Thousand-Faced Dragon

Chapter 427 Adventure
Rean didn't sleep soundly that night.

To be precise, his body and mind were no longer able to hold on. Unlike his previous practice battles against certain heroic spirits, his battle with Wu was a true bloodbath.

Tearing apart, brain rupture, heart piercing, marrow extraction, all five fingers broken. Rean was not only experiencing a death match, but also a form of torture akin to being slowly sliced ​​to death.

Slaughter might simply be the instinct of this heroic spirit, this war ghost.

Life is inherently meaningless.

Opening his eyes, Rean subconsciously repeated the phrase, Wu's favorite saying. He suddenly woke up and looked around.

Seeing that the little guy was still snoring, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The little one was already drooling, and her paper-white cheeks were beaming with a smile. Perhaps the journey had been a bit tiring for her, but being able to travel alone with friends she hadn't seen in a long time was a good thing for her.

Compared to the initial period, she clung to Rean much less frequently. It wasn't because she had other friends, but because she had learned a lot and knew it wasn't good. Some things in her memories were also reminding her that Rean was busy and she shouldn't bother him.

"little things."

Looking at the sleepy little guy, Rean felt a warmth in his heart.

She did help Rean by making him underestimate his attack power as a warrior monk; without her blade, he probably would have had to return by now.

Most adventurer groups rely on warriors as their main force, not only because they are cheap and plentiful, but also because they have low mana consumption and high durability. Rean can use mana to continue, but he can't go very far by using mana to clear out mobs.

With this little guy's swordsmanship, Rean can turn most battles into practice.

Often, when faced with a troublesome opponent, he only needs to keep them occupied and let them deliver the fatal blow.

The adjusted combat rhythm significantly reduced the temporary squad's resource consumption.

"Friend." The little guy still had a smile on his face, seemingly happy that he had finally been able to help.

Rean went over and covered him with the blanket.

He took out his pocket watch (a gift from someone), checked the time, and it was 4:30 a.m. He had started meditating and resting around 1 a.m., so it had probably been less than four hours by now.

He was kicked out of the dream because he had reached the limits of his body and mind; if he died any further, he would truly be gone.

Let's go out for a walk.

My spirits haven't fully recovered, but I'm quite invigorated.

Rean clenched his fist, knowing that he had probably had too many nightmares and deaths, which had caused his body and mind to be in a state of over-excitement.

"The glorious hero marches forward, and the rampaging dragon falls at his feet."

But as soon as he stepped out of the tent, he heard the bard's heroic hymn.

In the bonfire not far away, some people were still enjoying wine and barbecue, while others were clapping and cheering, asking the poet to sing his favorite songs.

Rean glanced around. At this time, most people were asleep, but the others were as excited as if it were daytime. There were probably only twenty or thirty people left. If he wasn't mistaken, they should have just returned from a deeper place.

It's normal to be underground for a while, with a four or five-hour time difference, and judging from their excited and relaxed expressions, they must have made quite a bit of money.

"That ghost spider was right in front of us, it almost laid its eggs on our team's priest's face, I chopped off its leg with a throwing axe."

There's also a dwarf bragging online, recounting the information below. Normally, the specific combat data below could be sold for money, but judging from the helpless looks on his teammates' faces, it's clear that it's impossible to stop the dwarf from bragging.

There are free stories to listen to? Rean was intrigued. After he walked over, the surroundings became eerily quiet.

Even the dwarf, who was spitting out wine and saliva with every sip, fell silent. He looked over uneasily.

Uh, is this bullying?
Rean sighed. He knew that having an "old-timer" with an official background among a group of untrained individuals would be quite a downer, especially since...
"Don't worry, I still have some common sense. I won't just randomly send out intelligence to detect evil."

Instantly, the surroundings became noisy again.

It seems that each team has some dangerous elements. In reality, many of those who venture into the world of adventurers, where productivity is not high, are thugs who couldn't make it in normal professions.

