Divine Power

Chapter 49: The Divine (3.5K! Please read!)

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, the Winged Kobold's upper body slid down along the bloody gash, the cut as smooth as a mirror.

Just like the Blood Scale Kobold before it, the gushing blood turned into raging flames in mid-air before it even hit the ground.

Flames curled inward, devouring it, and in the blink of an eye, the ferocious monster was reduced to a pile of ashes.

The white object it clutched tightly in its left claw then fell, rolling to Roland's feet.

A small, crimson crystal flickered faintly in the ashes, emitting a weak glow.

But Roland had no time to examine it.

Although he had practiced repeatedly in the manor and no longer collapsed from exhaustion after using Momentum Slash like the first time, a severe sense of weakness still washed over him like a tide.

Yet, seeing the Executioner not far away, indiscriminately killing both humans and monsters, Roland forced himself not to show any fatigue.

He simply planted his iron sword into the ground for support, using the hilt to steady his trembling hands, and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

"Are you alright?"

"Me?"

The Executioner's azure pupils trembled slightly, remnants of surprise lingering in his gaze.

Although his encounter with the Winged Kobold had been brief, the monster's impenetrable scales, its monstrous strength far exceeding that of humans, and the terrifying speed and maneuverability granted by its single wing had made him deeply aware.

That was by no means an opponent an ordinary human could contend with.

Yet, the man before him had done it.

The Executioner's gaze slowly shifted to Roland's face.

His clear, handsome features still held a hint of youthfulness; he was clearly not old.

Although the sword strike just now had been incredibly sharp, it hadn't possessed the power of a transcendent expert.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

He coughed a few times, spitting out a mouthful of clotted blood, then used his sleeve to slowly wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth and stood up, leaning on the ground.

"You used a Combat Skill just now, didn't you?"

This was the first time Roland had heard the Executioner speak.

Compared to his mysterious appearance and ruthless methods, his voice was surprisingly clear, even carrying a woman's unique gentleness.

Wait... a woman?

Looking at the slender figure beneath the black robe, Roland tentatively asked, "Miss, may I ask your name?"

"Theresa Hernandez, you can just call me Theresa."

Theresa lifted her mask, her silver hair fluttering in the wind.

Her calm azure eyes held a hint of sharpness.

Her nose was high and straight, giving her face an heroic look, yet her lips were soft and delicate.

Her lips were slightly pursed, like a drawn sword.

Elegant, deadly, with a sharpness that could not be ignored.

But Roland was not lost in her beauty.

Instead, as she slowly approached, he unconsciously tightened his grip on the sword hilt, his gaze drifting unintentionally to her fair neck.

Although he was somewhat drained now, this woman named Theresa had clearly sustained more serious injuries in the previous battle.

If she dared to draw her sword, Roland was confident he could kill her with a single blow.

"Don't be nervous."

Seeing this, Theresa stopped about three paces away from Roland.

Her gaze seemed to wander, focusing on something behind Roland, as if something were there.

After a moment of silence, her clear voice, devoid of any fluctuation, slowly sounded.

"Roland. Oh. Your parents are both deceased. Your background is truly tragic. Other than that..."

Theresa frowned slightly, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes.

"Your other information is like a mist, making it impossible to see clearly. How strange."

Roland's pupils suddenly contracted, his brow furrowing deeply as he scrutinized Theresa's face.

He was certain he had never met this mysterious woman before.

How could she know this information about him?

Seeing Roland's expression grow more solemn, Theresa simply shook her head gently.

"Don't worry, you're different from those scum. You're trustworthy, and I won't make a move against you. As for how I know so much about you..."

Theresa retracted her rapier into its sheath, her arm trembling slightly.

"You can think of it as a great power bestowed upon me by the divine."

The divine?

Upon hearing this word, Roland's eyebrows twitched uncontrollably.

However, on the surface, he maintained his composed demeanor.

While secretly recovering his stamina, he spoke in a steady tone.

"If that's the case, Miss Theresa."

Roland narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled.

"For the sake of fairness, shouldn't you also introduce yourself?"

"My apologies."

Theresa nodded slightly, lifting the corner of her tattered black robe with her left hand and placing her right hand on her chest as she bowed in a standard gesture.

"I am Theresa Hernandez, formerly a member of the Church of Truth."

The Church of Truth?

Roland surmised it must be one of the many churches that had sprung up like weeds in recent years, as Bronson had mentioned.

While understanding dawned on him, Roland also keenly caught the keyword.

"Formerly?"

"Yes."

Theresa straightened up, her already pale face growing even more somber.

"I have left the Church of Truth and am now a free-roaming adventurer."

"I just didn't expect the first stop on my journey..."

As if recalling the group of greedy desperadoes in Pine Wood Town, a hint of disgust flashed in Theresa's eyes.

"...would be a place even more corrupt than the Church of Truth."

Before she finished speaking, and without waiting for Roland to ask further, Theresa bowed again and said softly.

"Thank you for your help just now. I will repay this kindness in the future."

"I have urgent matters to attend to, so I will take my leave now. We shall meet again, Mister Roland."

Without waiting for Roland's reply, she turned and left.

Her steps were still calm and elegant.

Although her figure staggered slightly, her speed was astonishing.

In the blink of an eye, she disappeared from Roland's sight.

"Hoo..."

Gazing in the direction Theresa had disappeared, Roland let out a long sigh, his mind still filled with lingering doubts.

