Chapter 114: Is That It? How Could I Possibly Lose?

Aina continued to reason earnestly with Roland, but he simply filled out the form quickly and smiled as he handed it over.

“Mr. Roland, please reconsider. Even if you are strong, you can’t fully guarantee the safety of the child behind you…”

“Aster doesn’t need to become an adventurer. She is my sword.”

Where did this child come from? Is he playing some kind of hero game?

Aina furrowed her brow. She felt a certain fondness for Roland, who seemed to be traveling alone with his younger sister, and instinctively cared for him a little more.

Having worked at the guild for several years, she knew all too well that although the rise of gods and their followers had lessened the dangers of the dungeon, it was still far from something to be taken lightly.

Over the past few years, she had witnessed many scenes of life and death. Even powerful followers could not guarantee there would be no casualties, let alone the lesser ones. Every year, young dreamers died within this labyrinthine city.

She could not save their fates, but at least for those before her eyes, she wished to change their course as much as possible.

Although regulations forbade her from stopping Roland from entering the dungeon, it did not mean she could not offer him other assistance.

“I understand, Mr. Roland. But before you head into the dungeon, please allow me to introduce you to a few followers. I know some reliable friends among them, and I can guarantee these gods will never treat you as mere merchandise.”

Driven by genuine kindness, Aina was prepared to use her personal connections. To avoid offending Roland, she even stood up and bowed deeply to him.

Could such pure goodwill still exist in this world?

Roland looked at Aina with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Just as he was about to reply, a rough voice suddenly interrupted from the side.

“Hey, can’t you see Miss Aina is so troubled? You blind fool.”

Roland said nothing, but his eyes darkened slightly. Turning his head, he saw a tall, rugged-looking orc approaching. With strange ears, Roland recalled this race should be classified as the boar-tribe among orcs.

“No, Mr. Allen, this kid hasn’t joined any follower yet. He’s only here to ask about the dungeon…”

Aina’s face paled. As the guild’s most popular staff member, she naturally had many admirers. The orc named Allen before her was one of them.

Thanks to the wave brought by Freya’s strongest, many gods had taken interest in this race, integrating them into their followers. Allen was among them and had recently been promoted to level 2. Though the assembly of gods had not yet convened, so no title was awarded, he had officially entered the ranks of senior adventurers.

Because of this, Allen had been pestering Aina more frequently lately. It was said his patron god valued him highly, but Aina had no liking for this fellow and regarded him as a nuisance. Beyond personality, the key point was that he lacked brains.

“So, a kid without even joining a follower, yet he dares to pester Miss Aina…”

Allen smirked, rolled up his sleeves revealing muscular arms, and strode toward Roland with a sinister grin.

“Stop! I told you, this kid is not bothering me… Allen, this is guild territory, you can’t mess around here!”

“I’m not messing around. You ungrateful brat, I’m just giving him a lesson as a senior adventurer!”

Ignoring Aina’s reprimand, Allen smiled ingratiatingly but showed no sign of stopping, his words harsh.

“A lesson? You’re not even qualified. Do you think half the world stands behind you?”

Roland chuckled lightly, held back Aster’s raised hand, and stepped forward to face the orc. His smile was as warm as sunlight, as if completely unafraid of the situation.

Such an action was undoubtedly the best provocation to Allen.

Because of Aina’s shout, staff members nearby quickly ran inside the guild, seemingly to fetch reinforcements. Yet most adventurers simply cast their gaze over, eager to watch the show.

“New face, huh? A rookie?”

“Coming to Oralie and acting so impulsively… he’s in for a rough time.”

“Isn’t it perfect? Allen just got promoted to level 2. Let’s see this outsider suffer a bit. That’s the fastest way to understand what being an adventurer entails.”

Teasing, anticipation, excitement—all sorts of emotions and voices mingled, attracting more attention.

Still, no one stepped in to stop the conflict. Not all followers were blindly kind-hearted, and many adventurers felt this was unnecessary.

Because the outcome was obvious.

It was rare but not unheard of for a level 1 adventurer to be bested by a talented newcomer. But at level 2, such incidents ceased entirely.

The promotion to senior adventurer was not a cruel joke by the gods but reflected an unbridgeable gap.

Many adventurers in Oralie remained at level 1, which was proof enough.

At level 1, even with high growth potential, one’s physical abilities were just mildly exceptional—able to jump a few meters high, sometimes breaking through a roof.

After reaching level 2, these abilities underwent a qualitative leap: carrying a person to a rooftop nearly ten meters high, surviving a fall of hundreds of meters onto non-solid ground without fatal injuries became commonplace.

While race traits might compensate for level 1 gaps, level 2 marked a fundamental difference.

Within the guild, no matter how arrogant Allen was, he wouldn’t recklessly endanger someone’s life. At worst, he would just teach the newcomer a lesson.

“You little brat!”

Allen’s impulsive nature boiled over when he heard Roland’s provocation and noticed the growing crowd. His eyes blazed with unrestrained fury.

Since becoming a senior adventurer, his peers had only praised him. This was the first time someone had spoken to him so disrespectfully. Veins bulged on his forehead as he erupted in rage, charging at Roland like a war machine.

Though not especially fast-looking, Allen’s speed surprised Roland.

Perfect. Time to test the so-called senior adventurer’s level.

As Allen rushed forward, countless ways to kill him flashed through Roland’s mind.

Even when he only had a substitute before, he could have reduced this orc to ashes with ease. Without using any power, the body born from the black mud of creation possessed physical qualities rivaling a heroic spirit.

