With this specialty boost, even a mere 5% adjustment was enough to make the sword tip "bite" into the surface the instant it touched its target.
Damage that previously required two or three attempts to break through armor could now be dealt in a single strike.
In terms of stability, this unremarkable specialty had directly brought a qualitative leap in the efficiency of thrusting sword techniques.
Lance kept training for a while longer, only stopping when his stomach began to growl.
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 ground flat, while the iron-bound wooden training dummy was riddled with holes from his thrusts, wood chips scattered all over the floor.
Lance felt that those ten copper coins had been money exceptionally 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 more."
Lance silently gave the receptionist a thumbs-up in his heart.
If it had not been 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 simply addictive.
After filling his stomach at Amber's tavern next door, he could head home and check on those jars of Blood-Clotting Moss that were drying in the shade.
If the improved Hemostatic Ointment worked as expected, it would mean he had gained another stable source of income in this other world.
By the time he stepped out of the Adventurers' Guild, the sky outside had gone completely dark.
At this hour, pedestrians on the streets were already sparse. Only a few shops catering specifically to adventurers still had their lights on, giving off the tempting aroma of food in the slightly chilly night.
Amber's tavern, The Boar and Rose, was only a few steps away from the Guild.
Its heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. Before he even reached it, the noisy clamor inside and the charred aroma of grilled meat slipped out through the gap.
This tavern was a golden signboard in Grayrock Town.
Amber's father had once been a famous professional adventurer in Grayrock Town. It was said that the adventuring party he had belonged to had enjoyed quite a reputation even in White River City, the provincial capital.
After retiring for certain reasons, that formidable man had opened this tavern.
He usually worked as the head chef in the back kitchen, and he also possessed an exceptional talent for brewing, drawing drunkards from all around.
If that uncle had not refused to become a full-time alcohol merchant, Amber would at least count as the daughter of a wealthy family by now.
With such an imposing figure keeping watch, ordinary people truly did not dare make trouble here.
Lance pushed open the door and walked in.
A warm yellow glow filled his vision. Orange-red flames crackled in the fireplace, while old-fashioned lanterns hanging from the surrounding walls cast soft light.
His ears were filled with the sharp clink of wooden mugs smashing together, along with the lively tune of a lute 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 massive oak tables were crowded with all manner of adventurers.
Waitresses in fitted dresses flitted nimbly through the packed crowd like butterflies, skillfully avoiding the wandering hands of drunkards trying to cop a feel.
Lance expertly crossed through the central area and headed straight for the bar.
From a distance, he spotted that fiery figure at once.
Amber had tied her signature golden-red hair high into a neat ponytail, and it bounced with her movements beneath the lights.
She wore a tight white low-cut blouse beneath a black corset vest, paired with a dark long skirt that allowed for easy movement.
The astonishing curve of her chest was especially imposing whenever she bent over to pour drinks.
At the moment, she held three enormous wooden beer mugs in one hand, the smooth lines of muscle in her arm faintly flexing.
She deftly twisted open the brass tap on a barrel, and white foam instantly overflowed the rims of the mugs.
She slammed the filled drinks down onto the bar with a bold flourish.
Lance was just about to walk over when his steps paused slightly.
He spotted someone at the bar whom he did not want to see.
It was a gloomy-eyed middle-aged man, spraying saliva as he grumbled away.
Hakon the Coin Counter.
That nickname was infamous among Grayrock Town's lower-tier adventurers.
It was said that he had once come to blows with his teammates over a few copper coins' worth of materials during the division of spoils.
Later, after seeing someone he had argued with in a tavern, he had apparently started another fight on the spot. In the end, both men had been taken away by the patrol officers.
Vindictive, stingy, and fond of causing trouble.
Although his combat ability was decent enough, placing him close to 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 neighboring town..."
Hakon slapped the table as he cursed resentfully.
"And that damned old man at the Guild, 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 drunk too much as well. They listened with great interest, occasionally raising their mugs to chime in, looking as though they shared a common enemy.
Adventurers were like that. Even if they did not know one another, as long as there was gossip or someone they could all complain about, they could immediately get talking with great enthusiasm.
The moment Lance sat down, Amber, who had been wiping the bar, lit up.
"Hey! Lance!"
She greeted him warmly, but then her gaze became 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."
Gambling Amber God had been itching to play for a long time.
"I've been busy training lately," Lance explained with a smile.
"Don't be mad. Same as usual—get me something to eat first."
"Just wait!"
Amber whirled around and rushed into the back kitchen.
Not long after, she emerged 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, sizzling with hot oil on the surface and giving off a rich meaty fragrance.
Such a feast would cost at least fifteen copper coins on the menu, but Amber charged him only the eight-coin cost price.
After setting down the plate, Amber did not leave.
She braced both hands against the bar and leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with gossip.
All the tidbits she had gathered over the day churned inside her, desperate to be shared with someone.
Just as she was about to speak,
an adventurer wearing half-plate armor knocked on the table and loudly demanded more beer.
The expression on Amber's face, which had been ready to light up, froze instantly.
She shot the man a resentful glare, then could only sigh helplessly, pick up the mugs, and get back to work.
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