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

Viser frowned, his cold, sharp gaze fixed on Veronica:

"What is this? Giving alms to a beggar?"

"No! It's help between friends."

Veronica quickly explained.

"Help from a friend?"

Viser's lips curled into a mocking smile. He raised his hand and slapped Veronica's wrist away without any politeness. The leather bag fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"To me, it sounds no different from charity. Just tell me where they are."

……

The wilderness outside Emerald Town.

The withered grass rustled in the wind, and the wind howled mournfully.

Mills lay on his back, leaning against a weathered boulder, like a soulless shell.

His thick stubble grew haphazardly, and his greasy hair was disheveled.

His once robust physique had collapsed, now wrapped in tattered clothes that reeked of decay.

He clutched a huge, cheap wine barrel tightly in his hand, staring blankly at the leaden sky, looking even more desperate than the homeless on the street.

Gudong!Gudong!

He used alcohol to wash away the reality that was even harder to swallow.

Just as he was indulging in the numbing sensation of the spicy liquor, a hand with distinct knuckles suddenly reached out and snatched his barrel.

Mills's angry curse was about to come out, but it froze in his throat the moment he saw who had taken the wine.

A flicker of disbelief and astonishment crossed his cloudy eyes.

Viser!

With a blank expression, he slammed the heavy barrel onto the gravel ground beside him, making a loud crash as the murky liquid spilled out.

He looked down at Mills lying on the ground, his tightly furrowed brows revealing suppressed disappointment and... a sliver of embers still burning.

"Mills."

Viser's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a hammer shattering the air:

"Have you had enough lying down? Get up. Team up with me and let's start over."

"restart?"

Mills let out a labored burp reeking of cheap alcohol, a bitter smile twitching at the corners of his mouth that looked more like a grimace.

"LV1? Back to being a newbie to be trampled on again? Ha... Don't be naive, Viser. We can never climb back to that summit, never!"

The sharp light in Viser's eyes suddenly turned mocking and fierce:

"Absolutely right! Then just lie here like a lump of mud, waiting for wild dogs to gnaw on your bones, waiting for some unknown corner to become your final destination!"

He pressed forward, his words piercing to the heart:

"Wait until those who once looked up to you, fawned over you, and were trampled underfoot, mention your name, Mills, and laugh arrogantly: 'Look, what a coward! A complete and utter piece of trash!' Is that the ending you want?"

"shut up!!"

Mills was completely enraged! He sprang to his feet, his bloodshot eyes wide open as if spitting fire, and his clenched fist whistled as he swung it at Viser.

How's my fist?

Instead of flinching, Viser suddenly brought his face close to the man's fist and demanded sharply:

"With this punch, you can smash my face, you can shatter my skull! But can you shatter all the gossip in the world? Can you stop the rumors that will nail you to the pillar of shame from spreading throughout the entire adventurer's continent?"

His piercing gaze pierced through Mills's anger:

"Mills, you will be forever nailed to the pillar of shame, becoming an eternal laughingstock among adventurers across the continent!"

The boiling anger was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over it.

Mills' body trembled violently, and his clenched fists seemed to lose all strength, falling limply to his sides.

Despair, anger, resentment... ultimately turned into a deep sense of bewilderment.

"But...we..."

His voice was hoarse.

"We have nothing now."

"Having nothing?"

The glimmer of light that had been suppressed in Viser's eyes finally ignited, and he smiled, a smile that carried the ruthlessness of a wild wolf and a long-lost sense of heroism.

"Isn't this exactly how we started?! Before standing on the mountaintop, didn't we only hold a heart full of passion and covered in dust in our hands?"

He took out two pieces of tattered equipment that he had prepared beforehand from behind his back and threw them over.

A small wooden round shield for dealing with children.

A poor-quality one-handed sword with a chipped and rusty blade.

Two things fell to Mills' feet, covered in dust.

Mills stared intently at them, his cloudy eyes darting around violently.

The tattered hilt seemed to bear the marks of when it once held the divine weapon.

Finally, a low growl, seemingly from the depths of his soul, burst from his throat. He bent down, grabbed the shield and sword with his large hand, and gripped them tightly until his knuckles turned white.

……

At the end of a narrow corridor in a budget hotel.

Charles—a well-to-do businessman—pushed open the door and addressed the curled-up figure on the bed inside:

"Belin, pack your things, we're leaving Emerald Town soon."

The person on the bed remained motionless and offered no response.

Charles sighed, shook his head, and prepared to close the door.

But at that moment, the door was firmly supported by a hand.

Charles looked up and saw the travel-worn Viser, and behind him Mills, who looked as if he had been reborn, his eyes filled with a renewed wildness.

“Mr. Charles”

Viser's voice was calm yet undeniable:

"We're looking for Miss Belin."

Charles turned slightly to avoid being seen from inside the door, and said in a complicated voice:

"She's inside... but..."

Viser nodded and walked straight into the dimly lit room with Mills.

The knocking sounded again, followed by a slight rustling sound from inside.

The door opened a crack, revealing Belin's haggard, almost unrecognizable face.

The former icy beauty and mature charm have vanished, leaving only deep weariness and dejection.

The moment she saw the two people in the doorway, her dim eyes suddenly narrowed:

“Viser? Mills…you…”

"We reorganized the team."

Viser looked directly into her dull eyes and got straight to the point:

“Starting from scratch, taking the first step again. Belin, I need you.”

A flicker of pain crossed Belin's face. She instinctively turned her head away, her voice weak but firm:

"No need... I... I won't be an adventurer anymore... Father will arrange everything..."

Her meaning was very clear:

Go home, inherit the family business, follow the routine, live a stable and numb life...

Viser was not surprised by this answer. He stepped forward and, word by word, clearly described the two futures she had chosen:

"Is it about wearing a gorgeous long dress, guarding warehouses full of lifeless gold coins, marrying a merchant you may have no feelings for, exchanging pleasantries in hypocritical aristocratic salons, and then living a mediocre life amidst the envy of others and the suffocation of your own heart?"

He paused, then his voice suddenly became incredibly sharp, like a vow:

"Or—come with me, pick up the staff! Trust me, three years! Just three years! I'll lead you back to the mountaintop, reclaim everything we've lost, and reclaim the glory that belongs to 'Frost Mage' Belin!"

With a flick of his wrist, he handed a very ordinary, even somewhat rough, wooden staff to Belin.

"I believe!"

Viser's tone was resolute:

"I believe that the proud, powerful, and magically advanced Belin that I know knows what to choose!"

Chapter 80 The Remnants of Hell

That ordinary wooden staff hovered quietly in front of Belin.

It is so ordinary, yet it seems to contain infinite possibilities.

Belin stared at it blankly, her body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

three years?

The enormous fall from the peak to the bottom made her instinctively question things.

It took them fifteen years to go from newcomer to team leader!

But... but what a period of life it was, full of passion and challenges!

Compared to the stagnant life I'm about to face...

"Three years...you...what makes you so sure?"