Of course, not many will actually be targeted for "slaying evil," but most adventurers struggle to determine if they're on the path of good, or, moreover, have committed some evil deeds, lacking the confidence to avoid glowing red when detecting evil. This is why paladins with travel experience won't casually use the "detect evil" skill unless they see evil right before their eyes.

"That look in my eyes, is it saying that I'm just the kind of reckless naive guy who randomly throws things around to detect evil? Well, if my abilities weren't sealed, I would actually like to throw them around now."

Rean sighed. Outsiders always have some misunderstandings about us paladins. We're not stupid, how could we do something as stupid as throwing firecrackers into the toilet? Of course, we should remember each potential villain with a narrowed eye and investigate them in detail after we get out!

"Can I borrow it?"

Rean, on the other hand, casually found a bard and borrowed his unused lute.

After a few adjustments, I started playing. My technique wasn't great, but it was above average.

It's a widely circulated bar tune, tinged with joy, loneliness, and a touch of helplessness. In the dim light of most bars at night, poets would play this tune to entertain guests and offer them a break.

As a result, the atmosphere around them became lively, and someone even dared to bring over a bottle of beer.

This isn't to say that Rean's skills are particularly good; the skills he acquired from his profession as a poet are merely enough to make a living. But the bar tune he played undoubtedly suggests that he is just one of the adventurers.

Rean played a little tune, watching the adventurers around the campfire, their faces either young or excited. They yearned for wealth, honor, and adventure.

As a musician, he observed everything around him and listened to their stories and experiences.

Some people excitedly recounted their haul: they were lucky enough to hunt down a wyvern and earn a year's worth of money in one go.

"This time, we can take a whole year off!!" It seems they really intend to take a year-long vacation.

"A year? You'll lose it all in half a month at most." The gambler has been seen through.

The changes on the ground, the gradually revitalizing dock area, were just trivial news to them. Several of them were still complaining about the reduction of industries such as the red-light district and casinos, which made it difficult for them to spend money freely.

Many exciting attractions (such as the gladiatorial arena) are gone, and many young girls have gone to the textile mills, significantly reducing the dock area's appeal to some.

Those dissatisfied but dared not complaining eyes glanced at Rean from time to time, but Rean couldn't be bothered to pay them any attention.

"Heh, you guys don't understand, there are so many branches opening up in the South Gate area."

"Clang!" Rean plucked a random note.

Then, the surroundings became quiet again.

But then he sighed, continued playing, and the surroundings became lively again.

Some things can't be completely eradicated; if you block one side, they'll naturally leak to the other. Unless you can control the entire city and launch a thorough crackdown.

Well, then it's likely that some of these cities were missed.

Oh, and there's also the survival issue of those "trash" people. Those useless trash who have no skills will become new destabilizing factors if they lose their jobs and income.

Rean sighed again and silently continued playing the piano.
"Let's take it one step at a time. We can only do what we can handle." Rean wanted to do a thorough cleaning, but he was afraid the entire kingdom couldn't afford the consequences.

Rean looked around again and realized that not all adventurers were like that. He even looked down on those "barbarians" who lived for the moment.

Around the campfire, small cliques gathered, some focused on post-war merriment, others on long-term development, and still others emphasizing honor and prestige.

Some of the names and stories they mentioned were also old acquaintances of Rean.

Dimon and his knights gradually built up a very good reputation. Adventurers disliked the paladins for their indiscriminate scouting of evil, but they were also grateful for their selfless support and help.

The other young hero, the renowned masked swordswoman Hela, was described by them as a seasoned swordswoman in her thirties, a dashing and reliable senior.

Unlike outsiders who focus on the brave adventurers from afar, these local adventurers pay more attention to their fellow adventurers back home.

Rean also heard the names of many new locals, those from the Adventurers' Guild, nobles, and the Church, who were also bringing their new generation into the ranks.

(End of this chapter)