I Am Not A Goblin Slayer-Chapter 388 - 242: Profession Level: 4

The Hunters began their hunting, while the medicine gatherers and miners started their own labors.

In the camp, several idle adventurers were discussing the lingering black smoke from a few days ago.

"I didn’t expect that young man to really do it."

"I heard Miller sent someone to check it out, that kid is ruthless."

"He went straight to the goblin’s lair, and the fire burned all day without letting a single goblin escape."

"The cave turned into a furnace."

"Young and promising."

"Why do I feel it wasn’t just one day? I remember it burned for quite a while."

"Feels like he’s been away for many days, hasn’t returned, perhaps finishing the cleanup."

In the corner, a new bard silently recorded with his pen.

"The Helron Mountains, adventurer Gauss, set goblin nests ablaze for days and nights, turning the mountains into a furnace, thousands of goblins turned to ashes, none survived."

"The flames endured, black smoke pillars like ominous towers, even at night, the mountain’s silhouette was etched in the fiery glow from the earth, goblins’ eerie wailing pierced through, chilling to the bone."

"To this day, the ground remains as hot as an anvil, stones turned to glaze, nothing grows, all beasts avoid it. People now call that mountain area ’Gauss’ Furnace.’

"..."

The bard, Matt, wrote the last sentence and paused.

Looking at the words on paper, he pondered for a moment.

Alright, he had to admit, there were slight embellishments in there.

But the main content was accurate... right?

Whatever, who cares?

No one would, and no one knew how many goblins specifically died.

The thousands of goblins were a figment of his imagination, initially he planned to write tens of thousands, but considering Gauss’s adventurer rank, it lacked credibility, so he silently edited it down.

While he was bent over writing, suddenly a commotion came from afar.

He looked towards the direction of the crowd.

A handsome young man was walking slowly through the camp gates.

The afternoon sun poured down behind him, gilding him with a golden edge, making it hard to see his face clearly, his silhouette standing out nobly and exceptionally in the halo.

Matt, the bard, had heard before that light possessed divinity.

He could never comprehend it.

But until the sudden scene in front of him, he finally felt the meaning of those words.

The light cast upon this man seemed indeed to possess an inexplicable divinity.

He wore a Mage’s black robe, showing signs of wear despite its clean, not luxurious, yet exuding a calm and composed demeanor.

On both sides, the militia of the Lawrence Camp instinctively stood aside, their gazes following him, eyes mixed with curiosity, awe, even a trace of subtle tension, silently escorting him.

The bard squinted, trying hard to see the distant figure’s appearance.

As the young man walked closer, out from the glare of the sunlight, the bard finally saw clearly.

It was indeed an exceedingly handsome face, with a high nose bridge and distinct jawline. But the most striking were his eyes.

They were... golden eyes.

Not the flamboyant gold favored by the nobles, dyed with magic potions, but a deeper, restrained hue, with a peculiar eye color as if molten gold flowed within, if carefully looked at, a slit pupil could almost be seen.

When Matt caught his glance, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear, as if inadvertently observed by a powerful predator.

His pen unconsciously clattered onto the table.

"Mr. Gauss, welcome back."

"Lord Gauss, well done."

...

"So... he is Gauss."

Matt murmured to himself.

His writing earlier, a product of a habitual creative process, knew well he exaggerated.

But with this man named "Gauss" standing there quietly, it was hard not to feel convinced and awed.

Matt, having traveled so many lands and seen many geniuses, had never encountered anyone creating such an impact as Gauss.

He was very certain it wasn’t mere recency effect!

His heart raced uncontrollably.

At the sight of Gauss, a word suddenly popped into his mind.

Dragonling!

Even with a three-star adventurer badge on his chest, even wearing plain clothes, and a fair face without the weather-beaten look of one who’s seen it all, at that moment Matt believed, this young man named Gauss was an emerging dragonling, gathering power, soon to soar into the heavens!

Moreover, he had opened those golden eyes.

Matt took a deep breath, inspiration welling from the depths like a spring.

He did not join the crowd but clumsily grabbed a pen, laid out a new sheet of paper, and began writing continuously.

Perhaps, even a dragonling needs dragon retainers.

Across the crowd, Gauss met his gaze and looked away.

Seeing the surrounding enthusiasm, he again felt the meaning of being an adventurer.

Though here just to fulfill a commission, their efforts genuinely benefited the ordinary folks, providing a safer living environment.

Beside him, a girl accompanying her medicine gatherer father took out a wildflower from her basket, offering it to him.

"Big brother, this is for you."

"Thank you, I like it very much."

Gauss reached out to take the flowers.

Holding them to his nose for a light sniff.

The wildflowers, dewy, exuded a refreshing fragrance.