'Lantern Grass of Chablis' inn is located at the highest point of this town, facing east on a cliff, resembling the grand arched wooden halls where ancient heroes and divine beings in myths resided, standing atop the rocks, weathered by wind and rain, water seeping into the solid wood now turning it faintly black. From the hall downward, the gray-white cliffside is dotted with a row of densely packed windows, which from a distance, give the unique impression of a giant beehive or dragon's lair on the cliff.
But in fact, those are the inn's guest rooms. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel-fire.ɴet
In the room where 'Mane Wolf' Macaro was temporarily staying, the door had been pushed open a quarter hour ago. The experienced mercenary group leader looked up from a map of the Chablis region, the term he heard from his subordinate causing his thick black eyebrows to raise—his right hand, still wearing deer leather gloves, holding a magnifying glass with a bronze handle, but he had already started speaking: "Section 314?"
"'In an official task, if a conflict arises between mercenaries over any target. A temporary merger should be attempted to be viewed as a joint task. The merger details should be negotiated between both parties.'"
The elderly man with white hair and beard, sitting on a wicker chair by the windowsill, replied. The old man was deeply engrossed in a nearly four-inch-thick book with a red cover in his hands, seemingly uninterested in the topic.
"Master Liwuze, can this be extended in such a way?"
"It's not impossible." The old man replied.
"Good, then let me first see what kind of character that young man is," Macaro waved a hand at the young man standing before his table and said, "Go, let Redi test him out." But he immediately called the other back: "Wait, has Ecco been found?"
"No news yet, Captain."
"Alright, I understand. You go." Macaro shook his head, huffed, muttering, "This time I must teach that kid a lesson. Looks like I've been too lenient with him, and if this continues, I'll have a hard time accounting for it in front of the Lord."
The old man, while reading his book, a smile flashed across his face, as he slightly shook his head.
"Your name is Brand?"
"I am Brand." Brand lifted his head, looking at this young man who was nearly a head taller than himself. His hair was an unusual pure white, with eyes as clear and transparent as amber, his face delicately feminine, almost similar to that of a woman's.
Yabuli? Brand thought, the only impression he had of this minority living in the Heavenly Destiny Country was that silver-haired sword saint young man, Gurekais, who was active on the land of Vorn about thirty years ago.
He anticipated that the other party would not so easily accept his request, but didn't expect 'Mane Wolf' Macaro to send such a young man to test him. To be honest, except for Revealer and Chosen One, there were very few young people of Brand's age who could surpass him.
23-level strength, already considered Black Iron Upper. Besides, a professional level 15 for any profession is the first threshold, once surpassed, the profession starts transitioning from first-level power to second-level power stage.
In fact, despite losing the Azure Light Piercing, Brand's strength had even further advanced, reaching as high as 15 energy levels, nearly twelve to thirteen times that of a trained soldier. Though he still appeared a slender young man, when he wanted to, he could easily punch a wild boar to death with one blow.
As long as Brand opened his attribute panel, he could clearly see that his Absolute Strength had reached the terrifying number of 220. This means theoretically, alone in this world, he could easily infiltrate any squad from a second or third-tier army of any country, killing eight of them effortlessly.
Such strength, in the words of the Erune adventurers, is generally referred to as: Squad Leader Level strength.
Moreover, Brand's hidden strength was far from limited to this. His mere Level 10 Erune Military Swordsmanship was enough to make most of the Erune officers and knights ashamed. Of course, Brand himself didn't think so, just considering himself to be still some distance from his grandfather.
However, before he had finished thinking, he saw the young man already drawing his sword towards him, the sword tip slightly shaking, cold light flashing in his vision.