Every Day, He Could See Himself Growing Stronger

With this specialty bonus, even a mere 5% adjustment was enough to make the sword tip "bite" into the surface the instant it touched its target.

Where it had once taken two or three attempts to inflict effective armor-piercing damage, now one strike was enough.

In terms of consistency, this unremarkable specialty had directly brought a qualitative leap in the efficiency of thrusting sword techniques.

He kept training for a while longer, only stopping when his stomach began to growl with hunger.

He returned his shield and sword to the rack, then lowered his head for a look.

The tip of the training sword had clearly been worn flat, while the iron-bound wooden training dummy had been poked full of holes, with wood chips scattered all over the floor.

Lance felt that the ten copper coins had been money very well spent.

If he had bought his own equipment to train with, the daily maintenance costs from wear and tear alone would probably have come close to fifty copper coins.

"Praise Nia once again."

Lance silently gave the receptionist a thumbs-up in his heart.

If not for her recommendation back then, how could he have enjoyed Guild benefits that were practically free?

After putting away his training gear, Lance left the training grounds in a rather good mood.

The feeling of being able to clearly see himself growing stronger every day was truly addictive.

After filling his stomach at Amber's tavern next door, he could go home and check on the jars of Blood-Clotting Moss that were drying in the shade.

If the improved Hemostatic Ointment worked as expected, it would mean he had another stable source of income in this other world.

By the time he walked out of the Adventurers' Guild, it was already completely dark outside.

At this hour, pedestrians on the streets were sparse. Only a few shops catering specifically to adventurers still had their lights on, giving off enticing food aromas in the slightly chilly night.

Amber's tavern, The Boar and Rose, was only a few steps from the Guild.

The heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. Before he even got close, the rowdy clamor inside and the smoky scent of grilled meat slipped out through the crack.

This tavern was a golden nameplate in Grayrock Town.

Amber's father had once been a renowned professional adventurer in Grayrock Town. It was said that the adventuring party he had belonged to was fairly famous even in White River City, the provincial capital.

After retiring for certain reasons, that formidable man had opened this tavern.

He usually served as the head chef in the kitchen, and his brewing skills were exceptional, drawing drunks from all around.

If the man had wanted to become a full-time liquor merchant, Amber would at least be considered a wealthy second-generation miss by now.

With such a great figure sitting here, ordinary people truly did not dare cause trouble.

Lance pushed open the door and walked inside.

A warm yellow glow greeted him. Orange-red flames crackled in the fireplace, while old-fashioned lanterns hanging from the surrounding walls gave off soft light.

His ears filled with the sharp clinks of wooden tankards colliding violently, along with the cheerful lute melody played by a bard in the corner.

The tavern had two floors. The center of the first floor was the dining area, taking up two-thirds of the space.

More than a dozen huge oak tables were packed with adventurers of all kinds.

Waitresses in cinched dresses weaved nimbly through the crowded hall like butterflies, skillfully avoiding the wandering hands of drunkards trying to grope them.

Lance expertly passed through the central area and headed straight for the bar.

From far away, he spotted that figure as fiery as a blaze.

Amber had tied her distinctive golden-red hair into a neat high ponytail, which bounced with her movements beneath the lights.

She wore a fitted white low-cut blouse beneath a black corset vest, paired with a dark long skirt that allowed easy movement.

The astonishing curves at her chest were especially imposing whenever she bent down to pour drinks.

At the moment, she was carrying three enormous wooden beer mugs in one hand, the smooth lines of muscle on her arm slightly bulging.

She deftly twisted open the brass tap on a keg, and white foam instantly overflowed from the mugs.

She set the filled drinks down heavily in front of the bar, her movements bold and carefree.

Lance was about to head over when his steps paused slightly.

He saw someone at the bar whom he did not want to meet.

It was a gloomy-eyed middle-aged man, currently grumbling and ranting with spittle flying everywhere.

Hakon the Coin Counter.

That nickname was infamous among Grayrock Town's lower-tier adventurers.

It was said that over the division of loot, he had once come to blows with his teammates over a few copper coins' worth of materials.

Later, after seeing someone he had previously argued with at a tavern, he had apparently started another fight on the spot. In the end, both men had been hauled away by patrol officers.

Vindictive, stingy, and fond of causing trouble.

Although his combat ability was decent enough, placing him near the top tier among current non-professional adventurers,

his troublemaking personality meant that no proper party was willing to take him in.

Lance frowned slightly and deliberately took a wide detour around Hakon's area before sitting down at the farthest corner of the bar.

As he passed by, Hakon's drunken complaints still reached his ears.

"Damn it... that slut Nightingale got lured away by some pretty boy from the next town..."

Hakon slapped the table as he cursed indignantly.

"And that damn old Guild bastard, what the hell was he thinking, bringing in all these outsiders? Those locusts have stolen all my income!"

The few adventurers sitting beside him had clearly had too much to drink as well. They listened with great interest, occasionally raising their mugs to echo him, looking as though they shared a common enemy.

Adventurers were like that. Even if they did not know each other, as long as there was gossip or someone to complain about together, they could immediately start chatting enthusiastically.

The moment Lance sat down, Amber, who had been wiping the bar, lit up.

"Hey! Lance!"

She greeted him warmly, but then her gaze turned somewhat resentful, like a neglected young wife.

"What have you been busy with lately? You haven't even had time to come play cards with us."

The Gambling Amber God had been itching for a game for a long time.

"I've been busy training lately."

Lance smiled and offered an explanation.

"Don't be mad. The usual, get me something to eat first."

"Wait there!"

Amber whirled around and hurried into the kitchen.

Not long after, she came back out carrying an enormous tray.

A generous serving of grilled beef brisket was placed before Lance.

The beef was charred on the outside and tender within, hot oil sizzling across its surface as it released a rich meaty aroma.

This feast would sell for at least fifteen copper coins on the menu, but Amber only charged him eight copper coins at cost.

After setting down the plate, Amber did not leave.

She braced both hands on the bar and leaned forward, gossip gleaming in her eyes.

The bits of news she had gathered all day were churning inside her, desperately seeking someone to share them with.

Just as she was about to speak,

an adventurer wearing half-plate armor rapped on the table and loudly called for another drink.

The expression on Amber's face, as if she had been just about to get excited, instantly froze.

She shot the man a resentful glare, then could only sigh helplessly, pick up the mug, and get back to work.