You promised to wreak havoc on the dungeon, but instead you've got Dragon Slime!

“You are my friend, Carolina! My friend is naturally also my father’s honored guest! It’s settled then!”

She didn't give Ron a chance to refuse again, and like a cheerful lark, she turned and ran lightly toward the door, leaving only a string of light words echoing in the air:

"Wash yourself clean tonight, and I'll come pick you up!"

Before the words were even finished, the person had already disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Ron looked at the empty door frame and sighed helplessly.

Only then did he take off the clothes he had just put on and soak in the bathtub that was filled with heat and the fragrance of lavender.

The warm water enveloped his tired body, and he felt so comfortable that he almost groaned.

However, another thought popped into his head, making him somewhat concerned:

"This little girl... she probably didn't see anything she shouldn't have, right? I covered her up very well..."

He subconsciously looked down at his body reflected in the water, and his ears felt slightly hot.

……

Emerald Town, the closest town to Dark Hills, is now bustling with activity, even more so than during festivals.

The town's central square, especially in front of the Adventurers' Guild, was already packed with a massive crowd.

The air was filled with a unique smell of leather, metal, and excited sweat.

The reason is simple—the empire's top adventurer teams: Golden Wind, Silver Blade, Holy Lance...

Their leader and core members actually came to this remote town in person!

Among the crowd, Ross and the members of Walter's team squeezed in, craning their necks like ordinary adventurers, just to catch a glimpse of the legendary figures.

The sounds of vendors hawking their wares filled the air as they seized the opportunity to sell amulets or replicas of equipment and accessories that were said to bring good luck.

"Look! That guy! His entire body is covered in golden armor, it's shining brightly! He must be the captain of the Golden Wind!"

"Nonsense! Look at the aura of that armor! 'Golden Dawn Armor,' that's a genuine legendary-grade armor, said to be able to reflect low-level magic! Even melting just one piece of it would be worth a lifetime's work!"

"Golden Wind is nothing! Over there! See that silver-haired, icy-cold woman over there? Meryl, the Grand Commander of the Holy Lance! Look at her robes! The 'Robe of Creation'! That's a true artifact! I heard the magic array on it can communicate with the primordial elements, and a single rune is enough to flatten a small hill!"

Someone nearby sneered:

"You make it sound so real, have you even touched it?"

The man stubbornly stuck out his neck, clearly unconvinced:

"Never touched it before? Haven't you seen the illustrations in the Imperial Treasures Catalogue? The patterns are absolutely right!"

However, amidst all the discussions, the one who received the most applause and cheers was a middle-aged man in a slightly worn, darkly patterned black iron light armor, his expression as cold and stern as iron.

Viser, the leader of the Silver Blades.

Amid the commotion, Viser simply stood calmly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like that of a hawk.

His assistant, a middle-aged adjutant with an equally capable expression, led five young men through the crowd to him.

These five individuals, dressed in identical, high-quality leather armor and armed with weapons, possessed sharp eyes and a composed demeanor, clearly indicating that they were among the best of the LV10 level.

Chapter 36 Flattening the Black Language Cave!

"Commander!"

The assistant's voice was concise and military-like:

"The five elite recruits drawn from the four major guilds have been assembled. Each of them is equipped with the highest level of enchanted weapons and armor currently available, at a total cost of 520,000 gold coins."

"The potions have also been distributed, fifty bottles per person, covering all common negative status potions such as detoxification, curse removal, and dispelling."

Viser nodded slightly, but his gaze drifted to the other side of the crowd—

The five-person squad of Golden Wind was dazzlingly well-equipped.

On the Holy Lance side, five young spellcasters stood ramrod straight behind the icy, mature Meryl, their magical energy fluctuations clearly discernible.

Clearly, the major players have brought the best talents for this stage, and their equipment and supplies are top-level configurations based on the highest standards for attacking key targets.

His gaze briefly met Meryl's cool gaze in mid-air.

Viser's lips seemed to twitch slightly, revealing a rather intriguing smile with a hint of understanding, and he nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Meryl merely glanced at him indifferently, as if his smile were an insignificant stone, and turned her gaze to her teammates without hesitation.

Around them, other guild teams, though slightly weaker, were also quite formidable, and their elite squads had assembled, standing silently in a corner of the square, the air thick with the atmosphere of silent competition.

Just then, a young adventurer, panting heavily, squeezed into the center of the square and excitedly shouted at the top of his lungs:

"It's open! It's open! The Black Language Caves... have reopened!!"

This shout was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating a thousand waves!

Viser's smile vanished instantly, a glint of shrewdness flashed in his eyes, and he decisively issued a command to his assistant:

"Set off immediately! We must take it down completely before any other team!"

