"I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!"

Auren watched as Jerome's unconscious body was carried off toward the infirmary room.

Around him, a chorus of groans and curses filled the guild hall. The adventurers who had bet on Jerome as the "obvious winner" were now dealing with the bitter taste of lost coins.

"Shit!"

"Crappy Jerome, can't even stomach one kick?"

"He used Rage and still lost that pathetically? What a joke bastard!"

"It had to be a lucky hit. No way a herbalist's kick can carry that much force. Could it be the effect of his drugs?"

Their voices echoed through the hall like a pack of sore gamblers in denial. But one thing is certain: they're all angry at Auren.

Auren scratched his neck awkwardly, pretending not to hear the insults.

Yeah, sure. Blame luck all you want.

Meanwhile, Alyssa and her crew were watching from the stands, their eyes locked on him with interest growing in them.

"Are you really talking about that new adventurer, Alyssa?" Blas asked, his tone dripping with disbelief. He crossed his arms, visibly annoyed.

"He looks average. Even I could knock out Jerome without a single sweat."

Alyssa smirked faintly.

"If he truly is what I think he is, then let's see if he can finish the promotion test."

Auren was about to step down from the ring when the referee approached him. "Congratulations on defeating Jerome."

"Thank you," Auren replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't easy, but I guess I got lucky, huh?"

"Luck or not, you've still got two more matches to go," the referee said, flipping through his clipboard. "And if you win all three, there's one last test waiting for you."

Auren tilted his head. "Oh, so it's not yet over? And that would be?"

"The hardest one," the man said solemnly. "The Adventurer Written Exam."

A chorus of groans instantly followed.

"F*ck that written exam!" barked a scar-covered man from the crowd. "Can't we just use our swords and skip the boring stuff?"

"What, you think you can hack your way through dungeons without a brain?" replied another adventurer with round glasses, pushing them up smugly.

"That exam keeps idiots like you from getting your teams killed."

The arguments reminded Auren of college days back on Earth—cramming all night, sweating over exams that seemed to decide the meaning of life.

He chuckled lightly and asked, "Mind if I ask what kind of questions are in that exam?"

"Everything from survival tactics to herb and monster identification," the referee explained. "Even strategy planning. My advice? Talk to veterans. They usually have tips that help."

"Got it. Thanks," Auren said with a grateful nod.

The referee smiled and gestured toward the ring. "So, are you ready for your next fight? Or do you want to rest for fifteen minutes?"

Auren glanced at the crowd, catching their curious gazes. The air buzzed with speculation and disbelief.

He smirked.

This is a good chance to show a little more of what I can do.

"I think I'm ready," he said confidently.

"Good. Your next opponent will be another D-Class. and he is..."

The referee raised his hand, and from the waiting area emerged a new challenger—a slender man draped in yellow magician's robes. His pale green eyes glinted beneath his hood as he stepped forward, a curved magical staff rest in his hand.

'Epokh,' Auren thought after a quick glance at his Divine Frame.

Level 32 Wind Mage, title of Wind Caller. Hmm. That reminds me of Mathes from the Goldhair tribe… wonder how they're doing now.

Noticing Auren's eyes away from him, his opponent frowned.

"I don't think this is the best time to space out, herbalist," Epokh said sharply, his voice calm but cold. He stood at the opposite end of the arena, posture perfectly straight. His every movement screamed control.

'A mage this time, huh?' Auren rolled his shoulders, settling into a fighting stance.

'Alright, let's see what kind of storm he can brew.'

"Begin!" the referee shouted and the mage quickly chanted:

[WIND STRIKE]

A compressed blast of air shot from Epokh's staff, slicing the air like a bullet.

SHH-BOOOM!

Auren leapt aside just in time. The projectile exploded against the arena's barrier with a loud boom, shaking the protective field around the audience.

[WIND WALL][WIND STRIKE]

Epokh layered his spells smoothly, creating barriers to limit Auren's escape routes. But Auren was already moving. He sprinted toward a wall and jumped, flipping clean over it before it fully solidified.

"Fast!" Epokh muttered, shocked.

His eyes narrowed. 'Such speed… Is he even really a herbalist?'

Outside the ring, Alyssa leaned forward.

"That movement… that's not just agility training. I can tell he's been in real battles."

