Translator: CinderTL
"Hah..."
Roland slowly exhaled, gradually awakening from a deep sleep. His consciousness felt as if it were slowly rising from the dark depths of the ocean to the surface.
He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the familiar, rough stone ceiling, where clusters of moss emitting a faint blue glow were embedded, providing the only light in the room.
The air was filled with a scent unique to the drow habitat—a mixture of subterranean herbs, damp rock, and a faint, lingering cold fragrance.
Three whole months had passed since that monumental battle against Corellon's avatar.
The outcome of that conflict had profoundly altered the balance of power in this region.
The surface elves had once again felt the call of mana, reclaiming their long-lost spellcasting abilities. Though it would take time to relearn and master these powers, the destiny of their entire race had already taken a pivotal turn.
Meanwhile, the drow, having suffered devastating losses in their brief clash with Corellon, had temporarily lost the momentum and strength to continue their offensive.
Thus, for the past three months, the two sides had maintained a delicate and fragile truce.
Because Avril was the chosen of the Spider Queen Lolth, Roland and his companions had chosen to remain in the drow camp to recuperate.
Recalling the fierce battle of that day, Roland shook his head and turned his focus inward, assessing his own condition.
Though he had awakened shortly after losing consciousness, the injuries lingering in his body were far more stubborn than he had anticipated. The conceptual damage wrought by Corellon's divine power, combined with the backlash from forcing his own limits, clung to him like a bone-deep parasite, impossible to fully eradicate.
Even now, he could clearly feel the weakness that had yet to fully recede.
The moment he tried to channel the energy within him, a faint sting and a sense of stagnation pulsed through his meridians, as if the once-clear riverbed were now strewn with hidden reefs and clogs.
Though the Primal Core continued to churn slowly, radiating a gentle warmth that nourished his wounds, the speed of recovery was frustratingly slow.
At this moment, his body was like a piece of exquisite porcelain, covered in hairline fractures and hastily glued back together. It appeared whole, but in truth, it was fragile—far from being able to withstand another high-intensity battle.
But...
Roland slowly clenched his fist, feeling the strength—a mere shadow of its former self—and let out another long sigh.
"At least I'm not in mortal danger, and there's no permanent damage."
"All I need to return to my peak is time and patience. This is already..."
Recalling the terrifying power Corellon had displayed, Roland shook his head slowly.
"...a blessing in disguise."
Leaning back on the rough stone couch, he closed his eyes, and the memory of the harrowing battle from three months ago played out clearly in his mind.
The spells Corellon had cast weren't impossible to counter.
Constrained by his imperfect avatar, the god was limited to low- and mid-tier spells.
Even with flawless casting techniques and a masterful synergy between them, such spells could never pose a truly lethal threat to him.
Roland knew all too well that if he could only close the distance and engage in the melee combat he excelled in, the defeat of Corellon's avatar would be only a matter of time.
What truly troubled him, even pushing him to the brink of despair, were the fragmented Divine Authorities—shards of cosmic law woven into the conventional attacks.
This power transcended mere elements and energy, striking directly at the fundamental laws of the world.
It left him with all his strength and speed, yet feeling as if he were trapped in an invisible web, powerless to act.
If not for...
Roland's thoughts trailed off. His gaze involuntarily turned to the Radiant Moon Longsword resting quietly by the bed.
Its silver-white blade, bathed in the glow of the deep blue moss, shimmered with a cool, bright luster, as if it were a faint source of light itself.
Recalling the vast power that had surged from the Radiant Moon that day, Roland still felt an indescribable sense of astonishment, even though three months had passed.
That power possessed a sublime and absolute quality, almost "conceptual" in nature, which he could not fully comprehend.
Moreover, his keen senses whispered that what he had witnessed then was far from the sword's true limit.
Deep within the sword, a more profound and immense power seemed to slumber, like a dormant sea of stars.
At this thought, his long-simmering curiosity resurfaced.
According to Durga, when Radiant Moon was forged, the Gray Dwarf Leader had primarily been responsible for smelting the blade and sealing the "friend's" soul within it. The other, more crucial steps, however, had been completed entirely by "Rudolph" alone.
"So... 'Rudolph,' or rather... the 'me' from back then?"
Roland stared at Radiant Moon, murmuring to himself, his brow furrowed.
"What exactly was added, or what kind of ritual was performed during the forging of this sword, to grant it such power that defies all reason? This can't be explained by mere magical enchantment or energy infusion."