Without needing to communicate, the same ruthless command echoed in the minds of all the top adventurer team leaders in the square at this moment.

Flatten the Black Language Cave!

A mere E-level dungeon is nothing more than a warm-up for them; the real battle will be won or lost by speed!

Who can write their team's name on the clearance record with the fastest speed and the least loss before their hourglass runs out!

Almost simultaneously, the leader of the Golden Wind raised his hand; Meryl of the Holy Lance turned around, her red lips parting to utter a cold word:

"set off!"

The new teams from each group immediately shot off like arrows, led by their respective team leaders or core members, pushing through the crowded streets and surging towards the Dark Hills like a tidal wave!

The vast crowd followed suit, and the town was instantly swept up in the torrent of land reclamation.

The speed contest has officially begun!

Inside the Adventurers' Guild's high-level offices, huge floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the bustling scene in the plaza.

Vice President Veronica stood by the window, the pale golden morning light shining on her striking profile.

Behind her, the slightly shorter, smiling president Amata strolled forward and also stood by the window.

"President."

Veronica's voice was calm, yet carried a subtle, almost imperceptible undercurrent:

"They're off."

Amata's ever-smiling eyes gazed down at the surging crowds and the colorful team flags that shot towards the dark hills like sharp arrows, a professional consideration hidden deep within them.

He suddenly asked with great interest:

"Veronica, in your opinion, in this competition among the younger generation... who will be the first to break out of that Black Language Cave and emerge victorious?"

Veronica was silent for a moment, her gaze subconsciously searching for that cold, hard figure in the crowd—Viser.

Then, that unmistakable icy blue figure flashed by—Meryl.

"In terms of overall team strength and execution... Captain Viser's Silver Blade has the best chance."

She offered a rational assessment, but then added, a slight smile playing on her lips:

"However, in my heart... I'm more inclined to believe that Captain Meryl of the Holy Lance will win. After all, as a woman myself, I always hope to see her outmaneuver those lumps of iron men."

This sentence carries a touch of personal intimacy and a faint smile.

Amata chuckled twice, then fell silent, watching with Veronica as this grand competition, which was not merely about clearing the game, unfolded.

……

Before the golden sunset had completely sunk below the horizon, Ron was dragged up from the deck chair by the energetic Carolina.

"Quick, Ron! There's no time!"

She dragged him quickly toward the huge carved standing mirror.

A towering mound of dresses, all of them, was piled up in front of the mirror.

For the next period of time, Ron felt like a dress-up doll, with one gorgeous piece of fabric after another being put on and taken off, in an endless cycle.

The coolness of silk, the heaviness of velvet, and the hard feel of gemstone buttons assaulted him in turn.

Carolina stood to the side, rubbing her chin, her gaze sharp as if she were examining a work of art, occasionally uttering instructions like "Hmm...", "Try this one," and "The neckline is wrong."

Finally, when Ron felt he couldn't lift his arms anymore and his face was stiff from smiling, Carolina's eyes lit up, and she made the decision:

"Stop! This is the one!"

She personally straightened his collar, smoothed out the fine wrinkles on his cuffs, and then picked up a small comb to tidy his slightly disheveled hair before contentedly taking his arm.

"Let's go, it's time to go to the banquet hall."

Passing through a long corridor adorned with ancient portraits and menacing armor, and pushing open two heavy oak doors, large enough for giants to pass through easily and engraved with runes, they were instantly engulfed by a dazzling light and a wave of voices.

The enormous banquet hall was as grand as a temple of the gods.

Countless magical orbs floated high above the dome, their soft light cascading down like mercury, illuminating the intricate starry sky painting on the dome.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of mead, roasted dragon meat, and precious incense.

Well-dressed guests—or more accurately, dungeon lords and powerful monsters of all shapes and sizes—strolled across the gleaming marble floor, carrying crystal glasses filled with crimson wine, whispering and laughing.

A three-headed abyss mage is speaking to different people simultaneously using three voices.

In the corner, a banshee shrouded in shadow floated silently.

The brass band is playing a soothing and melodious ancient tune.

Ron had barely had time to scan the bizarre and surreal scene.

Carolina then pulled him forcefully, pushed through the crowd, and led him to a man with a very well-proportioned figure and a tall stature.

The other person was dressed in an elegant black suit, his gray hair was combed back meticulously, glistening with oil, which made his complexion appear exceptionally fair, and his eyes were as deep as ancient wells.

Time has etched its marks on his handsome face, but it has only added to his majesty.

"Father!"

Carolina's voice was tinged with excitement: