Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 3 Forced Conscription

Silent all night.

Dawns in Rust Harbour always carry a rusty smell, or more accurately, the night here never truly ends.

The layer of oily smog that never dissipates remains thick and sticky, as if another layer of waste oil has been poured onto the city's shroud.

The flimsy wooden door in the back alley of the Anvil Adventurers' camp was smashed and was on the verge of collapse at this gloomy moment.

"Rhodes! Are you dead or not? If you're not, get the hell out here!"

Inside the room, Rod was stuffing the last piece of dark bread into his mouth.

That was leftover from last night, dried overnight, and as hard as a damn whetstone, scratching my throat raw.

He swallowed hard without expression, wiped the bread crumbs from the corner of his mouth, and slowly moved towards the door.

As soon as the latch was pulled open, three fully armed burly men formed a wall, blocking out the light.

The man at the head of the group, with a face full of scars, trembled violently with each breath; he was none other than Captain Kyle's number one vicious dog—Buck.

"An emergency conscription order signed by the commander." Buck didn't bother with any nonsense. He shoved a piece of parchment, spraying spittle, directly at Rhodes' nose. "Something went wrong at Blacktooth Cave. We urgently need manpower to carry supplies. You're unlucky; this tough job has fallen to you."

Bad luck?

Rhodes sneered inwardly.

This is clearly Kyle, that bastard, feeling he hadn't collected enough protection money yesterday, and trying to squeeze some more out of me, a penniless wretch who's down to nothing.

He took the parchment, glanced at it, and stuffed it into his pocket without a second glance. His originally indifferent face instantly filled with a humble and ingratiating smile.

"Brother Buck, this is so sudden! I haven't prepared anything yet..."

"I'll give you fifteen minutes. Go to the quartermaster and get your supplies yourself." Buck spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the filthy ground, his eyes filled with malice. "If you're even a second late, I'll break your legs and drag you there like a dead pig."

With a bang, the wooden door was slammed shut, sending dust flying everywhere.

As the door closed, the fawning smile on Rod's face vanished instantly.

He turned around quickly, deftly lifted the moldy bed board, reached into the hidden compartment, and pulled out a heavy, coarse cloth bundle.

The cloth bag was unfolded, revealing a boning knife lying quietly inside, its blade gleaming with a sinister blue light in the dim room.

Last night, Rod personally removed the [Rusty (Gray Inferior)] label from the knife.

Now, it only has one fatal attribute left—

[Sharp (Blue Fine)]: It can easily cut through even tanned cowhide.

In this cannibalistic place, not having a decent weapon is tantamount to courting death.

Rod rolled up his trousers, inserted the boning knife into the specially made leather sheath inside the boot shaft, tightened the straps, and jumped lightly twice on the spot.

With the leather and metal fitting perfectly together, and certain that it wouldn't hinder stealth or sudden killings, Rhodes grabbed the military backpack in the corner—enough to carry dozens of kilograms of supplies—casually tossed it onto his back, and strode towards the base's logistics and supply depot.

……

The assembly point was already bustling with people.

Aside from Kyle and a few familiar thugs, Rhodes' gaze lingered for a moment on an incongruous figure.

It was a woman, standing alone at the very edge of the line, as if she had drawn a line between herself and the world around her.

The chainmail she wore was already in a dilapidated state, with many of the key iron rings broken and barely held together by rough iron wire, revealing a desolate and shabby appearance.

The white robe covering him had been stained grayish-brown by the years, and only the faded Griffin crest on his chest could be vaguely discerned.

She carried an exaggeratedly heavy tower shield on her back, and a longsword without a scabbard hung at her waist. She stood there like a silent and hard rock.

Avira Griffin.

Rod recognized her, of course.

Or rather, everyone in Rusty Harbor knew the name of this "fallen knight".

A former noblewoman exiled with unknown crimes, she is as rigid as a block of wood and seems to know nothing about this world except for killing monsters.

None of the people Rhodes had a good impression of Avira. After all, as a descendant of nobility, being exiled meant she would be looked down upon wherever she was.

Although she was quite pretty, ever since the last guy who tried to harass her was easily taken down and had his hand broken, no one has dared to mess with her anymore.

"What are you looking at? That's a meat shield specially made to protect trash like you. Pray she won't gouge out your dishonest dog eyes." Kyle, riding a warhorse covered in scales, looked down at him, brandishing his whip with a mocking expression. "All hands on deck! Destination: Blacktooth Cave."

