“In the end, all I’ve given to Father is just a drop of blood, isn’t it?”
“No, your blood has been incredibly helpful to me. So hold your head high, Damian.”
“The next time you visit the temple… I’ll prepare an even greater gift than today, Father.”
Even until the final moments when I exited the sanctuary, Damian seemed reluctant to let go.
Did he assume my comment about being helpful was just a consideration to make him feel better?
Damian kept emphasizing that he’d prepare something better for the next time we met.
So, I found his persistently apologetic attitude both touching and frustrating.
Authority of Growth
The talk of being helpful wasn’t just consideration—it was 200% genuine.
The Authority of Growth is, as the name suggests, a broken trait that exponentially increases the owner’s combat power.
- Status attributes are unified under ‘Rank.’
- ‘Rank’ increases all status performance threefold and enhances growth by threefold.
I can’t believe I’ve gotten this already. Insane.
‘Rank’ contains all attributes like strength, agility, and stamina.
Not only that, but as the system explains, its performance is vastly superior.
Compared to a user of the same level, someone with the Authority of Growth is three times stronger.
And with a growth rate increased by 300%, the gap with someone without it would only grow wider.
What could be a better gift than this? Damian Abel, you infuriatingly sincere fool.
This was originally a lucky opportunity only available in the later stages of the game.
Damian, upon reaching the verge of becoming a Sword Master, earns the Authority of Growth as a reward for completing a task for a top-tier constellation.
But I obtained it just by draining a single drop of Damian’s blood.
Though, of course, enduring the excruciating pain while absorbing his vitality wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.
Compared to the task Damian had to handle in the game, this was SSS-tier cost efficiency.
Look at this:
[You have defeated a ‘Night Troll!’]
[Your level has increased!]
[Your level has…]
A Night Troll, which would normally require at least level 15 to take down, was something I had just effortlessly defeated.
Killing something far above my level had resulted in gaining two levels at once.
Even I was astonished by the result.
“H-Hiiik…”
Let alone this guy, who had nearly lost his life.
I reached out my hand to the middle-aged adventurer who still looked dazed and asked:
“Are you alright?”
“Y-Yes…”
Even as he hesitantly grabbed my hand and got up, his soul seemed half out of his body.
I couldn’t blame him. If I saw some pale stranger twist off a troll’s massive head in one motion, I’d be stunned too.
The adventurer, who had been looking at me like I was an even bigger monster than the troll, finally snapped out of it and bowed deeply.
“Thanks to you, my lord, I managed to save my life. My name is Hans. May I know your name, my lord?”
“Ruth.”
“Ah, yes, Ruth…! If you hadn’t saved me, I’d have surely perished alongside my companions over there. And, um, this is…”
Hans hastily rummaged through his belongings and pulled out a pouch of coins.
“This is all I have saved from my time as an adventurer. Please accept it—it’s meager, but it’s the least I can offer.”
“If you give me your entire savings, what will you do in the future?”
“Well, I suppose I’ll return to my hometown and help my father with his farm work.”
“Are you saying you’re quitting adventuring?”
“Yes, I’ve grown weary of this aimless wandering, and after what happened today, I’ve made up my mind.”
So he was already at his limit, and this incident pushed him to a decision.
With him declaring his retirement from adventuring first, things became much easier.
“…”
I shifted my gaze from the money pouch to the badge pinned to Hans’ armor.
On his left chest was a bronze badge, shaped like an insignia.
The adventurer’s badge, divided into gold, silver, and bronze, represents rank.
However, not everyone who declares themselves an adventurer automatically receives one from the guild.
Even the lowest bronze badge requires a certain level of skill and achievement to earn.
In other words, obtaining a bronze badge involves a tedious process.
At least, through conventional methods.
“I don’t need your money.”
“What? Oh… Please don’t worry about it. Accepting this will ease my conscience.”
“No, I mean it. I don’t want money—I’d prefer a different kind of compensation.”
“Is that so?”
Perhaps thinking I was offering a favor without asking for anything in return, Hans scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
It’s not like I was strapped for cash, either. The gold I’d extracted from the cathedral’s treasury yesterday would last me half a year without lifting a finger.
“Well, then, what should I…”
Before Hans could finish his sentence, I pointed at the badge on his chest.
“If you’re retiring from adventuring, you won’t need the badge anymore, will you?”
“Oh, um, yes… I suppose so.”
“Then I’ll take that as payment. Use this money as allowance for your farm work.”
The first step in my plan to resolve the penalties for draining vitality was:
The Predator’s Labyrinth
To conquer this place.
According to imperial regulations, only adventurers ranked bronze or higher are permitted entry into the Predator’s Labyrinth.
I went to the “Tailve Forest” right after leaving the Temple.
It wasn’t just to test how much stronger I had grown through the <Authority of Growth>. The primary reason was to confirm whether the <Predator’s Labyrinth> still existed in the exact location I knew.
It did exist.
Somewhere in the eastern part of the “Tailve Forest,” nestled between rocky cracks.
When I checked the spot, thankfully, it was there—a stone gate marking the labyrinth’s entrance.
However, there was something else, an unexpected factor.
A barrier.
A barrier at the entrance of a labyrinth or ruin meant one thing—that somebody has already claimed it.
When a labyrinth has a claimant, priests dispatched by the Church preemptively erect barriers around its entrance.
It’s a type of warning:
Unless you are a party with the rightful claim, you cannot step into this labyrinth.
I could destroy the barrier using ‘that skill’ under the <Blood Link Skill>, but…
Doing so would leave traces.
The moment you tamper with a barrier, it transmits something akin to a magical code or personal details to the priest in real-time.
Snatching away a labyrinth that someone else holds the rights to is a severe crime.
While I didn’t particularly care about any moral guilt, I had no intention of becoming a fugitive from the start.
Guess I have no choice.
Still, I could take comfort in knowing the labyrinth hadn’t been cleared yet.
To obtain “that item” necessary to resolve my penalty, I must gain access to the <Predator’s Labyrinth>, no matter what.
Even if it means enduring some humiliation.
With a click, my steps led me to a tavern in .
Inside, travelers and adventurers chattered loudly around tables laden with food and drink, while a musician played piano in a corner of the room.
The scene of revelry greeted me as I pushed through the swinging doors. Calmly, I scanned the room for a particular figure.
Before long, I spotted her.
There she is.
A large, red-haired woman, with a scar running down her cheek and a build rivaling an ox’s.
Glenda, leader of the Glenda Adventurer Party.
According to the records at the adventurer’s guild, she was the one who had purchased the rights to clear the labyrinth.
By offering a bribe on top of the usual fee, I managed to get a tavern worker to disclose additional details about her—things like the planned clearing date and her routine of partying here every night with her comrades.
Having confirmed her identity, I approached the bartender.
Moments later:
“Leader, aren’t you drinking a bit too much? Tomorrow’s the clearing day.”
“Hah! Pete, you worry too much for your own good. Do you think this Glenda would let something as trivial as a hangover stop her from dealing with some damn monsters?”
Clink.
A sudden sound interrupted Glenda’s words as a whiskey glass slid onto the table in front of her.
It was the drink I had offered.
“Surely, with someone of Glenda’s caliber, a few more drinks wouldn’t hurt,” I said smoothly.
“Huh…?”
Glenda looked up at me, puzzled.
She scanned me from head to toe, scratched her cheek, and asked, “Uh, kid… do we know each other?”
“No, this is our first meeting. And the drink is my treat.”
“You’re buying me a drink out of nowhere? What, is my name already that famous in the big cities? No, that’s unlikely…”
The relaxed atmosphere shifted abruptly as Glenda’s demeanor grew sharp.
Her comrades, seated around her, all turned their wary gazes toward me.