Blas, meanwhile, just scoffed. "Still doesn't prove anything. Let's see how long he lasts. If it's me he's facing, my arrow could easily pin him down in seconds."

Inside the ring, wind missiles detonated one after another as Auren weaved between them with almost lazy precision.

'Compared to elven battle strength, this is child's play,' Auren thought, ducking under another gust of slicing wind. He slid across the ground and swung his sword low at Epokh's legs.

"Not today!" Epokh snapped, jumping away from his reach while spinning his staff.

[WIND SHIELD]

A vortex of air enveloped him in a translucent sphere. The sword struck the barrier but bounced off harmlessly.

Auren smirked. 'Wind Shield's good for frontal defense—but useless against my special weapons.'

He pulled a small bottle from his storage ring and shot it under his foot before he landed. The magician on the other hand was too busy defending and failed to notice Auren's slight throw.

POOF!

"WHat the?" The mag lost his focus the moment his body felt something unusual.

A purple mist erupted and spread rapidly around him and covering the entire arena in seconds!

"What the hell is that!?" someone in the audience shouted.

"A smoke bomb?"

Blas snorted loudly. "What an idiot. He's fighting a Wind Mage! A single gust will blow that away. If he wants to impress us, he should at least act smarter."

"Why don't you take another look?" Alyssa said quietly, eyes narrowing.

The mist dissipated as quickly as it appeared, cleared by Epokh's next spell—only for everyone to see him lying flat on the ground, twitching violently, foam dripping from his lips.

The entire guild hall went silent.

Auren, smiling like a shopkeeper who'd just made a good sale, approached the referee. "I believe that's a win?"

"W-what did you do to him?" the referee stammered, horrified. "Is he poisoned!?"

"Relax," Auren said casually. "It's just a paralyzing bomb. He'll recover in about twelve hours—six, if he's got good earth resistance."

"Any side effects?"

He paused thoughtfully. "Although… I do recall some. A day of vomiting, three days of diarrhea, and… well, let's just say his junior might not stand at attention for about a week."

The silence that followed was almost sacred.

One of the male adventurers swallowed hard. "Did he just say… what I think he said?"

"Yeah," another whispered, crossing his legs unconsciously. "That potion can, uh, disable your sword for a week."

Every man in the audience collectively took a step back.

'This guy's a menace,' someone thought. 'A smiling herbalist with death in his pockets.' Who knows he's that dangerous?!

Unbothered by the growing fear, Auren grinned at the referee. "So, two down. Shall we go for the third contender?"

The referee hesitated, scanning the crowd. The same adventurers who had mocked Auren earlier were now avoiding eye contact, their faces pale.

One knight in full armor—the designated third tester—stood, then immediately shook his head and backed away. "I-I'm good. Pass. I am actually still injured from my last quest so I will take those of my senior do it in my stead..."

It was his best excuse while looking away from the referee.

The referee tried asking others, but each one either pretended to be asleep or suddenly found their drink fascinating. Even Blas, who had been itching to "teach the newbie a lesson," took a half-step back.

'Crazy bastard,' Blas thought grimly. 'He smiles like he's offering tea but probably carries death in every bottle.'

"Is there anyone willing to test our new adventurer?" the referee called out. His voice echoed awkwardly through the silence.

It was a rare sight indeed—a level 25 herbalist who had managed to terrify a room full of battle-hardened adventurers.

Then, from the crowd, a single voice broke the tension.

"I'll test him."

The hall went utterly still. Every head turned toward the speaker.

Auren blinked. "Huh?"

Alyssa stood up, her silver armor gleaming under the torchlight. Her presence commanded instant attention. She rested one hand on her sword, eyes sharp and calm.

"Is it alright?" she repeated.

The room erupted into chaos.

"The Armored Rose!? She's serious!?"

"She's one of the top-ranked adventurers here!"

"Is she trying to kill the guy or marry him!?"

Auren felt his smile twitch.

Oh great, now I'm either dead or doomed to embarrassment.

The referee exhaled, shoulders slumping in relief—and fear.

"Very well… Match three: Alyssa, the Armored Rose, versus Herbon the Herbalist."

Auren looked up at Alyssa as she approached the ring, her steps measured and sure.

The crowd's roar faded into a muffled hum in his ears. Her presence felt different—steady, powerful, confident.

'She's not like the others,' Auren thought, gripping his sword tighter.

'This one… might actually push me.'