The adventurer at the bottom is fantasizing again.

Lorraine carried the tray downstairs, still savoring the experience of touching the magic network. The feeling of discovering something new made him quite excited.

The little man was sitting at the bar, enjoying a delicious breakfast and chatting with Gustave. Seeing him come downstairs, he turned and asked, "Why are you up so early today?"

"You can't blame them for that. I can hear your snoring from downstairs. It's a huge loss for me to charge you this little bit of rent," Gustav joked.

"Haha..." The short man chuckled dryly, took a sip of ale, and pretended nothing had happened.

Lorraine stepped forward and returned the tray to the old bartender, glancing at the ale in Piper's hand, and said, "Drinking so early in the morning."

The little man swirled the wine in his glass, the thick bubbles bursting and splashing everywhere. He shook his head and said:

"A barbarian's veins don't flow with blood, they flow with last year's malt and today's liquor. Without this stuff, Piper can't even lift a hammer!"

"As a barbarian elder once said: the first thing the sun does when it rises is to replenish the alcohol that didn't evaporate last night—it's tradition! It's in our blood!"

After saying that, he drank the entire glass of ale in one gulp, and then let out a satisfied burp.

Lorraine's lips twitched, wondering what this little dwarf was up to now.

He sighed helplessly and said, "I'm going to finish my 'official' soldier rank assessment later, and then see if there's anything else I can do. What about you?"

"Pipe didn't have much to do, so of course he went along!"

"OK."

The Adventurers' Guild in Frostvale was not far from the Hearthfire Tavern. After Lorraine went upstairs to get his longsword, the two of them arrived at the guild's entrance after only a few steps.

This is a gray-white stone brick building, much taller than the surrounding shops, with a guild emblem hanging on it: a hand holding a sword, the tip pointing upwards, surrounded by five stars.

Most of the paint on the emblem has worn off, but the outline is still there, and it can be recognized from a distance.

Lorraine stood at the entrance and glanced at the guild's outer wall. He had passed by this place countless times when he went to the tavern to find work, but he had never gone inside.

"Let's go." He pushed open the door.

The interior space is very large, with a height equivalent to three floors.

The roof is an arched wooden beam structure, with several huge iron chandeliers hanging from the beams, illuminating the entire hall.

As soon as they walked in, they could see a long row of counters directly opposite the main entrance.

Behind the counter is a wall-to-wall bulletin board covered with task sheets.

Yellow and white, new and old, some were pinned to the wall with thumbtacks, while others were just randomly stuffed into the gaps between sheets.

Many people dressed as adventurers were busy at work, and the air was filled with the mixed smells of leather, sweat, and weapon grease.

A one-eyed giant walked past him, glanced at the two of them, and then went straight to the bulletin board to look for a task.

In the corner of the resting area sat a female archer in leather armor, munching on dry rations, seemingly waiting for her companions.

Two red-haired dwarves stood in front of the counter, arguing and cursing with the guild's receptionist about their pay.

He even saw an orc, wearing a tattered chainmail, standing in the hall with his arms crossed, doing something he couldn't tell.

To be honest, compared to Hef's shabby tavern, this was more like the adventurers' guild he had imagined.

Lorraine walked straight to an empty counter, behind which stood a young woman with a round face.

She was wearing a guild uniform with a brass name tag pinned to her collar that read "Vanessa".

"Register or accept a task?" Vanessa gave a forced, business-like smile.

"We both need to register, and can we get our job ranks assessed here?" Lorraine asked.

Vanessa looked surprised, then looked at the young man seriously, her smile becoming much more genuine. "Of course! What profession would you like assessed?" she said.

"A 'formal' soldier."

"Okay! Does your companion need it?" she asked expectantly.

Two official professional rankings – that's like a windfall! That new dress I had my eye on the other day is finally mine...

"He doesn't need it for now, thank you," Lorraine said.

"Okay..." Vanessa looked slightly disappointed. She lowered her head, wrote a few strokes in the register, and then pulled out two forms from under the counter and pushed them over.

"Please fill out the form first. Also, the guild fee is one silver coin per year, and the grading fee is ten silver coins," she said.

It's not exactly expensive, but given the size of the Adventurers' Guild, the total membership fees would probably be an astronomical figure.

Lorraine glanced down at the information on the form: name, age, place of origin, occupation, preferred weapon...

It was all basic information. He took out twelve silver coins from his waist and handed them over, then leaned over the counter to fill them out.

"Wait a minute! Sir, did you fill this out incorrectly?"

Vanessa stared blankly at the form Piper had handed in, pointing to the section on profession and preferred weapons.

"That's right! Piper is a barbarian!" the short man replied.

"Uh, okay...no problem, I'll register you here, please wait a moment."

She didn't show any further surprise, which suggests that the guild's training for reception staff is quite rigorous.

After registering, the short man received a colorless metal badge, signifying that he was an adventurer without a class. Most of the adventurers who had been coming and going in the hall were of the same level.

Lorraine, on the other hand, receives her badge based on the results of the ranking assessment.

After filling out the form, he walked around the counter and followed Vanessa's directions through the hall until he reached a wooden door leading to the inner courtyard.

The inner courtyard was a small, square open space covered with gravel and fine sand.

Against the wall were several training dummies made of straw, their bodies strapped with old leather armor that had been used for who knows how many years, covered with knife marks and arrow holes.

A middle-aged man with a square face was leaning against a weapons rack, holding a cup of tea in his hand, squinting in the sun.

"Mr. Glenn?" Lorraine walked over.

The middle-aged man opened his eyes, glanced at him, then looked at the form in his hand and asked, "Soldier rank assessment?"

"Yes."

"Just put the form down anywhere, and take out the weapons to take a look."

Lorraine placed the form on the table beside him and drew his longsword, Rusty Throat, from his waist.

The sharp blade gleamed with a dazzling cold light in the sunlight, looking nothing like the junk on the weapon rack.

Glenn flicked the blade with his finger, and the longsword emitted a clear hum. He nodded and praised it:

"What a fine sword!"

"Choose the combat technique you are most proficient in to attack the dummy."

He put down his teacup, walked over to the mannequin, and said, "I don't need fancy tricks; I only care about speed and fluidity."