Chapter 1178 — The Path of the Adventurer

A short while later, the bell signaling the gate was ready finally rang through the assembly area. More than a dozen adventurer squads, each having received its task, began moving toward the departure passage at the camp's edge. Lora and Mojin left the assembly area behind the hall together with the others, passed along the walkway named "Armiger's Path," and came to the end of the tall, sturdy perimeter wall. A gate cast wholly from alloy rose high before them, its massive door panels sealing off the harsh weather beyond the camp.

Amid the creaking of machinery, the heavy black gate slowly opened, and a howling cold wind rushed in at once. Even behind a layer of breeze shield, the chill of the Arctic region still made people accustomed to warm surroundings shiver.

The endless Thalrond wasteland spread before Mojin's eyes. The old mage could not help laughing and strode outward—

"Ah, the unknown... I'm ready!"

...

On the watchtower atop the high wall, Byron's gaze was fixed on the vast wasteland below. He saw the Adventurers' Gate open and more than a dozen fully armed squads file out, stepping onto the heavily polluted, ruin-strewn plains beyond the town. He could not help but sigh with feeling: "Ah... adventurers... A sight like this always makes me think of my mercenary days."

The voice of the dragon-marked witch Asharena came from beside him: "I don't recall our mercenary days ever having such scale and logistics—a stronghold of this size, an efficient management center, professional task scheduling and logistics teams, semi-standardized equipment, and dragons in the operating area ready to enter as rescue units at any moment. Back then, not even mercenaries had that—regular armies didn't get such treatment."

"Forget back then—even modern regular armies rarely get treatment like this. This is Thalrond, the land of dragons," Byron said with a smile, withdrawing his gaze and looking at the red-haired lady beside him. "I was just making a little association, reminiscing about the old days."

"...The administrators of Agondor have begun pushing the control zone westward. Nearly half of today's adventurer squads are advancing toward the Crystalrock Hills; their mission is to help clear the monsters along the way and secure the safety boundary of this corridor," Asharena said offhandedly. "It seems the dragons are finally no longer content with Agondor as a lone island of safety stranded in the wasteland."

"I heard about that. The dragons seem to plan to open the corridor to the Crystalrock Hills within a week and set up a relay station there to receive transmissions from the west coast," Byron nodded. "If that station is built, communication between Agondor and that monitoring outpost on the west coast will be much easier—at least the communication frequency can be raised to once a day..."

"Considering what that outpost is watching, even a once-a-day frequency doesn't seem high to me," Asharena shook her head. "But given Thalrond's wretched environmental infrastructure right now, the fact that they can manage long-range communication across half a continent is already a miracle. One can't ask for more."

"True... but none of that has much to do with me anymore," Byron shrugged. "I'll be leaving in a couple of days anyway."

"You're returning to the Loren Continent?" Asharena glanced at Byron, a little surprised. "So soon?"

Byron waved his hand and said casually, "I'm the naval commander. My task this time was simply to escort the Alliance's relief supplies and reconstruction teams. Staying in Thalrond too long wouldn't fit the orders I received—I still have to go back and report."

"Fair enough," Asharena nodded, then smiled. "Then it's just as well I should be leaving too. We can travel together on the way back."

"You're leaving too?" This time it was Byron's turn to be surprised. He could not help looking the dragon-blooded lady up and down. "Aren't you the leader of the support team? You're not staying to continue assisting the dragons with their reconstruction?"

Asharena shook her head. "Just like you, my task was really only to bring the team safely to Thalrond—someone else, a dragon-blooded specifically assigned to it, will take over from here."

"I see... I thought you'd still be in charge of coordinating the follow-up reconstruction tasks. I was even wondering how someone with no skills beyond drinking and fighting could handle such professional work..."

Hearing Byron's casual muttering, Asharena could not help but smile faintly. She turned her head to look at her former "mercenary captain," grinned, and from the corners of her mouth drifted a stream of mana flames so condensed they seemed almost solid; scorching dragon breath rose from both sides of her cheeks.

At the sight, Byron paled in alarm: "Hey, hey! Asharena! No need to take it so seriously! Breathing fire in my face right now would count as a diplomatic incident!"

"Hearing a professional term like 'diplomatic incident' from your mouth is a rare thing indeed—but rarer still is your getting my name right in one go," Asharena's lips curled slightly, and the unformed dragon breath dispersed silently. She raised her eyebrows a little provocatively. "What, is that all my impression on you amounts to after all these years—drinking and fighting?"

"...Are you suggesting I say 'beauty and wisdom'?" Byron thought it over carefully and said, none too sure of himself, "If you want me to say that, I suppose I could..."

"Forget it. I imagined what that would sound like coming from you, and it felt like an insult," Asharena said with a strange expression, waving her hand. Then she suddenly stopped, as if sinking into thought and memory, and was silent for several seconds before speaking again. "Impressions from memory... I can hardly recall anymore what those companions who adventured with us in the southern lands all looked like."

Byron glanced at Asharena in surprise. "Don't you dragon-blooded have very long lifespans? I thought those things would still feel to you like they happened yesterday..."

Asharena did not answer. She merely fell into thought once more, and only after several more seconds did she speak slowly: "I want to go see them."

"...You have leave?"

"I can apply for it—it won't be hard."

"Then I can help you get an entry permit."

"Much obliged, Commander."