It was only natural for them to be suspicious—after all, an unknown stranger had just mentioned their leader’s name without preamble.
Before their suspicions could deepen further, I got straight to the point.
“I heard you’re planning to clear the <Predator’s Labyrinth>.”
“And where did you hear that from…?”
“I’d like to join your expedition.”
Silence fell the moment I finished speaking.
Then…
Snicker.
The adventurers began chuckling, one by one, before breaking into open laughter.
Glenda, staring at me in disbelief, eventually burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.
“Pfft! And here I thought you might be someone impressive—turns out you’re just a clueless brat. Kid, do you even hear yourself?”
“…”
“You said it yourself—we’ve never met before. What on earth would make us trust a total stranger to join us in clearing a labyrinth? Honestly, if you thought a glass of whiskey could buy you in, you’d better run back to your mama—”
Glenda stopped mid-sentence.
The cause?
Jingle. Jingle.
The faint chime of gold coins as I placed a pile of them on the table.
A total of 50 gold.
Enough to change the expressions of even low-tier adventurers.
“I understand my request is unreasonable. Please consider this a gesture of sincerity.”
“S-Sincerity…?”
“Yes. All I ask in exchange for this money is to join the labyrinth expedition. You’re free to distribute the clearing rewards as you see fit, Glenda.”
The reward was meaningless to me. Compared to the value of “that item” I intended to obtain, it might as well have been pocket change.
Of course, I avoided saying as much—better to keep suspicions low.
“…”
The golden gleam illuminated Glenda and her comrades’ faces.
Several of them swallowed hard, visibly tempted.
Fifty gold was worth more than the rewards from clearing several labyrinths combined.
It was an offer too good to resist.
Yet—
“Damn it… I almost fell for it.” Glenda shut her eyes tight and slapped her own cheeks before looking back at me.
“A kid with this much money… you must be some rich young master playing at being an adventurer. Let me give you a piece of advice: life is worth more than gold.”
“…”
“Whether it’s fifty gold or five hundred, it’s useless if you’re dead. No one wants to die in a labyrinth because they dragged dead weight along.”
In short, she wasn’t willing to bring someone untested into her team.
Her gaze shifted to the badge pinned on my chest—a bronze adventurer’s badge.
“To be honest, I’m even suspicious of that badge. You probably bought it or got it through some shady means.”
She wasn’t wrong.
But I didn’t flinch, keeping a composed expression.
“I earned this badge with my own skills.”
“Really? Then explain why your hands are so soft and why I can’t sense a shred of magic from you. Do we look drunk and stupid enough to believe that?”
Glenda downed her whiskey in one go and pushed the pile of gold back toward me. She waved her hand dismissively.
“I’ll let this slide because of the drink. Now scram, kid.”
“At the very least,” I interrupted, ignoring her growing irritation, “if I could prove I took down a Night Troll alone, would that satisfy you?”
A heavy silence fell over the tavern.
Then—
“Pfft! Hahaha! Did you hear that? He says he killed a Night Troll by himself!”
“Not even a team of three silver-ranked adventurers could handle a Night Troll, and this scrawny kid did it solo? Go fatten up before trying that line, twig!”
“You’ve got guts to spout such nonsense with a straight face, kid.”
The room exploded with laughter and jeers.
However, Glenda and her team’s expressions darkened with irritation.
“Kid, you’re really trying my patience—”
“Enough, leader. Brats like this need a good beating to learn their place,” said Pete, the muscular man seated opposite Glenda, as he rose to his feet.
Pete’s massive frame rivaled hers in size, making him an imposing sight.
“If you want to join us, prove it. Not with words, but with your skills.”
“…”
“Come outside, you cocky little punk.”
He grabbed my collar roughly, ready to drag me outside if I didn’t comply.
Now this is annoying.
I grabbed his wrist in return.
And then—
Crunch.
“…?!”
With just a squeeze of my hand, Pete collapsed to the floor, drooling as if he’d forgotten how to stand.
