Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]

Book 1: Chapter 47: Icy Chill and Quest Accepted



Lone held his swordspear tightly in his right hand and positioned it behind him as he spread his feet and put his free hand out defensively.

'This is my first time fighting another person seriously, isn't it? I wonder if it'll be different from when I train with Sophie?’ he thought.

He watched the men cautiously as they watched him back, neither side seemingly keen on making the first move.

I need to be careful about getting injured. Maybe I should purposely let him nick me a few times so I can practice blocking my Basic Regeneration? I don't exactly want everyone to freak out when I get hit with a fireball but heal the damage almost immediately, now do I?' Lone thought as he stood and waited for the taller man - Quint - to attack him.

Of course, there was a clear advantage in being the one to respond rather than the one to initiate here. Especially since Lone was already in a defensive position.

However, the seconds ticked on by with nothing happening, confusing Lone. 'Why the fuck isn't he attacking me?'

It only took a moment or two more for him to realise what was going on. 'Motherfucker! He's stalling for the fireball! I thought they were idiots, but it looks like I'm the real fool, huh?'

Lone abandoned his stance and sprinted forwards. He swiped down at the tall adventurer with the sword end of his weapon the second he was within range.

"Tsk," Quint clicked his tongue as he used his greatsword to parry Lone. "I was hoping you'd stand there for longer, but oh well. A few exchanges worth of time should be more than enough for you, no, Grindol?"

The short man who had obviously been mentally chanting several metres behind him nodded and grinned.

It was so clear now that Lone could stop to think about it. ‘Just because the goblins verbalised their chants, it doesn’t mean a person will even if he’s using crude magic too. Hell, even I did it mentally when training Crude Lightning Bolt. Lesson learned, I suppose.’

"Perfect." Quint grinned.

He then began swinging his greatsword wildly - almost barbarically - towards Lone.

Sweat covered Lone's brow as he focused his entire being on dodging or parrying the spindly man's attacks.

He had noticed two things as they exchanged blows; first, this man - Quint - was only slightly more powerful than a Hobgoblin, the other being that despite this, he was far more skilled.

It was taking Lone every ounce of his concentration to not lose an arm or get impaled while their weapons met one another.

'This guy's really trying to kill or cripple me so he can fight Sophie, isn't he? I can't even find an opportunity to let myself get nicked a little... Looks like I'll have to go with plan B,' Lone subconsciously thought as he avoided a sword-swipe aimed for his knees.

The seconds kept on rolling by as Quint kept Lone busy. Every half a second he would glance over at Sophie, presumably to make sure that she wouldn't jump in mid-battle.

Finally, the shorter man had finished his chanting. With an incredibly satisfied smirk strewn across his lips, he cast his completed spell. "Crude Fireball!"

A wave of heat filled the training area as a large orange flame expanded out from Grindol's palms and then rushed towards Lone's right flank.

Quint made sure to block off Lone's escape from the magic with some very well-placed attacks. Clearly, this wasn't the first time that they'd done this.

"Fighting us alone was your biggest mistake, foxkin. I hope you survive to watch me teach that girl that The Adventurer's Guild is no place for women who aren’t truly brilliant," the man gloated.

Lone didn't even try to flee from the magic that was only a few metres away from hitting his body.

To the spectators, it had looked like he'd given up. With the sound of a very small explosion, the Crude Fireball erupted and enveloped Lone's entire body.

"Hahaha! Serves ya right, ya filthy dog!" Grindol screamed sadistically as he licked his lips.

"What does?" Lone's calm voice tore through the flames like a hot knife through butter.

Almost everyone present wore a look of surprise or genuine admiration when they saw Lone standing there perfectly uninjured save for his charred clothes.

His exposed skin showed off his toned muscles perfectly, but he definitely didn't seem to be melting, or even burnt for that matter.

Lone cracked his neck and then nodded his head softly. "Yup. Having a really high mastery in Fire Magic Resistance is pretty helpful, huh?"

