Translator: CinderTL
Thump!
With a dull thud, the Winged Kobold's upper body slid down the bloody groove, the severed edge as smooth as a mirror.
Just like the Bloodscale Kobold before it, the gushing blood hadn't even hit the ground when it burst into roaring flames in midair.
The fire tongues curled inward, consuming the demonic beast in an instant, reducing the ferocious creature to a pile of ash.
The white object clutched in its left claw tumbled free, rolling to Roland's feet.
A tiny, crimson crystal flickered faintly in the ashes, emitting a weak glow.
But Roland had no time to examine it.
Despite repeated practice at the manor, he no longer collapsed from exhaustion after performing the Momentum Slash as he had the first time. Yet the overwhelming sense of fatigue still washed over him like a tidal wave.
Gazing at the Executioner nearby, who indiscriminately slaughtered humans and demonic beasts alike, Roland forced himself to remain standing, concealing his exhaustion.
He silently plunged his iron sword into the ground for support, using the hilt to steady his trembling hands as he slowly exhaled a turbid breath.
"Are you alright?"
"Me?"
The Executioner's azure pupils trembled slightly, a lingering shock still visible in her eyes.
Though their previous encounter with the Winged Kobold had been brief, its impenetrable scales, superhuman strength, and the terrifying speed and maneuverability granted by its single wing had left a deep impression on Roland.
It was no ordinary human opponent.
Yet the man before him had managed to defeat it.
The Executioner's gaze slowly shifted to Roland's face.
The handsome features still bore a youthful freshness, clearly indicating a young age.
Despite the ferocity of his earlier strike, it lacked the power of a transcendent warrior.
"Cough, cough, cough."
She coughed a few times, spitting up a mouthful of clotted blood. Then, using her sleeve, she slowly wiped away the blood from her lips and pushed herself to her feet, leaning on the ground for support.
"That was a combat technique, wasn't it?"
This was the first time Roland had heard the Executioner speak.
In stark contrast to her mysterious appearance and ruthless methods, her voice was surprisingly clear, even possessing a feminine softness.
Wait...
A woman?
Noticing the slender figure beneath the black robes, Roland tentatively asked, "May I ask... Miss, what is your name?"
"Theresa Hernandez. Just call me Theresa."
Theresa lifted her mask, revealing silver hair that fluttered in the wind.
Her calm, azure eyes held a hint of sharpness.
Her high, prominent nose gave her face a striking, masculine aura, yet her lips were soft and delicate.
Her lips were pressed into a thin line, like a sword unsheathed.
Elegant, deadly, and radiating an undeniable sharpness.
But Roland remained unfazed by her beauty.
As she approached him slowly, he unconsciously tightened his grip on his sword hilt, his gaze drifting to her pristine white neck.
Though he was currently weakened, this woman named Theresa had clearly suffered more severe injuries during their earlier battle.
If she dared to draw her sword, Roland was confident he could kill her with a single strike.
"There's no need to be tense."
Seeing his reaction, Theresa stopped about three steps away from Roland.
Her gaze was unfocused, her eyes fixed on something behind him, as if something were there.
After a moment of silence, a clear, emotionless voice slowly spoke.
"Roland... Oh... orphaned at a young age. Your life has been truly tragic. But beyond that..."
Theresa frowned slightly, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.
"The rest of your information is shrouded in a fog, impossible to see through. It's quite strange."
Roland's pupils suddenly contracted, his brow furrowing deeply as he scrutinized Theresa's face.
He was certain he had never met this mysterious woman before.
How could she know so much about him?
Seeing Roland's expression grow increasingly serious, Theresa simply shook her head gently.
"Rest assured, you're not like those scum. You're trustworthy. I won't harm you. As for why I know so much about you..."
Theresa's arm trembled slightly as she sheathed her slender sword.
"You can understand it as a power bestowed upon me by God."
God?
Roland's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly at the word.
On the surface, however, he maintained his composure.
While silently recovering his strength, he spoke slowly in a steady voice.
"In that case, Miss Theresa..."
Roland narrowed his eyes slightly, a smile playing on his lips.
"For fairness' sake, shouldn't you introduce yourself as well?"
"My apologies."
Theresa inclined her head slightly. With her left hand, she lifted a corner of her tattered black robe, and with her right hand over her chest, she performed a formal bow.
"Theresa Hernandez, formerly a member of the Church of Truth."
The Church of Truth?
It must be one of the many churches that had sprung up like weeds in recent years, as Bronson had mentioned.
As Roland grasped the situation, he also caught a key detail.
"Formerly?"
"Yes."
Theresa straightened up, her already pale complexion growing even more wan.
"I've left the Church of Truth. Now I'm just a free-roaming adventurer."
"But I never expected my first stop on this journey..."
A flicker of disgust crossed Theresa's eyes as she thought of the greedy, ruthless outlaws of Pine Wood Town.
"...would be even more corrupt than the Church of Truth itself."
Before Roland could press her further, Theresa bowed again and spoke softly.
"Thank you for your help just now. I will repay this kindness in the future."
"I have urgent matters to attend to, so I must take my leave now. Farewell for now, Mr. Roland."
Without waiting for his reply, she turned and walked away.
Her steps remained graceful and elegant, though her form swayed slightly. Yet her speed was astonishing. In the blink of an eye, she vanished from Roland's sight.
Whew.
Watching Theresa disappear, Roland exhaled deeply, lingering doubts still swirling in his mind.
