Ronald didn't intend to explain, because this misunderstanding could help him avoid some troubles, like those three ruffians who were clearly planning to ambush him earlier.

"How long has the Adventurer's Home been operating in Dragon Fort?" Ronald asked lightly. His confident demeanor, as if he had everything under control, was quite intimidating to Barbara.

"The Adventurer's Home is as old as Dragon Fort itself, but I've only been running it for seven years," Barbara replied truthfully, unconsciously straightening her posture.

"That long, huh. Then you must be very familiar with the surroundings. I need information about the underground labyrinth. Name your price."

Ronald didn't lower his voice, so the adventurers at the nearby tables could hear him too.

Before Barbara could respond, the mercenaries around them scoffed.

"Ha, another fool seeking death."

"We get youngsters like this every year, nothing unusual."

"Kid, let me give you some advice. Go back home, don't throw away your life for curiosity."

After the adventurers finished speaking, Barbara looked at Ronald and asked gently, "You heard them. Do you still want information about the labyrinth?"

Did Ronald have a choice? Of course he did, but the price would be spending several times more effort and time.

That was something Ronald could hardly accept. With his severely lacking sense of security, Ronald was more eager than anyone to gain powerful strength. So he nodded firmly without any hesitation.

Ronald's decisiveness was exactly like those reckless noble youths who pursue curiosity regardless of consequences.

Angry rebukes sounded from around them.

"Hopeless fool."

"Another poor soul brainwashed by knightly novels."

"Let him be. At least it's not us dying."

Under the "seeing a corpse" looks from the adventurers, Ronald completed this information transaction.

After paying the coins, his coin pouch flattened to just a few silvers.

A hero isn't defeated by lack of money. To avoid sleeping on the streets, Ronald set out for the underground labyrinth early next morning.

But leaving early still didn't help him avoid trouble. After exiting the inn doors, Ronald felt he was being watched.

The stalkers thought they were being extremely discreet, but they underestimated the vigilance of a "persecution maniac".

After leading them in circles for a bit, Ronald figured out their number and strength.

It was the twelve men from the gang last night, except for the two leaders who were professionals, the rest were just thugs with some brawn.

Noticing they didn't plan to make a move in the city, Ronald headed towards the city gates.

Shortly after leaving Dragon Fort, Ronald stopped.

A skinny man wielding a short dagger jumped out from the roadside bushes up ahead, blocking his path.

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Soon after his appearance, the sound of galloping horses came from behind. By the time the yellow dust settled, Ronald was surrounded by a group of otherworldly killer mattes.

Ronald halted and frowned at the men, though a corner of his mind stayed focused on the magic traps he had laid.

A killer matte with purple eye shadow pushed his minions aside and walked up front. He looked Ronald up and down appraisingly, then nodded and said, "Not bad, just the type our bosses like."

He added after a pause, "Kid, come join us. As long as you learn to shake your ass and act cute, after working a few years you can enjoy a good life surrounded by female servants."

Ronald's face darkened at the words.

Selling his body was not something Ronald would accept in either world, even if it was to women.

Just as he was about to refuse, an icy chill abruptly crept up his scalp, jolting him with a shiver.

Without hesitation, Ronald swiftly crouched down.

A flash of gloom raced by from the side, shattering his angled stance spell and embedding itself into the yellow earth by Ronald's right hand.

That was close!

Just a tiny bit more and Ronald would have gotten his head blown off by the archer hiding in the shadows.

Looking at the still quivering arrow nearby, Ronald's pupils contracted. The opponent was using anti-mage arrows, weapons specialized for dealing with mages!

The most terrifying part about these arrows was the toxin on the arrowheads. It was an extremely potent composite poison that would trigger a mage's internal mana to go berserk once in their body, at which point the mage would explode like an inflated balloon with a "pop"...

These people had been watching me all along. The recruitment offer was just an excuse. They want me dead!!!

Ronald pulled out the short sword tucked in his back waist, wielding it single-handedly while staying vigilant. At the same time, he prepared to fire a mana bolt at the turtle in front.

Just as Ronald took on a defensive posture, the misty forest echoed with the twang of a bowstring again. Several shadows burst out from the mist, dressed in tight black outfits that concealed their identities except for a pair of eyes emitting an eerie green glow.

Ronald's heart tightened. Retreating rapidly while firing mana bolts at the same time.

Several spinning spikes condensed in mid-air, creating muffled blasts. The black clad people nearest were sent flying back as if struck by a heavy hammer, tumbling and rolling.

Ronald's most formidable trait was being able to cast spells without chanting. This meant he effectively had no cooldown as long as his mana lasted.

With a thought, over a dozen crescent blades quickly materialized in the air.

Ronald pointed, and the blades criss-crossed through the densest part of the crowd.

Thuds sounded in succession. Where Ronald's gaze landed, no creatures remained standing.

Severed limbs, humans crawling and wailing in pain. It looked like Ronald had already won, but in truth he hadn't relaxed his vigilance one bit.

Not to mention the archer still hiding unseen, just the black clad people before him were very difficult to deal with.

Despite having fist-sized holes punched through their bodies, some even bisected, they still didn't die.

These monsters slowly crawled up from the ground, constantly spewing black blood from their noses and mouths. The blood sizzled when dripping to the ground.

Ronald watched as they crawled to their lower halves, pulled them to their waists, then flesh buds swiftly shifted...

In just a few seconds, the bisected bodies were restored as before.

Ronald admitted he was frightened. He cast buff spells on himself in quick succession - Light Body, Heightened Senses, Clarity, Tread on Air and more.

Elemental radiances flickered wildly. Cries of shock came from the mist, evidently surprised by Ronald's casting speed.

Over ten support spells in just a few seconds. Only a full fledge mage could attain such speed.

While the monsters were still getting back up, Ronald had retreated over ten meters.

Judging the distance sufficient, Ronald pointed at the creatures straightening their backs and gathering terrifying heat at the center of his palm.

A high pitched whine sounded, the mist parted to reveal a narrow hole. An even swifter glow shot out from within.

The archer's timing was excellent, intercepting right as the mage was about to unleash his spell, the moment when mages were most vulnerable.

Because spell constructs require mental strength to maintain, a mage's external awareness would weaken. This was when it was easiest for archers to take them down.

A qualified shooter would never miss this chance, and the opponent did follow up with an attack.

Normally, the assassin could have already put away his longbow, since no mage could survive a strike like this.

However, this shooter encountered an outlier.

As a spellcaster himself, Ronald was well aware of this weakness. His overt eagerness to deal with the black clad men was actually bait to determine the archer's location.

Arrogant as it may sound, of this wave of assailants, the one Ronald was most wary of wasn't the gang members who were just bait, nor the seemingly unkillable black clad monsters, but the archer who had yet to reveal himself.