The air was a little chilly.

The weapons test site in the northern city of Ashinir is large. In its oval shape, it is about the same longitudinal length as a standard rifle arena, about 46 meters in metric units of measurement, and an integer of 150 in Avenella.

It is said that the test site was built in the 33rd year of the Avenera calendar by King Lawrence I, modeled after the Colosseum of the ancient Lamanites, but his son Lawrence II the Honourable declared it barbaric and unlawful, and since then the people who live here have used it as a place to shoot arrows or joust in their spare time, and it has not changed to this day.

Sweating profusely, in the area that the Chamber of Commerce had jointly planned to occupy almost a third of the test site, several sturdy men armed with wooden weapons were shouting angrily and attacking each other. On the stone steps on the left side as the auditorium, the inspectors of the Chamber of Commerce are watching carefully.

"Go on, both of them," Rafman Kossono, who is nearly 50 years old this year, has been named the head of the escort recruitment for four years because of his vast experience, and this thin, balding man from Sivalier is as selfless as he seems. During his tenure, there were mercenary groups who tried to bribe all of them to be selected to do some good work, and they bought off almost all the other inspectors, but Rafman was an obstacle that they couldn't get over anyway.

After the matter was revealed, the Chamber of Commerce gave Rafman all the privileges, including layoffs and recruitment, and because of this matter, the thin, bald man was more intimidating than even some tall and muscular warriors within the Union.

- But in any case, Rafman today looks a little tired and has a headache.

"Why are there so many guys who came to apply this time to fish in troubled waters" waved his hand to drive the two guys who looked like they were faking to fight, and Rafman rubbed his forehead as he looked at the waiting area on the other side.

The man he was staring at was one of the tallest people in the general population, one meter nine tall and the black-haired Rafman's eyes were a little bright—for these traits were very much in line with the warlike and warlike northern peoples, but then he noticed the man's weapon, a slender sword with a narrow blade.

'No, please go back, thank you for participating!' the bald, skinny man was about to shout this, but he stopped when his eyes caught a glimpse of the person next to the participant.

It was a white-haired Roan girl, not mistreated, not his slave but more like a companion. As the men lined up to sign up, the girl looked around left and right, her eyes full of curiosity and longing.

The middle-aged man was silent for a moment, then he reached out and touched the top of his head, which no longer had a single hair, and then decided to see how the two men were first.

But he took the time to glance at it again, almost wanting to spit out a mouthful of old blood for the soft-heartedness he had just made.

The wooden weapons used in the test of the competition are all provided by the Chamber of Commerce, because if the contestants are allowed to carry their own, some bad-hearted guy will add iron to the weapon and play with it.

The weapons racks on both sides of the arena range from flat-headed guns made of extremely resilient ash to hard-handed two-handed swords. Although there was no sword of the size that the man carried, a two-handed wooden sword of a similar style still existed—but he.

I chose a one-handed stabbing sword that was not comparable to the wind and horses.

"Miscellaneous but not sophisticated, flashy," Rafman shook his head and concluded to the young man under thirty. Often referred to as a 'lady's weapon' by combat professionals, the one-handed bayonet sword is easy to master even for women with poor physical strength due to its light blade and rear center of gravity. But this precision-oriented stabbing weapon is not as easy to master as it seems.

If the super-long sword carried by the black-haired man combined with his height was a bit flashy but appropriate, with such a physique, he chose this light but highly skilled weapon without giving full play to his physical advantages, and he would look a little swollen and fat.

Maybe it was to show something, or maybe he wasn't as powerful as he seemed to be enough to take on such a light weapon, but in any case, Rafman had little expectation of this man - and he was clearly not the only one who found it ridiculous.

"Ahh

The man who burst out laughing was the tall man's opponent: a typical vulgar mercenary. Holding a wooden sword half the length of a sword in one hand, the green badge hanging brightly and the swaggering and defenseless stance all showed his self-confidence—or arrogance—in his arms.

"Alas......" Rafman shook his head, there are always a few such guys coming in every quarter of recruitment, and in terms of strength and character, they don't look very good. But it's just that you're lucky enough to always run into those weak opponents.

"Why don't you black-box and arrange a few members of the permanent mercenary team to brush this guy down?" Rafman thought, and the next second, before he could react, the laughing mercenary had already fallen to the ground.

"Uh......" There was some silence in the room.

The tall man, who was still in a thrust position, raised his face in confusion as he looked at where the inspector was, "Do you want to shout to start?" asked in a slightly louder voice.

"Uh...... That's not ......," replied a female inspector in her mid-30s, and the dark-haired man who received a sure answer nodded, "That's good."

"Boom---" He stood on the spot and flicked his right hand hard, and the one-handed bayonet sword drew a perfect arc and slammed into the abdomen of the fallen mercenary, and the man immediately let out a cry of pain, and then this time he actually fainted.

"......" Rafman's eyes became serious, and he stepped aside and instructed the members of his chamber of commerce.

"Go and ask the people from the Fort Mercenary Regiment and arrange for them to deal with that guy. The thin, balding middle-aged man said, and the strength of the black-haired man caught his real attention. Although the opponent is just a green card mercenary, if you really want to fight, you can catch half a dozen of any catch that can kill him. But the cautious Rafman remains serious.

Because killing people is not a difficult thing in the final analysis - what is really difficult is how to knock out the opponent cleanly without killing someone.

Just two attacks.