"What...?" Grindol was confused beyond words.

Quint was just as perplexed. “That makes no sense! How would you have a high enough level in Fire Magic Resistance to completely negate the effects of his magic?! Even if it’s crude, his mastery is high enough to threaten even a C-ranker which you most assuredly are not!”

"Well, when you’re stuck at the level cap just waiting for enlightenment, what do you do?” Lone asked.

“What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’, ya cheeky mutt?!” Grindol shouted.

Lone chuckled. “I mean, c’mon. If you can’t gain enlightenment quickly, you shouldn’t mope around in the guild picking on folk you don’t like for no reason. You should be improving your skills. Stats are one facet of your personal power, yeah, but skills are just, as if not even more, important.”

A few nods met him in response from the crowd. Clearly, this rhetoric was nothing new or revolutionary.

“I went out hunting goblins since they're easy enough for my rank, right? I had a few skills I wanted to level, passive skills. You just need to get lucky and find a Goblin Mage who can use fire then capture it and force it to hit you. It’s really that easy. You get it to blast you with magic so much that you can resist it to the point that it does practically nothing," Lone said in an extremely matter-of-factly manner.

Silence filled the training room for a while. Lone saw several blue screens pop up in the corner of his eyes and he dismissed them for right now along with the ones that had shown up during his melee fight.

"I also happened to catch one that specialises in lightning magic. Pretty rare, right? You know what's even rarer?" Lone asked as he pointed his hand at Quint's chest. "Lightning Bolt."

Quint fell like a wet sack of potatoes. His eyes had turned white and foam was gushing out of his mouth as the ends of his hair split and got fried.

Lone’s grin became a big smirk. "What's even rarer is that I have a talent for lightning magic."

"He's awakening his mana organs..."

"Oi, oi, ain't he like, super strong?"

"'E's only an H-rank'r, I can feel it, but yeah, the fuck'r's stupidly talented if 'e's castin' a tier two spell like that already."

“Wonder if he’ll get in trouble for usin’ magic…”

“Probably not. He’s an adventurer now, right? Perfectly legal, that.”

Grindol's face contorted with rage. "This is impossible! A fuckin' slave like ye havin' stronger magic than me when ye'r only a fuckin' H-rank'r?! Fuckin'H?! I'm a fuckin' D-ranker! This is impossible!"

He drew his daggers and lunged for Lone's throat. He was quick. Extremely quick. Lone panicked a bit in response to that.

He hadn't predicted Grindol getting so offended. If anything, he was expecting him to pretend to surrender then attack him stealthily or something, not to just launch a frontal attack like this.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang out in the air. Sophie now stood in front of Lone with her blade pointed at Grindol's neck.

The very next second, a loud clanging noise filled everyone's ears. Looking at its source, Lone saw Grindol's daggers clattering about five metres away from himself.

'She moved from over there and disarmed him that quickly? Fucking hell... Has she been taking it easy on me during our training? I guess that kinda makes sense since she did fight in a one-man war against pretty much most of Europe for two centuries...'

Lone thought in shock and realisation.

"Surrender or die." Sophie's tone was so incredibly cold that the spectators could have sworn that they felt a chill take hold over their souls.

Grindol's eyes darted back and forth between the sword pressed against his Adam's apple and his daggers. "Nev-"

"If you do not surrender, I will kill you and your sexist friend. You have three seconds. One. Two. Thr-"

"I surrender!" His resolve crumbled in the wake of Sophie's seriousness.

She smiled softly underneath her helmet and kicked him to the ground hard enough to incapacitate him. After that, she waltzed over to his daggers and picked them up.

She tucked them into the belt used to sheath her swords before she grabbled Quint's greatsword. "These are ours now. Consider them compensation for trying to kill Lone dishonourably."

Grindol just squealed in pain next to his unconscious partner as he muttered. “’Ow… She’s blind… What’s the world comin’ to…”

Sophie looked back at Lone and said, "Shall we go accept a quest now? I have a very sudden and very strong lust for blood."