No need to dodge—he could have collided fists, punched through the orc’s arm, and left a hole revealing the afterlife on his torso.

Yet he did none of that. He simply followed his instincts, trusted his potential, and for the first time fought from Roland’s own perspective.

His punches were straightforward and clumsy, with exaggerated motions, stiff body, many openings, and wide gaps.

In the blink of an eye, with his extraordinary dynamic vision, Roland saw the orc’s movements slow drastically, every trajectory crystal clear. More astonishingly, countless insights sparked in his mind like lightning.

They dissected the fight minutely, revealing what could be absorbed and improved. Gradually, Roland understood how to use the least force for the greatest effect.

Impressive.

After just one glance, the orc’s technique and flaws were laid bare. Roland even intuitively grasped many ways to better use his strength. Before such thought, even an ordinary man like himself had a chance to win, for the gap in skill and mindset between him and the orc was like heaven and earth.

The root cause of this gap was called talent.

Roland sidestepped with minimal movement, his hand clawing into the orc’s extended arm, seizing a weak point. The orc, about to strike again, suddenly felt powerless, his raised fist faltering.

At the same time, Roland used his side step to elbow the orc’s right waist, perfectly avoiding the fat-laden abdomen and sending a tearing pain from spine to limbs.

The orc instinctively lost balance, couldn’t maintain posture, and was easily manipulated by Roland, who used the arm like a flagpole, pushing it into the ground and forcing him to fall face-first in a heap.

*Bang!*

The massive body slammed the floor with a harsh sound.

An ordinary man? Such a creature?

Just as the fallen orc had this thought, a chill ran down his spine, goosebumps erupting all over.

He quickly raised his head and saw only a shoe tip approaching.

Like kicking a rotten ball, Roland’s back foot jabbed forward, striking the orc’s head heavily. The orc rolled several times on the ground before stopping, truly resembling a pig wallowing in the mud.

The guild, once noisy, fell silent for a moment at the unexpected scene. Then shocked voices erupted, shaking the roof as if it might lift off.

More gazes quickly shifted past Allen, focusing on Roland, who hadn’t moved half a step and wore an expression of utmost calm.

He looked thoughtfully at his fist, muttering words that were either admiration or mockery.

“A mere brawler’s talent—I have that too.”

Suddenly, Roland understood why the godly hero was a monster leading humanity. Just now, he had used far less strength than the orc but effortlessly achieved such a stunning result.

Their realms were not even comparable. The orc’s moves, techniques, and even next intentions were as obvious as a student passing notes in class. Impossible to ignore.

Yet to onlookers, this only proved Roland’s unfathomable depth.

“He actually defeated a level 2?”

“Just a human… Are all the newcomers monsters?”

“He hasn’t joined a follower yet, right? We must notify the gods immediately.”

The clamorous voices wouldn’t cease, but Roland only glanced at Aina, who wore a guilty expression.

“Sorry, Mr. Roland…”

“It’s alright… Though you tried to protect me, the real reason he attacked was jealousy over me having a good kid like Aster.”

Roland smiled lightly, genuinely. What had happened not only confirmed the strength of level 2 adventurers but also deepened his control over power.

Back in the Type-Moon world, chances like this were rare. Roland usually faced either weaklings easily suppressed or odd heroic spirits who fought with flashy moves and noble phantasms.

Such a willing opponent, delivering skill and experience, was exactly what Roland needed.

Aina’s expression softened, watching Roland. After a moment, she sighed softly.

“You’re so gentle…”

Perhaps logically, the incident wasn’t Aina’s fault. But as one involved, even if Roland resented her, she wouldn’t mind—it was her mistake.

Yet Roland remained indifferent, as if the matter was trivial, like brushing dust off his clothes.

Such magnanimity, combined with his ease in defeating a level 2, made Aina foresee a bright future for Roland.

“To achieve such a feat without blessings, you’re bound to become a famous adventurer.”

Aina’s eyes shone with admiration. “Soon, many gods will come seeking you. Your wish to freely choose your follower can come true.”

“Well, I still plan to explore the dungeon first…”

Just as Roland intended to politely decline again, he sensed something and turned around.

The orc, kicked aside, was slowly rising, blood flowing from a forehead wound, eyes filled with rage. Since Roland hadn’t used much strength in his experiment, the orc regained consciousness quickly.

With furious eyes, muscles tensed, arms braced like a war machine, he charged at Roland with terrifying momentum.

“Mr. Roland! Run! He’s lost his mind!”

Defeated by an unblessed newcomer, Allen foresaw that he and his follower’s names would become a lasting joke in Oralie’s history.

Stubborn as he was, his only hope was to regain face by defeating Roland, maybe using carelessness as an excuse.

He could win! Though strong, Roland lacked his power. Against absolute strength, skill meant nothing!

“Don’t underestimate me! I’m a level 2 senior adventurer! I will defeat you!”

But Roland met the orc’s charge with cold eyes.

“Boring. I’ve already learned your techniques and fighting style. You’re worthless now.”

Without dodging or any fancy moves, Roland casually raised his fist and struck.

“Ahhhh!!!”

With a terrible scream, the orc’s eyes rolled back as agonizing pain surged through his insides. Blood sprayed as he flew like a cannonball, smashing into the guild wall with a thunderous crash that made the building tremble.

As astonished adventurers froze, ready to help or flee, Roland nonchalantly shrugged and summarized the event lightly.

“Is this what a level 2 adventurer is? How could I lose?”

(End of chapter)