Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

The amount of information was far too overwhelming—Lance had no time to carefully read through the class description that already sounded unusual just from its name.

Because after their brief moment of fear, the group of Goblins seemed to muster their courage again, as if to mask their inner panic, roaring as they charged toward him once more.

They wanted to kill him again.

“Then come.”

Lance’s gaze sharpened.

The Goblins felt in terror that this human who had returned from death was now emanating an even more terrifying aura than before.

That oppressive presence was like the high-level predators they had once encountered deep within the forest.

This time, Lance took the initiative to charge.

He raised his shield and knocked aside a Goblin scout lunging toward him. The short sword in his hand flicked out like a venomous serpent’s tongue, precisely slicing across the glaring red weak point beneath its armpit.

“Puchi!”Green blood sprayed everywhere like a high-pressure jet.

It splattered all over Lance—and directly coated the face of a nearby Goblin brute, blinding it.

The brute panicked, trying to wipe its eyes.

How could Lance let such an opportunity slip?

He stepped forward. This most basic straight thrust from Castro Swordsmanship was, at this moment, astonishingly fast.

The blade pierced cleanly through the red mark on the brute’s throat.

A massive gush of blood erupted like a fountain, splashing across the ground.

He was surprised to discover that the effect of 【Weakness Insight】 was simply brutal—every strike caused massive bleeding.

These two clean and decisive instant kills directly shocked all the Goblins present.

The next ten minutes—

Became a one-sided massacre.

Green blood stained the pristine white cobblestone shallows into a chaotic patchwork.

Until the last Goblin fell amid a desperate scream.

Lance slowly straightened his back, thick green blood dripping continuously from his leather armor.

At that moment, a burst of hurried and dense footsteps came from the forest to the side.

“Over there! Hurry!”

A large group of fully armed Adventurers pushed aside the bushes and rushed into the clearing.

However, when they saw the scene before them, everyone stopped in unison.

Goblin corpses lay scattered everywhere in pools of blood—some decapitated, others with massive holes torn through their chests.

Green blood pooled across the ground, reflecting a strange sheen under the sunlight.

A figure, completely drenched in green blood to the point that their face was unrecognizable, stood there silently.

Behind him lay the unconscious Damian.

Among this rescue party was the injured Adventurer whom Lance had previously persuaded to retreat.

It seemed Lance’s words had struck him.

Instead of continuing to flee alone, he had followed the guild’s tactical map and desperately found other nearby advancing vanguard teams.

The leader of this group was none other than a well-known professional Adventurer of Graystone Town.

“Gale Chaser” Gareth.

He was also one of the top experts in this vanguard force—the first to complete the mission of clearing a Gnoll stronghold.

Yet despite rushing here as fast as they could, what they saw was this scene.

Several younger members swallowed nervously, their faces turning pale.

They had never witnessed such a violent and bloody aftermath.

Normal Adventurers hunted monsters to complete missions or harvest materials—usually stopping once the objective was achieved.

But the scene before them—

Rather than a battle, it looked more like a venting slaughter.

Lance also noticed their arrival and put away his equipment.

He walked over to the boy, bent down, and steadily lifted Damian into his arms.

Then he stepped toward the group of Adventurers.

As he approached step by step, the oppressive aura mixed with the stench of blood washed over them.

Several Adventurers with weaker nerves unconsciously took a step back, opening a path.

Only the leading squad remained unmoving.

Gareth, clad in finely crafted silver-white chainmail, had a longsword at his waist flowing with wind-element magic.

Unlike the others, he showed no fear—instead, he looked at Lance with unmistakable admiration.

“The vanguard has wagons specifically for transporting the wounded. They’re just behind us.”

Gareth spoke first, his voice steady and firm.

“You can head there and return to town with them.”

Lance paused, glancing at the man with a hint of surprise.

Gareth continued, his tone sincere.

“What’s your name?”

“I’ll report these Goblin kills to the guild truthfully. When the time comes, you can go straight to the counter to collect your reward—no need to worry about anyone skimming from it.”

Lance fell silent for a moment.

“Raven.”

“Thank you.”

After speaking, he carried Damian straight through the crowd and headed toward the rear.

Only after Lance’s figure disappeared into the depths of the forest—

Did a man carrying a longbow behind Gareth finally withdraw his gaze.

He was a ranger-type professional with sharp perception and keen judgment.

“Boss, he doesn’t seem to be a classed professional yet.”

The ranger quickly made a professional assessment while looking at the field of corpses.

“But he’s very strong.”

“From what I saw of his movement just now—even though he was covered in blood, he didn’t seem seriously injured.”

“To be able to fight nearly twenty well-trained Goblins alone before even taking a class, and still remain this composed afterward…”

The ranger shook his head, admiration evident in his tone.

“Very impressive. If it were me before taking a class, I definitely couldn’t have done it.”

Another burly professional carrying a massive two-handed sword stepped forward and asked:

“Boss, that look you gave him just now—were you thinking of recruiting him?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Having followed Gareth for years, he could immediately tell his captain appreciated talent.

Gareth turned his head, glanced at his teammate, and curved his lips into a faint smile.

“No rush.”

“Let’s finish this Large-Scale Joint Extermination Commission first.”

“As long as he continues down this path, as long as he comes to challenge the Underground Dungeon Labyrinth, we’ll meet again sooner or later.”

Gareth gazed into the distance—toward the dungeon entrance hidden in the shadows of the mountains.

“Graystone Town isn’t a big place.”

“All true powerhouses will eventually gather at that dungeon.”

……

The returning convoy rattled along the gravel road, wheels creaking harshly as they rolled over uneven ground.

Lance sat in the corner of one of the open wagons transporting the wounded, surrounded by a strangely empty space.

The other Adventurers pressed themselves as far to the edges of the carriage as possible, trying to stay away from this ominous figure.

It wasn’t fear of his presence—it was pure physiological rejection.

At this moment, Lance’s leather armor was already soaked through with dark green Goblin blood. After several hours of fermentation—

Under the slightly warm afternoon sun, it emitted a suffocating sour stench.