Lone laughed faintly. "Sure, I suppose we can accept one. We're buying new clothes before we actually complete it though."

"Your shirt suggests that you were hit with fire magic, but your body and confident stride over here suggests that you won in spite of that?" The receptionist from earlier seemed very fascinated by Lone and Sophie who had both quickly returned to his desk.

Lone shrugged. "I was hit, and we did win, yes. Anyway, we wanna take on a quest to kill monsters. Can we?"

"Certainly. Quests are all labelled over there on the quest boards. There's a different board for each different tier of quests. To simplify it, the quest giver can choose what rank of adventurer he or she wishes to complete their request. Some use the plate system, but most ask for specific personal ranks. Some don't ask for anything, but those tend to be high-risk-high-reward quests," he explained.

Lone stroked his chin. "Sounds simple enough. Thanks."

"You are very welcome, sir, madam," the receptionist replied cheerfully.

"By the way, do you know where I could find a good tailor? I need new clothes, as you can see," Lone said as he gestured to his ruined attire. "I've got a map of the city, so just point out where I can find one, please," he asked as he took out the map that Phil has given to him.

"Certainly." The guild employee raised an eyebrow upon seeing the circled areas on the map, but he didn’t question them.

"May I?" he asked to which Lone nodded. "Thank you."

With that, he took out an inkwell and a quill from underneath his desk and circled three locations.

"This store here is very affordable and the materials used are rather durable, though lacklustre in the style department. And this store is more geared towards adventurers and warriors. They sell gambeson and leather armour as well as heavy-duty or flexible clothing. And lastly, this store here is generally used by the nobles or those of a higher class. It also sells robes and magic enhancing staves, if that interests you," he explained slowly as he pointed to each of the three locations gracefully.

Lone took the map back and looked over it. "Thanks, I appreciate your help."

"Not at all. As a small side note, should you wish to accept a quest today, one issued by the crown for all plates and ranks recently came in. Unlike most unspecified quests, this one isn't very high-risk. The task is to help quell a rapidly forming Blue Orc tribe," the receptionist suggested kindly.

"Oh, really? How strong are Blue Orcs in relation to Hobgoblins, and do they have any exploitable weaknesses?" Lone asked.

The employee wore a surprised look upon hearing of Lone’s apparent interest. "Of course, sir. A single Blue Orc could defeat a Hobgoblin nine-out-of-ten times, but against two or three of them, a Blue Orc may be overwhelmed and die.”

“Huh, strong fuckers then,” Lone commented.

The man nodded. “Indeed. As for a weakness, they have very poor eyesight, but they compensate with their excellent innate ability to detect things via scent. This can also be used as a weakness if exploited correctly."

"Hmm." Lone looked at Sophie. "What do you think? Wanna do it? It sounds like the perfect enemy for me to gain enlightenment, doesn't it?"

The girl shrugged, making her armour rustle about. "We are fine with whatever so long as we can end a life or 20."

"Great. We'll accept that quest then," Lone said as he ignored Sophie's morbid comment and returned his attention to the staff member.

"Of course. The reward is two silver coins for every slain Blue Orc. We require a part of their bodies as proof. Adventurers generally cut off a tusk or an ear, but anything is fine. Our specialists are trained to discern monster bodies and their parts, after all. There is no penalty for failure, so if you feel out of your depth, please, do not push yourselves," the receptionist said very seriously.

"Sure," Lone casually replied.

The guild employee smiled then added their names to a list which contained the name of the quest's participants.

"Lovely. The Blue Orcs have been seen gathering their forces in the old, abandoned bandit fort to the southwest as well as in the Bengon Forest which is south by southwest. I'd personally suggest the forest for beginners as the orcs are far more spread out there, making it easier to pick them off one at a time," he said.

Lone nodded. "Noted. Seeya later."

With that said, he and Sophie left the guild and made for a tailor shop. As they walked through Ranton's streets, Lone took the time to inspect all of his new system notifications.


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