Translator: CinderTL
"Of course!"
Avril nodded vigorously.
Seeing that Roland seemed to "enjoy" the food she had prepared, her mood brightened even further. She pushed her own untouched tray toward him, completely ignoring the fleeting, almost desperate bitterness that crossed his face.
She leaned her elbows on the stone table, resting her chin in her hands as she began to recount the information she had gathered.
"I asked Elder Do'Urden about it..."
A strange expression flickered across Avril's face at the mention of the drow elder.
Ever since she had revealed her status as a Chosen of the Spider Queen, Do'Urden had been excessively deferential to her.
His attitude—a mixture of awe, fanaticism, and a hint of instinctive fear—always made her feel uneasy, as if countless tiny insects were crawling all over her.
She subconsciously rubbed her arm before continuing.
"He said the most common and numerous demonic beasts in this area are troglodytes."
"They usually live in packs in dark caves or abandoned mines. They're not very bright—cowardly and greedy by nature. They survive by digging up roots, hunting small animals, or ambushing lone travelers from other races."
"When they gather in large numbers, they occasionally summon the courage to crawl to the surface and attack passing caravans and travelers."
The elf girl pursed her lips, her tone tinged with disdain.
"As for their strength... it's probably about the same as surface-dwelling goblins. Their individual combat power is very weak; they mainly rely on numbers. And I made sure to ask specifically," she added.
"The nearest troglodyte settlement isn't far from here, and the route isn't complicated. A round trip should only take about half a day. Oh, by the way..."
She stopped halfway through her sentence, noticing that Roland seemed to be choking as he tried to quickly "eliminate" the terrible pile of food in front of him. She hurriedly handed him a glass of water, tilting her head curiously.
"Roland, why are you suddenly asking me to look up detailed information on these low-level demonic beasts... What are you planning to do?"
Taking the water and gulping it down in several large mouthfuls to wash down the terrible mass of food stuck in his throat, Roland caught his breath and explained.
"I just want to find a suitable target to test how much of my strength has recovered, and... stretch my muscles a bit."
Avril was long since used to Roland's near-obsessive attitude toward his strength. Hearing this, she didn't suspect a thing, but simply asked with concern.
"Do you need me to come with you?"
Roland shook his head.
He had assessed his current condition. Though far from his peak, he still possessed the strength of an ordinary transcendent professional, which was more than enough to deal with a rabble of troglodytes.
More importantly, the fundamental purpose of this trip was to complete his class advancement to [Rogue].
The requirements for the advancement clearly stated that he needed to "independently complete thirty successful stealth infiltrations or assassinations."
If Avril accompanied him, she would see him—possessing overwhelming power—acting like an assassin in the shadows, stealthily assassinating the lowest-level troglodytes. She would surely be suspicious, and he would have to explain himself. Going alone would spare him all that trouble.
"Your injuries haven't fully healed yet. You should get more rest," Roland said, offering a plausible excuse.
"I'll just ask Elder Do'Urden to assign a drow who knows the terrain to guide me. You stay here and keep an eye on Durga and Mr. Bronson for me. Don't let them cause any trouble."
Mentioning those two restless companions, Roland paused. He suddenly thought of another figure he hadn't seen in a long time and looked at Avril with a hint of curiosity.
"By the way... what's Galvis been up to lately? I feel like... I haven't heard from him or seen him in ages."
"That guy..."
At the mention of Galvis, Avril's face twisted into an expression of undisguised disdain.
"He solemnly informed everyone not to disturb him until he completed his 'Great Work,' then locked himself in his room. He hasn't set foot outside for over two whole months!"
The elf girl gestured dramatically.
"If the food trays left at his door every day hadn't been brought back in completely empty, I'd be wondering if he'd quietly died inside and started to rot."
Hearing this, Roland immediately understood what his bard friend was busy with.
When he had first awakened from his coma, everyone else had been concerned about his health. Only Galvis, his troublesome friend, had relentlessly pestered him.