Was what she said true? Divine power granted by a God?
He shook his head, tucking these unfathomable questions away for later.
Roland bent down, carefully placing the tiny red crystal into his pouch. Then he reached for the white object that had rolled to his feet.
But the moment his fingertip touched the surface, his pupils snapped shut.
Thanks to the Furnace Heart trait, he could clearly sense a faint tremor deep within the white object.
It was a unique emotional ripple, characteristic of fire.
Faint yet vibrant, like the last spark dancing among the embers.
Suppressing the surge of surprise, Roland held the white object before his eyes for a closer examination.
It was stained with traces of soil, clearly unearthed not long ago.
Its smooth, jade-like texture concealed a hard core, and its hollow, cylindrical structure resembled a meticulously crafted wrist guard.
"Bone structure?"
Recalling recent events, a shocking theory surfaced.
"Could this be a fragment of the colossal remains that sparked the bloody conflict between the Blazing Sun Church and the goblins?"
At this thought, Roland's knuckles clenched involuntarily, and the object in his palm suddenly seemed to grow scorching hot.
The memory of the demonic beasts frantically fighting over the bones during the battle he had observed in the forest lingered vividly in his mind.
Not to mention the involvement of the Blazing Sun Church, an unknown faction.
With this in mind, he quickly stowed the bone fragment in the pouch at his waist.
Just then, an unnatural rustling sound erupted from the canopy above.
Roland turned toward the sound and saw a line of demonic beasts emerge from the shadows of the forest.
He quickly scanned the battlefield, confirming that no dangerous aberrant demonic creatures were among them. Relief washed over him.
Feeling his stamina had recovered by more than half, a slight smile tugged at his lips.
Clang!
He yanked his longsword from the ground, sending a few clumps of damp earth flying.
The sharp blade flashed with an intimidating cold light in the dappled sunlight.
As the sword danced through the air, the demonic beasts' mournful howls echoed through the forest, and arcs of foul-smelling blood painted the air.
During this, a line of text seemed to flicker across his Job Panel.
But Roland didn't pause to examine it closely. He merely glanced at the information for the Warrior Class Change.
Requirements: Strength 9, Agility 6, Five combat-related skills at max level (4/5), Kill 100/100 hostile creatures
Seeing that he had met the requirement to slay 100 hostile demonic beasts for the Warrior Class Change, he flicked his wrist, shaking off the viscous blood clinging to his blade.
The thought of the skeleton in his waist pouch potentially attracting troublesome predators like Winged Kobolds forced Roland to keep moving.
He pushed through the final patch of brush, and the sunlight at the forest's edge suddenly burst into view.
As a sharp whistle echoed through the trees, the familiar sound of hooves grew louder.
Black Wind, a black lightning bolt, thundered toward him, his glossy mane streaming in the wind.
"Good boy," Roland murmured, gently stroking the horse's mane before leaping nimbly onto his back.
With a sharp command, man and horse vanished in a cloud of dust toward Pine Wood Town, leaving only the fading echo of hoofbeats on the forest path.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye, the journey uneventful and peaceful.
Roland's tense nerves finally eased slightly as the towering watchtower north of Pine Wood Town came into view.
He dismounted, passed the guards' routine inspection, and entered the town. He headed straight for the Adventurer's Guild.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, he found the guild eerily quiet. The vast hall was completely deserted.
Roland finally understood the reason when his gaze fell on the figure in a black robe standing before the counter.
He walked slowly toward the counter and found the bartender still in his usual lazy pose, his expression unchanged even when facing Theresa, the Executioner.
Glancing sideways, Roland saw the bartender holding a parchment scroll—it was none other than the very commission to investigate the demonic beast activity he had submitted earlier.
"So she took the commission..."
Sensing movement beside her, Theresa turned her head and, seeing Roland, gave a slight nod.
"The total reward is two silver and fifteen copper."
The bartender casually tossed a heavy coin purse onto the counter with a dull thud.
"You can count it if you like."
"No need."
Theresa swiftly tucked the purse into her robe and then said to Roland in a detached tone, "Farewell."
Before the words had even faded, she turned and left, her black robe billowing as she quickly vanished through the door.
Roland had no interest in probing this enigmatic woman. In fact, he felt wary of her, especially after she mentioned "God," and instinctively kept his distance.
When she bid farewell, Roland simply nodded in response. Then he unfastened the pouch from his waist and placed it, along with the copy of the commission, securely on the counter.
"Whoa! So it's you, the newbie. It's unbelievable you actually survived!"
The bartender squinted, recognizing Roland's identity with a hint of mockery in his voice.
He expertly counted the spoils in the pouch, letting out a loud whistle.
"Sixty goblin ears! Impressive! I didn't expect you had it in you, kid."
The crisp sound of coins clinking came from beneath the counter. The bartender swiftly counted the reward and pushed the heavy coin pouch toward Roland.
"According to the rules, each goblin ear is worth eight copper coins, totaling four silver coins and eighty copper coins."
Roland hefted the pouch, a smile tugging at his lips.
Combined with the spoils he'd looted from the goblin camp, this adventure of less than ten days had earned him nearly nine silver coins.
That was more than he'd made in six months as a blacksmith apprentice!
This job was incredibly lucrative!
And besides that...
Feeling the heavy weight of the bones in the pouch at his left hip, Roland grew increasingly eager to return to the manor.
(End of the Chapter)