Black Tooth Cave is located underground in the wilderness 30 kilometers north of Ruins Harbor.

Legend has it that it was a fossilized tooth socket of some giant creature from the previous era, which was formed by crustal movement and created an underground cavity.

Ghouls, black-toothed rats, and all sorts of underworld creatures mutated by the radiation of ancient god power have been lurking there year-round.

For Iron-level adventurers, it was a forbidden zone with a nine-out-of-ten chance of death.

But for Kyle, a Silver-ranked player, that place was just a slightly troublesome backyard—provided someone was there to take the hits for him.

The troops marched in utter silence along the way.

The wasteland surrounding Ruins Harbor is devoid of any scenery; as far as the eye can see, there are only gray rocks and twisted, withered trees, like souls struggling to die.

About four hours later, a pitch-black cave, resembling the gaping maw of a giant monster, appeared before them.

The entrance to the cave was covered with slippery black moss, and the air was filled with a nauseating stench of decay and mold.

"Light the torches." Kyle's voice broke the silence. "Avira, you go first and scout ahead. Buck, you and your men cover the flanks. Rhodes, get to the middle and watch the supplies on your back."

Without uttering a word, Avira silently removed the tower shield from her back, picked up her longsword, and resolutely stepped into the darkness that devoured the light.

The cave was even colder and more damp than the outside, and the chill seemed to seep into your bones through your pores.

The flickering torchlight could barely illuminate a few meters of the surrounding area; beyond that lay an inky blackness.

"Squeak...squeak..."

A series of faint scratching sounds suddenly rang out, converging from all directions.

Inside this enclosed cavity, the sound is amplified through countless refractions, making it sound like thousands of insects are scratching at your eardrums.

"stop."

Avira, who was walking at the front, suddenly stopped and slammed her tower shield heavily onto the ground with a dull thud.

There's something ahead.

Before she finished speaking, dozens of small, scarlet eyes suddenly lit up in the depths of darkness, flickering like will-o'-the-wisps.

"It's a swarm of black-toothed rats! Damn it, how can there be so many!" Buck exclaimed, instinctively shrinking his neck back.

The Black-toothed Rat is as large as a cat, with a mouthful of venomous black teeth. What's most terrifying is that they never appear alone; once they do, they form a black wave.

"Everyone back five steps! Ivy, hold on!" Kyle's voice came from the middle of the group, his tone almost cold.

He had no intention of drawing his sword; he simply directed the crowd to keep a safe distance, leaving the female knight to face the approaching black torrent alone.

Avira didn't turn around, nor did she utter a single complaint.

She stepped forward with her left foot, her body slightly lowered, and she crouched behind the tower shield, her longsword steadily resting on the gap in the shield.

The next second, the black wave crashed violently against the steel reef.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The dull thuds of impact echoed one after another, sending chills down one's spine.

A dozen or so black-toothed rats frantically rammed and scratched at the shield, their sharp fangs scraping against the metal surface, creating teeth-grinding sparks.

Several even tried to use their jumping ability to leap over the shield and rush straight at her face.

Rhodes huddled at the back of the group, clutching a camouflage shovel tightly in his hand.

At this distance, Avira was no longer the down-on-her-luck woman he saw, but rather a cluster of luminous information.

【Avira Griffin】

Condition: Mild fatigue

Entry:

[Guardian Knight (Blue Excellent)]: Shield block range slightly increased, frontal physical/magical damage slightly reduced.

[Unwavering Will (Blue Excellent)]: Before stamina is depleted, the block stun time is halved. When exhausted, stamina consumption rate is reduced, and recovery rate is greatly increased.

[Griffin Family Bloodline (Sealed)]: ? ? ?

……

As expected, he is an excellent front-line tank.

Rhodes narrowed his eyes, a glint of light flashing deep within his pupils.

In Avira's hands, that tattered tower shield seemed to transform into an insurmountable wall of sighs, remaining unmoved no matter how the rat horde charged.

Occasionally, a fish that slipped through the net would dart around to the side and bite her tattered chainmail, causing her body to tremble slightly before the longsword cleanly pierced her throat.

This advantage wasn't from the equipment; it was purely due to top-tier combat skills and the boost from those two blue attributes.

Such a talent, born for the battlefield, was used as disposable material by a fool like Kyle.

It's such a waste.