Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

At this moment, Lance happened to have both hands tightly gripping the necks of two newly pouncing Goblins.

The two green-skinned monsters kicked their legs helplessly in midair while releasing agonized wails.

“What do you mean by that?”

Lance twisted both monsters’ necks apart with force while taking the opportunity to ask a question.

“Because you’re way too different from that idiot Karen! Karen wasn’t nearly as handsome as you!”

Ilysia covered her mouth and burst into giggles.

“The difference between you two is so huge that there’s no way much of his fate can successfully be grafted onto you.”

Lance casually kicked upward the spear belonging to the Lizardman lying on the ground.

Grabbing the spear, he forcefully hurled it outward. The tremendous force directly skewered two Kobolds attempting to approach, pinning them to the ground like candied hawthorns.

Hearing the Witch’s joking explanation, several black lines appeared across Lance’s forehead.“Sorry, Witch Miss. This answer is extremely important to my future, so please be a little more serious.”

“Alright, alright, little handsome guy. You really can’t take jokes at all.”

Ilysia withdrew her smile as her tone became serious.

“But what I said earlier wasn’t wrong either. The greater the difference between your personality and habits compared to Karen’s, the less fate you’ll ultimately be able to graft successfully.”

“I don’t know why the creator of this spell formation chose you to graft onto Karen.”

“But just judging from your current brutal combat techniques and style, you’re far too different from him.”

“What kind of person was Senior Karen originally?”

Lance smashed apart a Gnoll’s jaw with one punch and immediately pressed the question further.

The Witch extended her semi-transparent finger to stroke her chin, putting on an appearance of earnestly recalling memories.

“Karen liked using those broad greatswords, and he was extremely interested in all sorts of complicated knowledge.”

“He especially loved researching mystical spell-related knowledge, and occasionally even used a few auxiliary spells during battle.”

“And he was also very patient and had an excellent temper…”

Ilysia said a great many words of praise in one breath, beginning to chatter endlessly about all the bits and pieces she had once shared with that man.

However, merely hearing the first few conditions was already enough for Lance to completely understand everything.

It wasn’t that the other party had failed to make a move—

Rather, his own choices had caused their carefully laid plans to veer off course.

That mysterious person hidden within the shadows had originally intended to slowly cultivate him using the inheritance of the Aether Silence Demon Swordsman.

If not for the unexpected incident midway through, causing him to decide in advance upon the advanced class Pale Sentinel—

Then the current him should have been desperately training toward the direction of combining greatsword combat with spellcasting in order to successfully advance into a Demon Swordsman.

If that had happened, he would have perfectly matched Karen’s combat habits.

Looking at it this way, his original class choice really had been a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse, directly ruining the other party’s long-planned scheme.

The endlessly chattering Witch suddenly stopped.

As though she had suddenly remembered something important, she added—

“But you should pay attention to one thing. Once this type of spell formation activates, the total amount of fate available for grafting will not simply decrease for no reason.”

“It just becomes less precise.”

“The powerful performance you’re displaying right now will still attract a suitable fragment of fate that will forcibly graft itself onto you in the end.”

“That’s the truly terrifying aspect of this forbidden spell formation.”

Someone else’s fate trajectory?

Lance slightly narrowed his eyes.

Although he did not know what sort of unknown trouble randomly grafted fate might bring him—

As long as it destroyed the predetermined plans of the mastermind behind the scenes, then it was a tremendous victory for him.

Today, he had finally managed to glimpse a portion of the mastermind’s true objective through this opportunity.

This matter absolutely had something to do with whatever the Starry Night Witch had left behind.

As long as he secretly investigated in this direction in the future, sooner or later he would drag out the other party’s fox tail.

Lance raised his right leg and heavily crushed apart the neck of a still-twitching Gnoll beneath his foot.

He lifted his head to stare toward the distant dark forest.

Monsters with blood-red eyes continued emerging from there endlessly.

Tonight’s battle had truly only just begun.

Moreover, Lance’s sharp senses detected a faint sense of danger slowly brewing deep within this forest.

However, facing such circumstances, Lance not only felt no fear, but instead experienced a surge of feverish excitement rising within his heart.

As time slowly passed—

The battle across the shallow shore became increasingly brutal.

The severed limbs and broken remains of various monsters piled higher and higher beneath Lance’s feet, eventually forming a small embankment against the waves.

Even the edge of the previously clear lake water had already been stained with thick sticky blood.

At this moment, Lance himself was no longer completely unscathed.

The rough leather armor on his body had already been utterly destroyed after countless claw strikes and bites.

Torn cloth hung from his body, exposing his well-defined sturdy muscles.

Visible white steam continuously rose from the surface of his scorching skin.

Meanwhile, Ilysia, who had been floating in midair the entire time, was now completely dumbfounded.

This one-sided defensive slaughter had already continued for well over an hour.

During the first thirty minutes after the battle began, she had still been able to leisurely float nearby while endlessly chatting with Lance.

By the second thirty minutes, witnessing the endless carnage and flying flesh below had already begun causing visual fatigue.

And by the time the battle entered the third thirty-minute segment, the Witch’s eyes had become completely vacant.

She was utterly shocked by the inhuman endurance displayed by the young man before her.

He had practically used that violent body technique throughout the entire battle.

Yet his stamina was as boundless and unfathomable as a vast ocean.

Even if a veteran Extraordinary-rank Adventurer fought such a completely unrestricted high-intensity melee battle, this grass-cutting level of slaughter speed should have exhausted them to collapse long ago.

But looking at Lance now—

He had not even emitted a single heavy breath.

After carefully observing for a long time, the Witch could only tell that his lips had become slightly dry, as though he merely felt somewhat thirsty due to sweating too much.

Among all the Professionals she had ever known—

If someone with talent like Karen’s could already be praised by the world as a genius—

Then the black-haired youth bathing in blood atop the shallow shore was absolutely a monster wearing human skin.

After her shock faded, Ilysia quickly detected something abnormal through spell principles.

Something major had gone wrong.

According to the normal operational laws of spell formations, after enduring monster attacks of this intensity, the Fate Trajectory Grafting ritual should already have completed settlement long ago.

Yet this historical projection space still had not dissolved.

Something had definitely gone terribly wrong in one of the links.

She utilized the special soul spell techniques of the Witch race to inspect the space.

Very quickly, she realized that the core judgment behind this historical projection’s fate projection should have been requiring the role-player to resist the monster tide for a certain duration of time.

The key point was the word resist.

However—

Perhaps because the combat power displayed by the young man before her was simply too terrifying—

He had not been defending at all. Instead, he had cleanly slaughtered every single incoming monster tide wave.

If all the enemies were completely slaughtered, could that still be considered resisting within the spell formation’s judgment logic?

Thus, the rigid spell formation could only continuously generate new waves of monsters.

And in order to create pressure against the defensive line, every newly generated wave received slight enhancements in strength.

Yet before the utterly unreasonable terrifying power of this young man, the health and defense of those monsters seemed to possess some sort of fixed execution threshold.

As long as a monster’s resistance to damage did not surpass that red line, then regardless of how many monsters appeared, they would all be slaughtered by his most brutal body techniques.

Because the passive defensive stage of enduring attacks was entirely absent, the time limit of the entire historical projection had been forcibly extended infinitely through this bizarre method.

And the blood-covered youth standing atop the mountain of corpses—

Within this endless slaughter, those dark golden eyes of his had become increasingly feverish.

He seemed to be getting slightly addicted to the battle.