instant friendliness of the person before him formed a rather jarring sense of unreality. It was so jarring that it felt as if it came from another world, he thought.