Only a character with a strong grasp of power can do this kind of thing, and such a person who does not spend his days in a well-known mercenary group, adventurer organization, army, or aristocratic guard with an iron rice bowl in his hand, but comes here to apply for a small position that is not considered a good salary in the eyes of the truly powerful, and the experienced Rafman cannot help but doubt this.

Even if he was a little soft-hearted to them because of the fact that the other party brought a Luoan girl, as a high-level member of the Chamber of Commerce, he always put the interests of the Chamber of Commerce first.

-- This is where our Sage Man will face next.

Neither of them spoke.

After defeating the first rude and arrogant mercenary, the man who appeared in front of Henry was fundamentally different from the one before him.

First of all, huh...... He's a her.

He is about the same age as Henry, with all his red hair tied back at the back of his head, his emerald green eyes are focused and serious, and his slender eyebrows show a very serious and capable feeling.

Her shapely body was encased in the delicately tanned smooth animal skins and slim-fitting garments sewn from burlap that female adventurers loved, and she assumed a vigilant posture just as soon as she entered the field.

The female mercenaries are armed with flat-headed wooden spears, which are just the right counterweight to the one-handed swords that Henry now uses. And she was clearly aware of her strengths, and in this one-third and one-third of the tiny field, she kept on the fringes from the start, not giving Henry any chance to get close to the weapon.

The psychological pressure of fighting with wooden weapons is far less than that of metal weapons, and a wooden gun without a clear tip is actually a stick, so except for a few cowards who have not even tried sparring, the vast majority of people will not retreat because of its stabbing blows. On the contrary, seizing the gap of the stabbing attack and approaching in an instant, turning the advantage of the length of the spear into a disadvantage, and taking advantage of the opponent's slow attack speed that cannot return to defense in time to quickly knock down the opponent or disarm it will be the choice of the experienced.

But this female mercenary obviously won't let Henry succeed so easily.

She kept moving slightly, breathing, and the wooden gun in her hand was held calmly without appearing overly nervous.

Experienced, far above the blue card, most likely an orange mercenary. Henry judged that the situation seemed a little tricky to ordinary people, but he only thought for a moment before attacking.

"Smack!" The sage with the sword in one hand took a sharp step forward and ran over, and then in the next second, as if prescient, he crouched down to dodge the wooden spear that the female mercenary thrusted forward, "Click-" Henry stuck the bayonet sword on the barrel of the wooden gun with his backhand, if it had a spear head, the sage's move could block the opponent's recovery, but it didn't, and the female mercenary was obviously a veteran.

"Smack!" she shook the elastic wooden spear made of ash wood with one hand, and opened Henry's bayonet sword, and then strode forward with her right foot, and then stabbed forward with one hand and stabbed forward with the gun, and then raised it high, and used the gun as a stick to slash directly at Henry.

"Whew!" A series of reactions were like lightning and flint, but the blow of the wooden spear with a huge attack range did not have any hit feel.

The red-haired female mercenary widened her beautiful emerald green eyes, and then decisively discarded the spear in her hand and rolled on the ground.

"Smack!"

An afterimage flashed, rolling up a puff of light dust and the female mercenary with a lot of ash on her face and clothes avoided a stab from Henry, the sage did not hit, but she obviously could not continue to fight without her weapon, so it was more decent to admit defeat - the female mercenary thought so, and a cold color suddenly flashed in her eyes.

She stood up, dusted herself and looked at Henry, opening her mouth to say the first words since they met.

"Did you do it on purpose?" the female mercenary asked Henry, apparently referring to the sage's sudden increase in speed, and if Henry had rushed at full speed at the beginning, she would have been able to take her off guard with a continuous high-speed attack with the high speed of her one-handed sword, and she would have been defeated. But instead of doing so, he chose to lure himself into attacking, spreading his weapon so far that he couldn't recover it in time, so he had to give up in order to dodge the attack.

"Yes" The black-haired sage nodded, which made the cold color in the female mercenary's eyes even worse.

"Because I'm a woman?" she asked, and her momentum changed as she reassumed a fighting stance, as if Henry's next answer would decide his life or death.

But in the face of this pressure, our Sage Mr. just shrugged his shoulders: "No, just because you are more polite"

“......”

The female mercenary fell silent, and after a moment she sneered.

"But you do look a lot better than that guy," Henry said, and the red-haired mercenary shook her head with a smile and turned to look at Rafman on the steps.

"This guy is fine, let him join," she shouted, and the bald middle-aged man more than ten meters away nodded.

"So you're a big shot?" said Henry, who knew from the moment she took the field that the female mercenary wasn't an ordinary participant, but that was his purpose. If he doesn't behave strongly, he will come to the door automatically in trouble.

Typical people such as 'this girl is a spy who hooked up with the Loan bandits and came to find out the news' and so on will inevitably appear during this time of travel, and while Henry doesn't mind making them cry one by one, he doesn't want the outwardly strong, but in fact still fragile, the Loan girl will feel sad and blame herself for these frivolous things. In addition, he is now more or less Mira's 'teacher', and he is not a qualified educator if he doesn't behave well in front of his students.

To sum up, contrary to Henry's previous style, he made a small limelight this time and attracted some attention.

After all, the travel of two people is necessarily different from that of one person.

The days will probably not be the same again.

The black-haired sage thought, while the red-haired mercenary in front of him shrugged her shoulders as he had done before, "I'll be your commander for the rest of the year, Adela Mihir, the deputy head of the Fort Mercenary Regiment," she walked over and held out her hand.

"Henry Mayer, please advise," Henry gripped the slender but well-trained palms.

"Each other," replied Adele.