"Was what she said true? A great power bestowed by the divine?"

Shaking his head, he temporarily put these unfathomable questions aside in his heart.

Roland bent down and put the small red crystal into his pouch, then reached out to pick up the white object that had rolled to his feet.

But the moment his fingertip touched its surface, his pupils contracted sharply.

Thanks to the [Heart of the Furnace] Trait, he could now clearly sense the throbbing deep within this white object.

It was a flame's unique emotional ripple.

Faint but vibrant, like the last spark dancing in the embers.

Suppressing the astonishment surging in his heart, Roland raised the white object to his eyes for a closer look.

It was stained with some dirt, clearly having been dug out of the earth not long ago.

Beneath its jade-like smoothness lay a hard essence, its hollow cylindrical structure resembling a meticulously carved bracer.

"Bone structure?"

Recalling recent events, a startling conjecture surfaced.

"Could this be a fragment from the giant remains that caused the bloody battle between the Blazing Sun Church and the Goblins?"

Thinking of this, Roland's knuckles tightened involuntarily, and the object in his palm suddenly felt scorching hot.

The sight of those monsters desperately fighting over the bones during the battle he observed in the forest last time was still vivid in his mind.

Not to mention the involvement of an unknown force like the Blazing Sun Church.

With this thought, he quickly put the bone fragment into the pouch at his waist.

Just then, an unnatural rustling sound came from the canopy above.

Roland looked towards the sound and saw the figures of several monsters appearing one after another from the shadows of the forest.

He quickly scanned the battlefield, confirming there were no troublesome mutated monsters among them, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Feeling his stamina had mostly recovered, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curve upwards.

"Clang!"

He yanked his longsword out of the ground, dislodging clumps of damp soil.

The sharp blade reflected a chilling light under the dappled sunlight.

As the sword danced, the monsters' shrill cries rose and fell, their foul blood arcing through the air.

During this process, a line of text seemed to flash across his Profession Panel.

However, Roland didn't take the time to examine it closely, only glancing at the information for becoming a Warrior.

[Requires Strength 9, Agility 6, Five Max-Level Combat-Related Skills 4/5, Kill 100/100 Hostile Creatures]

Seeing that the requirement to hunt hostile monsters for the Warrior class had been met, he flicked his wrist, shaking off the viscous blood from his blade.

Thinking that the skeleton in his waist pouch might attract troublesome prey like Winged Kobolds at any moment, he dared not linger.

Passing through the last patch of bushes, the sunlight at the forest's edge suddenly opened up.

A clear whistle echoed through the woods, and familiar hoofbeats approached from afar.

Black Wind galloped over like a bolt of black lightning, its glossy mane flowing in the wind.

"Good boy."

Roland gently stroked Black Wind's mane and, with a neat movement, swung himself onto its back.

With a soft command, man and horse sped off towards Pine Wood Town, leaving only a trail of fading hoofbeats on the forest path.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye. The journey was uneventful, with no unexpected encounters.

When the towering watchtower north of Pine Wood Town came into view, Roland's tense mind finally relaxed slightly.

He dismounted and, after the guards' routine inspection, entered the town smoothly. He then walked directly towards the Adventurer's Guild.

Pushing open the somewhat heavy wooden door, the guild interior was surprisingly quiet. The empty hall had not a single person in sight.

It wasn't until his gaze fell upon the figure in the black robe standing before the counter that Roland suddenly understood why.

He walked slowly towards the counter and found the bartender still in his usual lazy demeanor. Even facing Theresa, known as "The Executioner," his expression remained unfazed.

His peripheral vision caught sight of a piece of parchment in the bartender's hand, which was precisely the commission to investigate monster activity from before.

"So she took on this commission..."

Sensing the movement beside her, Theresa glanced over. Seeing it was Roland, she gave a slight nod.

"The total reward is two silver and fifteen copper."

The bartender casually tossed a heavy coin pouch onto the counter, making a dull thud.

"You can count it."

"No need."

Theresa concisely put the coin pouch into her embrace and then said indifferently to Roland.

"Farewell."

Before her words had even finished, she had already turned and left. Her black robe billowed, and her figure quickly disappeared outside the door.

Roland had no interest in prying into the affairs of this mysterious woman. He even felt a sense of caution due to her mention of "divine power," instinctively keeping his distance from her.

Therefore, in response to her farewell, Roland merely nodded lightly. He then unfastened the pouch at his waist and, along with the copy of the commission he held, placed them steadily on the counter.

"Hoo! So it's you, newcomer. It's incredible that you actually made it back alive!"

The bartender squinted, recognizing Roland, his tone laced with a hint of teasing.

He skillfully counted the spoils in the pouch and let out a loud whistle.

"A full sixty goblin ears! Well done! I didn't expect you to have such skills, kid."

The crisp sound of coins clinking came from beneath the counter. The bartender efficiently counted out the reward and pushed the heavy coin pouch towards Roland.

"According to the rules, eight copper coins per goblin ear, totaling four silver and eighty copper."

Roland weighed the coin pouch, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards unconsciously.

Including the spoils he had gathered from the goblin camp earlier, this adventure, which lasted less than ten days, had earned him nearly nine silver coins.

This was more than he earned in half a year as a blacksmith apprentice!

This line of work paid so fast!

And besides that...

Feeling the heavy skeleton in the pouch at his left hip, Roland's desire to return to the manor grew even more urgent.

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