He had insisted that Roland recount every single detail of his experiences, from the moment he arrived in the Stone Kingdom to the final battle with Corellon's avatar, refusing to let even the smallest detail slip. It had been utterly exhausting.
Now that the guy had shut himself away, he must be diligently writing that thick notebook titled Mortal Hero.
Just thinking about the blunt title and the fact that he would be its protagonist, a wave of heat—a mix of embarrassment and shame—slowly crept up Roland's cheeks.
He shook his head vigorously, as if that could banish the cringeworthy images from his mind.
Forcing down his chaotic thoughts, he continued to chat with Avril about trivial camp matters. Meanwhile, he gritted his teeth and, with astonishing willpower, completely finished the food on his plate, which tasted so bizarre it defied description.
Only after watching the elf girl's satisfied smile as she gracefully carried away the empty tray did Roland finally breathe a sigh of relief.
He gently patted his throat, helping the food scraps that had stubbornly resisted sliding down to complete their final journey, lest all his efforts go to waste.
After a brief moment to compose himself, he securely fastened the Radiant Moon Longsword to his waist, pushed open the heavy wooden door, and stepped out.
He walked straight toward the center of the camp, where the World Tree's roots sprawled and radiated an ancient, desolate aura.
Gazing up at the World Tree's roots, which rose like a mountain range and pierced the rocky vault above, Roland's thoughts gradually drifted away.
Ever since his battle with Corellon, a question had been gnawing at him.
Why did the surface elves immediately regain their spellcasting abilities after Tula's avatar was destroyed?
It wasn't until he returned to the Drow Camp and once again felt the World Tree's boundless and unique aura of life and magic that a hypothesis began to take shape.
According to Duerden, the World Tree served as the very foundation and source of power that sustained both the surface elves and the drow. The drow had only regained their spellcasting abilities after the mana tide returned because they drew upon the World Tree's resurgence and nourishment.
The Canopy Circlet that had once adorned Tula's head pulsed with an extraordinary energy, its fluctuations nearly identical to the World Tree's own essence.
Though the exact mechanism remained unclear, Roland surmised that Tula had used the mysterious circlet to forcibly siphon or block the spellcasting authority granted by the World Tree to all surface elves, concentrating it within himself.
This explained how he had possessed the ability to cast spells and so rapidly mobilize such a vast amount of mana.
When Tula's avatar was destroyed, the circlet's power vanished, the suppressed channels reopened, and the surface elves naturally restored their connection to the magical network.
Having untangled these connections in his mind, Roland found himself standing before the modest wooden cottage where Duerden resided, nestled against a massive, gnarled root.
The wooden door swung open silently. Duerden stood in the doorway, bowing respectfully to Roland as usual before stepping aside to usher him inside.
"Good day, Mr. Rudolph," Duerden's voice was raspy yet calm. "If you are ready, shall we continue yesterday's lesson?"
Roland nodded slightly and took his customary seat.
Duerden, like an erudite and infinitely patient mentor, began a systematic explanation of the fundamental principles of spellcasting architecture, detailing the runic structures and energy channeling methods of the low-circle spells he had mastered.
Indeed, though Roland had spent the past three months primarily recuperating, witnessing Corellon's transcendent power had reignited his ambition to grow stronger—especially his long-held desire to master a systematic body of magical knowledge.
The reality, however, was that the drow had only recently regained their spellcasting abilities. What Duerden could teach was currently limited to a few low-circle spells.
Though Roland had learned most of them, aided by his exceptional comprehension and the Job Panel, their raw power remained severely limited.
In the high-intensity, fast-paced melee combat he excelled in, hastily casting these low-level spells would not only fail to provide effective support or damage but could even disrupt his own fluid fighting rhythm due to the casting gestures and focus required.
Yet, Roland felt no disappointment.
He knew that certain spells could produce unexpectedly profound effects in specific situations.
For instance, Corellon had once used a spell that turned solid ground into a muddy trap.
