New Hired Muscle!

Traveling eastward from the desolate desert, across the boundless Gobi Desert, one enters a fortress surrounded by mountains.

A young man clad in tattered armor walked alone, having just finished a battle, slaying a roaming Ogre. He was wiping the blood from his sword before sheathing it and heading towards the fortress surrounded by mountains. The fortress was perched halfway up a mountain; its construction at such a height and in such an environment must have been incredibly time-consuming and labor-intensive. It seemed to possess a very long history; even a single glance conveyed the fortress's weathered and ancient atmosphere.

There are also some dark marks on the wall, which are blood that seeped into the rock and eventually made it look like this.

The young man took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the fortress. No one seemed surprised by his arrival, and no one stopped him from entering. He walked to the center of the fortress's main hall. The hall had six Marble pillars and almost no other decorations; the walls were adorned with some bas-reliefs, making it appear quite empty. At the front table sat a rather burly man with a square face, a commanding presence, clean-cut short hair, thick eyebrows, and a sharp gaze.

The man was dressed in heavy armor, with a Two-Handed Greatsword at his knees. When he heard the footsteps of others entering, he slightly raised his head and put down his quill. In front of him were stacks of scrolls, almost a meter thick in total, many of which had been read and placed aside. It seemed he had been sitting there for a long time. Beside him was his lunch, just very simple Bread and soup.

"You've come."

The burly man stood up, probably over two meters tall, much taller than the young man before him. He put down his quill pen and the scroll in his hand, his sharp and heroic gaze fixed on the young man. Time hadn't left many marks on his face, but his chiseled, resolute features still betrayed the passage of years he had endured. This was a professional of Legendary or higher; immense power had altered his bloodline, granting him a lifespan far exceeding that of ordinary people.

The young man knelt on one knee, humbly lowered his head, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, and said in a deep voice, "Your Inquisitor!..."

The burly man didn't reply; he simply stared silently at the young man before him.

After a moment, he slowly walked down to the former Paladin and drew his sword with a clang. He then placed the blade on the paladin's shoulder and said in a deep voice, "Since you are qualified to come here, it proves that you have passed all the tests before! I don't know what you have experienced, encountered, seen, or understood along the way. None of that matters to me. What matters is that from today onwards, you must learn to see the world with a different perspective!"

"Now."

"I'm going to teach you your first lesson!"

The burly man picked up a heavy Codex and handed it to the young man before him, declaring in a firm and resounding voice, "Justice! It's either through force or through the law!!!..."

"From today onward, you will follow me to learn the Codex of the entire continent!... Once you have learned all the laws, I will tell you how Inquisitor should use force to seek Justice!... Young man! You must remember one thing: force is always the last resort!... Before using force, you must learn to use your wisdom. The law is also our most effective weapon, even if in the end we need to use force to uphold it!..."

The Inquisitor.

A former Paladin almost forgotten by history, many have completely forgotten this legendary Paladin. However, if Soren were present, he would recognize that the burly man before him was a being even more powerful and unique than the Silver Hand. Few remember his past, but Soren knows he is one of the few Legendary Professional in the world capable of confronting a powerful Deity head-on, and the only Paladin against the [Lord of Radiance]!

City of Wealth.

In a dark Basement, a woman wearing Ghost Mask frowned and coldly shouted at the others below, "What? The Lucky Coin were stolen?! You bunch of incompetent good-for-nothings! Go and get them back for me!"

The angry voice, like a chilling wind, sent shivers down the spines of everyone below. One of the men, mustering his courage, whispered, "Please calm down, Your Excellency!... According to the Prophecy, all twelve Lucky Coin must be collected to unlock the secret of that place!... We still have time; we can definitely retrieve the Lucky Coin in time!..."

The woman wearing the Ghost Mask gave him a cold look and slowly said, "I'll give you six months. If you still can't find the Lucky Coin after six months, then you can talk to His Avatar in person."

Lucky Coin.

A legendary special item that is said to bring good luck.

There are twelve of these Lucky Coin in total. The obverse is engraved with the oldest Goddess of Luck, not the modern Goddess of Fortune, while the reverse is engraved with twelve constellations, each representing a different meaning. There are few records about these Lucky Coin; it is only known that they can bring good luck. However, there is also a special legend that after collecting all twelve Lucky Coin, one can find the thirteenth Gold Coin, which represents misfortune and bad luck.

This is a very ancient Artifact!

It can even be used to curse the Gods; it was a Artifact created by the Goddess of Luck to protect herself.

Overseas Islands.

Soren's face showed little joy at the appearance of the Drow Warrior.

Because the arrival of the other party was much later than he had expected. According to his original plan, the Drow should have arrived before he set off for the Overseas Islands, not after he had already established a camp Overseas Islands. A group of Drow Warrior appeared in the distance. Although their equipment was somewhat worn, their aura was very strong. Although there were only thirty-one Drow, their orderly steps and cold eyes were more awe-inspiring than hundreds of pirates.

These Drow Warrior easily evoke images of the Elf army from the Lord of the Rings. Among Warrior of all races, Elf possess the best Discipline, and the drow army is known for its Cruelty Elf. The training of an Elf Warrior is exceptionally long, far exceeding that of Warrior of other races, making the Elf army one of the best in every aspect. Drow Warrior, however, undergo even more rigorous training, receiving far superior instruction compared to their counterparts.

They are all professionals at level three or above!

Soren merely glanced at the Drow Warrior before him and deduced their abilities: almost all of them possessed the combat strength of a low-ranking pirate leader. This level of combat strength would qualify them as patrol captains in surface cities, but in the Underdark, they could only serve as elite Patrol Guard, not even qualifying to apply to become Basilisk riders. It seemed their race had weakened considerably; Soren hadn't even spotted many fourth-tier Drow Warrior among them.

It's important to know that the strict standard for Drow Warrior in the Underdark is class level 15.

"Your Mightiness."

The leading Drow Warrior seemed intent on displaying his strength. He stopped and turned around, and the Drow Warrior behind him simultaneously turned in perfect unison, without any unusual movement, as if they were all one unified entity. This was incredibly impressive and intimidating to the pirates, but for Soren, it was nothing new. In his previous life, military Discipline were child's play. Perhaps their fighting prowess couldn't match these Drow Warrior, but he had seen far more awe-inspiring formations.

Soren nodded calmly and said slowly, "The rest of you stay outside. You come in with me."

"I happen to have something I need to talk to you about!"

These Drow Warrior arrived at just the right time; Soren needed just the right group of fighters.

(P. S.: I wrote a little slowly today, so I'll probably only be able to finish two chapters.) (To be continued~^~)