Chapter 63: Ancient Goblin
Back at the Adventurer’s Guild, Lance explained his purpose to the receptionist behind the counter.
Surprisingly, the Guild Master wasn’t in his third-floor office at the moment.
"The Guild Master is in the high-level training area. Please follow me."
Led by the clerk, Lance passed through a side door of the Guild hall and arrived at a closed-off area separate from the main building.
This was the exclusive high-level training area for Professionals.
The clerk led Lance straight to the highest-spec, isolated training room in the very back.
Standing before the heavy metal door, Lance couldn’t help but feel a flicker of doubt.
Back when he was a Copyist, he had heard some rumors about High Tier Professionals.
It was said that when a Professional Level surpassed the ten-Level mark and entered the Extraordinary Domain, the human body would gradually become Mutated under the cleansing of highly concentrated Magic Power.
For powerhouses of that caliber, simple physical training seemed to have lost its meaning.
And the Guild Master was rumored to be just such a powerhouse.
However...
BOOM!
A deep, heavy thud erupted from within the room, shattering his train of thought.
Even though the training room was built with top-of-the-line soundproofing, the noise still exploded beside his ears like muffled thunder.
Lance could even feel the ground beneath his feet trembling slightly.
He looked down and was surprised to see the dust in the crack under the door jumping with each rhythmic thud.
The sound reminded him of the hydraulic crushers he had seen at a scrapyard in his previous life.
Only when a solid, multi-ton block of iron smashed down from a great height onto fragile metal would it produce such a terrifying sound.
’Could a human really be making this much noise?’
The clerk seemed to be completely used to it.
He walked to the door and pulled a brass lever on the side, which was connected to the interior.
It was a notification device, similar to a doorbell.
Before long, the violent, crashing sounds from inside suddenly ceased.
Immediately after, a sound like a high-pressure steam valve releasing air hissed, and with a soft click, the heavy metal door slowly slid open to the sides.
"Please, come in, Mr. Raven."
The clerk gestured, stepping aside.
Lance strode in, passed through a corridor, and entered the room. It wasn’t the training ground full of equipment he had imagined, but a luxuriously furnished lounge.
A wool carpet lay underfoot, and the air was filled with the scent of some calming incense.
Along one side of the room stood a row of bookshelves, a large leather sofa, and a mahogany desk. On the desk sat chilled drinks and a platter of exquisite fruit.
The office uniform the Guild Master had worn that morning was now hanging neatly on a nearby coat rack.
Lance glanced around and couldn’t help but scoff internally.
’Not only is there a private bathroom, there’s even a special Magic-powered climate control system.’
’And then I think about my own training room, the one I have to pay a 10 Copper Coin maintenance fee for every night, with nothing but a few broken wooden dummies inside.’
’This disparity...’
Just then, the door at the far end of the lounge, the one leading to the core training area, was pushed open.
Necros walked out, bare-chested.
When Lance got a clear look at the old man, he was surprised by what he saw.
He had long known the Guild Master was elderly, with graying temples.
But his bare upper body showed none of the flab of an old man. Instead, his muscles were corded and dense, like blocks of granite.
What was most shocking were the scars that covered his entire body.
The scars, large and small, crisscrossed his body like ugly Centipedes crawling all over his chest and back.
A few of the scars were particularly gruesome.
One ran diagonally from his left shoulder to the right side of his abdomen, the puckered flesh of the healed wound a thumb’s width thick.
Another was a sunken, hollow scar over his heart, suggesting a piercing wound.
These old wounds silently testified to the brutal battles the old man had once endured.
Lance couldn’t even imagine how someone could have survived after sustaining such severe injuries.
HUFF...
Necros let out a long breath and casually picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from his body.
He walked over to the coat rack, took down his shirt and draped it over his shoulders, and chuckled self-deprecatingly as he began to button it up.
"I’m really getting old."
"I only trained for a little while, and my body is already starting to protest."
Seeing that badge today had stirred up old memories, making him want to move his body around a bit.
But he had to powerlessly admit that this body he was once so proud of had finally begun to decay under the erosion of time and the burden of old injuries.
Necros rolled his stiff shoulders, which produced a sharp cracking sound.
"If it really came down to a fight, with the state my body is in now, I could probably only perform at the level of a Level 8 Professional at most."
Lance’s eyelid twitched.
’Level 8?’
’In this backwater town where even a Level 4 Professional can walk around like they own the place, a Level 8 is a deterrence-level fighting force.’
’Is this the hidden strength of a veteran Adventurer?’
Necros finished dressing, his dignified appearance restored.
He walked to the desk, poured two glasses of water, and gestured for Lance to sit.
"So, how was it?"
The old man lifted his glass, took a sip, and a faint smile touched his lips.
"That little girl today, was she a lot of trouble to guide?"
In his view, making a pragmatist like Lance guide a pampered noble lady would surely result in a bellyful of complaints.
He was even prepared to hear Lance complain or even demand more money.
However, Lance’s answer surprised him.
"No."
Lance shook his head, his tone sincere and frank.
"She’s very exceptional."
"She lacks common sense and her physical fitness is poor, but she’s a quick learner, and..."
Lance paused, recalling the girl’s performance from the day.
"She has a Resilience that many newcomers lack."
The office was silent for a few seconds.
Necros looked at Lance in surprise, confirming that there was no flattery or perfunctory sentiment in his words.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The old man suddenly burst into hearty laughter, his beard trembling with the force of it.
"Good! Very good!"
"You kid, you really are something."
He had originally only admired Lance’s abilities, but now it seemed the kid was far more broad-minded than he had expected.
The laughter gradually died down.
Necros took a thin booklet out of his desk drawer and tossed it to Lance.
"Here. This is the reward I promised you."
Lance reached out and caught it steadily.
The booklet was clearly a hand-copied version. There was no name on the cover, and opening it revealed diagrams of the human body, along with cultivation instructions for a Breathing Combat Technique written in the common tongue.
"This Breathing Combat Technique doesn’t have a name."
Necros leaned back in his chair and said slowly,
"I found it in the depths of a goblin ruin when I was young."
"Goblins?"
Lance looked at the booklet in his hand, his mind conjuring an image of creatures obsessed with nothing but Gold Coins and explosives.
As if sensing Lance’s doubt, Necros corrected him,
"Don’t confuse the goblins you see today with the Ancient Goblins."