If used cleverly, its tactical value far outweighed sheer destructive power.
Therefore, although these low-level spells seemed to offer a negligible boost to his immediate combat strength, Roland still studied them with utmost seriousness.
"...The key is the instantaneous stabilization of the energy rune and the precise projection of mental power, like this."
As Duerden explained, he traced a simple rune in the air with his finger.
Roland calmed his mind, channeled the meager mana within his body as instructed, and concentrated his spirit.
After a brief moment, a faint glow emanated from his fingertips, which traced the same rune in the air—slowly, yet with remarkable stability.
An instant later, a perfectly formed, evenly glowing sphere of light materialized before his fingertips. It successfully activated and drifted slowly through the room, guided by his will.
"Yes, yes! That's exactly right!"
Duerden watched the stably formed sphere of light, his crimson eyes shining with undisguised approval. "Your precision in mana control is truly astonishing."
At that moment, a familiar line of golden text appeared at the edge of Roland's vision:
[Dancing Lights spell mastered: Current Level: Lv.1]
After the golden text faded, Duerden continued to explain the construction of spell models and the techniques of mana micromanagement in a clear and accessible manner. Roland listened intently, occasionally asking a few pointed questions.
It wasn't until the faint aroma of roasted fungi and subterranean root vegetables wafted in from outside that he realized it was already noon.
Roland rose and took his leave. Before departing, he mentioned his plan to visit a nearby troglodyte camp and requested a guide who knew the way.
Duerden naturally had no objections and immediately agreed.
After a quick lunch, Roland left the camp, accompanied by a taciturn drow scout who had been assigned to lead him. They set off at a brisk pace toward their destination.
Contrary to his expectations, the Underdark was not composed entirely of narrow tunnels; there were also vast underground passages.
The only thing truly different from the surface was the eternal gloom. Faint light, provided only by scattered patches of luminescent moss and fungi on the rock walls, created a suffocating and mysterious atmosphere.
Avril's intelligence had been accurate; this troglodyte settlement was not far from the Drow Camp.
After less than half a day's journey, Roland's keen senses picked up the scent of filth and savagery carried by the wind from ahead.
He signaled for the drow guide to wait and rest in a safe area on the outskirts. Then, he crouched low, suppressing his presence to the absolute limit. Like a leopard merging with the shadows, he crept forward in silence.
For Roland, whose power far surpassed that of ordinary mortals, the rest was so simple it was almost tedious.
Using the shadows of the rocks, the crevices in the ground, and the troglodytes' own lax and sloppy vigilance, he moved like an invisible reaper along the camp's perimeter.
With each brief pause, he precisely ended the muddled life of a troglodyte.
They fell lifeless before they could even utter a single warning.
When he silently slit the rough throat of the last troglodyte, who had been dozing in a corner, the once-bustling camp had fallen into complete silence.
Roland let out a long breath, his tense muscles finally relaxing slightly.
Surveying the cleared camp, Roland's gaze swept over the crude shacks built from rough-hewn stakes. More disturbing were the various creature remains—dried or half-dried—hanging from the eaves and stalactites. Among them, he could discern the forms of small subterranean creatures, and even... the blurred outlines of humanoid beings.
A flicker of doubt crossed his mind.
These troglodytes... don't seem to be as "timid, greedy, and harmless" as Avril described.
Shaking his head to dismiss the troubling thoughts, Roland extended his senses once more. He scanned the entire camp thoroughly, and only after confirming there were no survivors left did he sit down on a relatively clean rock, far from the corpses.
With a thought, he summoned the familiar translucent panel.
Job: [Rogue]
(End of the Chapter)
---------------------------
📖 You are reading [252] Chapters behind with [98] Free Chapters available on site.
🔥 Read up to Chapter [672] now, only on ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴛʟ.ᴄᴏᴍ.
📚 Read upto [14,100+] Chapters on Site with [10,900+] Free Chapters!
---------------------------