An ordinary enchanted weapon might be peerlessly sharp or able to channel elements, but it could never invoke such a great power—one that seemed to directly interfere with the rules and define "reality" itself.
"What is the true origin of this sword?"
Finding no answers through contemplation, Roland temporarily set aside his questions about Radiant Moon's origins.
With a mere thought, the translucent Job Panel materialized before his eyes.
His gaze swept past the familiar basic information, quickly focusing on the newly appeared Reputation column.
The gilded text listed his standing clearly:
River Domain Nations: Unfriendly Eversong Forest: Unfriendly Locals harbor suspicion toward you. Merchants may refuse to trade, and guards will warn you to keep your distance.
Golden Valley Kingdom: Revered Underdark (Drow): Revered Underdark (Grey Dwarves): Revered You are a living legend, a hero of the race/region. NPCs will bow to you, offer exclusive quests, and grant the best rewards.
As Roland scanned the text, he fell into deep thought.
Ever since the Reputation column had appeared, he had been studying its significance and function.
However, compared to the tempting effects described, the reality was rather "stark."
Although his reputation with the Golden Valley Kingdom and the Drow had reached the "Revered" level—and the description even mentioned "exclusive quests and the best rewards"—his observations and experiences over the past three months revealed no "substantial benefits." There were no special items or skills granted out of thin air, nor did a quest list suddenly materialize before his eyes, as one might expect in a game.
Durga and Duerden truly respected him, and they were never stingy with supplies. But this was more a result of their past friendship and the recognition earned from fighting side-by-side, rather than some invisible rule forcing them to bestow gifts upon him.
"Perhaps..."
Recalling that the information provided by the Job Panel was mostly related to "Awakening" and "taking a job" in certain specific classes, a theory gradually took shape in his mind.
"The true purpose of this 'Reputation System' isn't to directly grant rewards, but... it's related to some Hidden Profession or special identity that I haven't met the conditions for, or haven't 'triggered' yet?"
He muttered to himself.
"Only when Reputation reaches a certain specific requirement, or reaches a certain level in multiple key regions simultaneously, will the 'job application' prerequisite for that unknown profession be met?"
"The so-called 'exclusive quests' and 'best rewards' aren't directly issued by the system, but refer to... the qualification to access and complete legendary quests that truly exist in this world, which can only be accepted by those with a specific reputation, and thus obtain the corresponding rewards?"
Just as Roland was lost in thought about the Reputation System, a light yet familiar set of footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by a clear voice.
"Roland! Are you awake? It's time to eat!"
Before the words had even fully faded, the wooden door creaked open.
Avril walked in carrying a wooden tray. A hopeful, almost eager-to-please smile graced her face as she lifted the tray toward him.
"Look! I made breakfast myself today. Hurry and taste it—how does it taste?"
Seeing this, Roland could only shake his head helplessly.
Ever since the battle with Corellon had ended, Avril seemed to have let down all her defenses. She had not only confided in him about her past and the true reason for her coming to Eversong Forest, but she had even shared the secret of being a chosen one of the Spider Queen Lolth without reservation.
Perhaps it was because there were no longer any shadows in her heart, but the elf girl's temperament had grown more lively by the day.
"I've got it, Avril," Roland said quickly as she walked straight to his bedside, looking as if she intended to feed him by hand. "Just put it on the table. I can do it myself."
As he spoke, he rose and sat down at the rough stone table. He picked up the utensils and took a bite of the food, which appeared to be a mixture of roasted root vegetables and some kind of underground fungus.
However, the moment the food touched his taste buds, Roland's brow furrowed instinctively.
The dish had a bizarre texture—a mix of burnt and undercooked—and it was immediately followed by an unseasoned, earthy bitterness and the pungent, fishy aroma unique to certain fungi. The combination was so foul it nearly made him gag.
"How is it? Is it good?"
Avril asked expectantly, completely oblivious to his sudden tension. She even leaned in closer, her bright eyes sparkling, a few smudges of ash from her time in the kitchen still clinging to her cheek.
Seeing her like that, Roland's Adam's apple bobbed. He forced himself to swallow the indescribable mass of food, fighting to keep his expression neutral as he managed a strained smile and a nod.
"Yes, it's delicious."
To prevent the elf girl from spotting any cracks in his facade, he quickly took a large gulp of water and changed the subject.
"By the way, Avril, the thing I asked you to keep an eye on and look into... have you heard anything?"
(End of the Chapter)
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