"Finally, the skies have cleared!"
Gauss opened the window. Looking out at the bright sunshine, he couldn't help smiling.
A few days ago, after they had turned in a commission and the squad members had each received their share of the reward, everyone had agreed to take on another commission after a couple of days.
Unfortunately, it had rained heavily for several days straight.
So they'd had to put their plans on hold.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the rain was suspicious, but he had no idea why.
Could the rainy season have started already? Gauss wondered as he walked through the streets for the first time in a while.
He'd been cooped up at the inn for days. Apart from practicing with his rapier in his room, all he could do was head down to the common room on the first floor and chat with Sophia to pass the time.
If he stayed in much longer, he felt like his body would start to rust.
Now that the weather had finally cleared up, he naturally wanted to get out and stretch his legs.
He wasn't the only one who felt that way.
The town's streets were teeming with pedestrians and wagon trains.
"Hey, you lot! Move it! Otherwise, get out of the way of your betters!"
A hulking half-orc, tall and bare-chested, roared at the pedestrians walking abreast in front of him.
Gauss heard the voice behind him and turned to look.
He wasn't involved; he was just curious about what was happening.
Just as the rumors said, most half-orcs were rather hot-tempered and irritable.
This one was no exception. His eyes bulged like copper bells. Apparently annoyed that the people ahead of him were walking too slowly and blocking the way, he'd barked at them.
If an ordinary civilian had been yelled at like that and seen his unusually massive build, they might well have decided to let it go.
But the man in front of him didn't seem like someone who'd back down easily.
At the half-orc's road-rage-like bellow, he stopped in his tracks.
He turned to face the half-orc, a distinctly provocative smile on his face.
The difference in their builds was enormous. The human man was probably only about 1.7 meters tall, while the half-orc stood nearly two meters tall, like a thick, solid wall.
Yet there wasn't the slightest hint of fear on the man's face.
"You bastard!"
Already short-tempered, the half-orc was provoked, and his face instantly flushed red. There was no way he could keep his temper in check.
Crash!
A massive fist, wrapped in a powerful gust of wind, swung straight at the man's face.
The nearby pedestrians were so startled that they hurriedly scattered, putting plenty of distance between themselves and the two men.
Thud!
To everyone's surprise, the half-orc's powerful punch was casually caught in the man's seemingly ordinary palm.
His fist couldn't push past that hand at all.
The half-orc's eye twitched. His flushed, ferocious face suddenly forced itself into a kindly smile.
"Sorry about that, bu—"
He'd just started to apologize, but before he could finish, a lightning-fast knee strike drove into his stomach.
"Ugh!!"
The man lowered his leg, and the half-orc dropped to his knees, retching repeatedly.
From a distance, Gauss watched the scene, his expression turning serious.
"A professional."
The terrifying strength that had just allowed the man to overcome such a huge difference in size could only belong to a professional.
He was really strong.
Gauss replayed that kick in his mind. It had been so fast he hadn't even seen it clearly.
Even though he hadn't entered Mind Acceleration, it was still frightening enough.
The man's muscles had moved too quickly for the naked eye to follow.
No wonder people said professionals were human weapons.
There really was an immense, almost insurmountable gulf between them and ordinary people.
Even a half-orc, with inherited bloodline strength, couldn't withstand one casual kick from him.
An ordinary person would fare even worse.
Could I react at close range? The thought popped into Gauss's mind.
No.
He quickly arrived at his answer.
Even with Mind Acceleration, he could only perceive and track the other person's attack. His body couldn't react in time.
If he had enough distance, he might be able to attack with Magic Missile.
But Gauss worried that, given the man's physical abilities, he might not be able to keep the target locked on while casting.
I'm still too weak.
The Night Owl Squad had made Gauss realize that, despite thinking he'd made good progress, he still had a long way to go.
Against a professional, he probably wasn't much different from an ordinary person.
The onlookers dispersed, no longer interested in watching, afraid the trouble might come looking for them.
Gauss looked away and quickened his pace.
He wasn't frightened like the other passersby. He simply wanted to get stronger as soon as possible.
They needed to arrange their next commission right away.
Knock, knock!
After giving Leven's name to the attendant at the counter, Gauss went up the stairs to a room on the second floor of the tavern.
"Room 3."
Leven rented it long-term.
Before long, a voice came from behind the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Gauss."
A chair scraped across the floor inside, and soon Leven opened the door.
"You're here to talk about a commission, right? I was just about to come find you."
Leven stepped aside to let Gauss in.
His room wasn't especially luxurious, but it had all the necessary furniture.
When Gauss arrived, Leven seemed to be maintaining his equipment.
The Oak Greatshield sat in the middle of the table. Beside it were beeswax, resin, a bristle brush, and a small iron spatula.
"I was planning to come find you today, anyway." Leven picked up the brush and continued tending to the wooden shield, speaking in an unhurried tone. "I wanted to let you know that if the weather's still clear tomorrow, we'll meet at the Adventurer's Guild."
"Now that you're here, I can save myself a trip."
Leven stretched. After days of rain, he was getting restless too.
A professional's skills would deteriorate if left unpracticed for too long. A few days without training wouldn't be enough to cause any real decline, but Leven still felt uneasy.
He couldn't shake the feeling that spending a few days lying around had lowered his chances of becoming a professional in the future.
"Want me to let the others know?"
"No need. I'll go myself this afternoon. It'll give me a chance to get out."
Gauss stayed in Leven's room a little longer, learning how he cared for the wooden shield and picking up a few tips.
His memory was excellent. After only a few demonstrations, he'd committed the simple maintenance techniques and steps to memory, so he left feeling satisfied.
The next day.
The weather was still clear.
Gauss put on his gear and left the inn.
He arrived at the crowded Adventurer's Guild.
There were more commission notices pinned to the wall than usual.
"What should we take on this time?" Doyle rubbed his hands together, looking excited. "I feel like I'm about to master Cross Slash. I've got a really strong feeling about it."
"You said the same thing for a while last year," Meva reminded him expressionlessly from behind.
"This time it's really different!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what you said last year, too."
Many adventurers often got the mistaken impression that they were about to master a skill and enter the stage of receiving guidance on their Path.
After all, there was no clear way to quantify their progress. They could only judge it by how they felt.
But feelings changed with one's mood and subjective opinions, making them highly misleading.
"You'd better keep your head on straight. Be careful—I've heard of adventurers who kept convincing themselves they were about to step onto their Path, then eventually had mental breakdowns and went mad." Oliver patted Doyle on the shoulder as well.
Gauss watched in silence from the side.
Once again, he was grateful that his skill proficiency displayed his progress directly. It really was overpowered.
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