Chương 390: Chapter 379 - Gregor McCarther

So he did recognise it. Alonso had gambled on that possibility. Dungeon items seemed to come from a limited drop pool, so someone experienced might know about the blade's origin. Even so, he had not held much hope. He wondered whether the natives of this world had some way of viewing item prompts, or if everything relied on visual recognition and accumulated knowledge. Worth finding out later. Footsteps sounded. The clerk returned with a more mature man behind him.

The newcomer carried a half-grey beard, heavy eyes, and an air of quiet authority. Alonso's attention drifted to the man's armour. The plates were shaped cleanly and reinforced with unfamiliar patterns. Definitely above Grade 2, though he could not tell by how much. He could not see prompts on gear worn by others. The man's gaze lingered on Alonso's blade before lifting to meet his eye. There was a weight behind it. A pressure that hinted at experience and skill. Someone Alonso was not certain he could take on.

And… a Will user, like him. Also— Gregor McCarther Stage 1 – 45. 732% Such a high SP.

"Care for a private talk?" the man said after a measured pause. Alonso nodded." I will be exploring the town with the others, waiting for the good news," Lukas transmitted with an easy grin. Alonso gave him a brief nod before they parted ways. He followed Gregor past the counter and through a plain wooden door. A narrow staircase led them to the second floor. The Guild Master pushed open another door, revealing a wide office overlooking the town from a small balcony at the back. The room was tidy but lived-in.

A large wooden desk faced the balcony, covered with rolled maps, ink pots, contract sheets and a few strange stone markers that pulsed faintly with stored EM readings. A rack of weapons rested along the left wall, each one used and well maintained. A thick rug lay underfoot, muffling their steps, while two chairs waited opposite the desk.

"Take a seat," Gregor said as he settled behind his desk, posture calm but attentive.

"My name is Gregor McCarther. I am the Guild Master of Riviera's Adventurer Guild branch," he said.

"And you might be?"

"Alonso."

"Just… Alonso?" He hesitated. He was not sure how common his surname would sound here. Most of his family was Spanish, but his great-grandfather had migrated from the UK, so the name itself would not stand out too much… hopefully.

"Alonso Shemson." Gregor repeated the name under his breath, felt its shape for a moment, then let it drift.

"So, may I ask what brings someone of your talents this far west?"

"I would prefer to keep the motives to myself," Alonso said. He kept his gaze steady. Something told him that lying here would be foolish.

"Fair enough," Gregor said with a short chuckle.

"We all have our secrets. Let us hope yours are the quiet sort." There was a flicker in his eyes, a weighing of possibilities, as if he were trying to read further than what Alonso allowed him to see. Alonso, however, stayed still, calm beneath the pressure of Gregor's probing gaze, which carried a faint thread of Will within it.

"I am guessing you want a fresh start under the Guild's name. Smart choice. Just remember this. We do not shield every member from the consequences of their own stupidity and personal affairs. Protection is earned. Merit buys you the right to be defended." Alonso nodded. He could guess where Gregor's thoughts were drifting. The notion of him hiding from someone was amusing. Let them think whatever made their world easier. Gregor tapped a finger on the desk, the motion steady and rhythmic.

"Right then, Mr Shemson. On to business. I can tell you have completed the greatest and most secret challenge our little Dungeon hides. I have no idea how you learned how to trigger it, but beating Jack is no simple feat. That alone should put you at Silver-rank strength." Secret challenge? So the Golden Goose and Jack were not common knowledge after all. Interesting.

"However," Gregor went on, "issuing a Silver rank is not something I hand out on a lazy afternoon. In fact, aside from myself and Alan at Gold-rank, it is the highest rank we have working around these parts." He leaned forward, grin widening into something halfway between amusement and challenge.

"So I will give you two choices. One, I issue you an Iron-rank token right now, no strings attached. Two, I test you myself. If you pass, not only do you get a Silver token, but I will waive the 75 Silvermark fee. What do you say?" 75 Silvermarks!? The hell. Even if they cleared the Dungeon ten more times, they would not reach that figure! But Gregor's tone carried no deception. Alonso knew the manual was serious about rank increases. Fees multiplied with every tier.

A person capable of wielding higher-grade items was expected to afford it, and the Guild relied on those fees to run. Choice, though? There was never really one.

"Alright," Alonso said.

"What's this test about?" Gregor's smile broadened.

"Well, just a friendly little spar with this ol' man. Easy, right?" Easy, sure… Still, Alonso felt his own smile forming. The moment he had sensed the man's strong presence, he had wanted to test himself against him.

"Let's have it then." This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Fantastic," Gregor laughed.

"Love that glint in your eyes. Good. Good." He rose to his feet and rolled his neck, a loud crack echoing through the office.

"Follow me, lad. Best not tear this place apart." Gregor stepped onto the balcony rail and pushed off with a light hop. His body rose smoothly, carried by a subtle shaping of Will, and he drifted above the rooftops without disturbing a single tile. He crossed the town in a steady arc, clearing the last chimney before angling higher toward the open fields beyond. Alonso watched the movement with interest. It felt less like EM manipulation and more akin to the beastmen's Way of the World. Will woven through motion.

A body guided by an internal map of balance with the surroundings. So Gregor followed the Body Path. Noted. Alonso vaulted from the balcony. EM waves gathered in his internal micro-capacitors, shaping into a soft lift that sent him gliding upward. He masked himself with Path of Shards, blurring his presence so the villagers below would not sense him streaking across their sky. He tailed Gregor from a respectful distance as they crossed above the fields surrounding the town and slipped into the open countryside.

After several kilometres, the Guild Master dipped lower toward a clearing carved deep into the terrain. They arrived at a vast circular arena, flattened earth packed hard by countless clashes. Scars ran through the ground like old memories, long cracks, cratered marks, and half-buried stones shaped by impact. Whatever happened here was not small. Nor casual. Gregor stopped near the centre of the clearing. He turned with a grin that carried both welcome and confidence.

"Right then," he said as he set his feet.

"Show me what you got, young man." Alonso felt it immediately. A pressure radiated from the Guild Master, pushing down on the world around him. It struck his body like a sudden spike in gravity, urging everything in him to bow. Behind Gregor, something took shape. At first it looked like a smooth mirror-like shield, then its outline stretched and sharpened into the form of a two-handed sword.

A massive energy-figure more than a metre wide and two metres tall hovered behind the man, as if its weight alone might crush the earth beneath it. A weapon-shaped manifestation. The suppression did not blur Gregor's figure as Ayu's Primal Flow did. Quite the opposite. It pulled the world's attention toward him as though gravity itself had a component in his direction. Alonso watched in amazement. This world… how many variations of Will did it hold? He had no measure of the man's full strength.

The Tower did not display Power Indexes for natives. But he suspected Gregor should be stronger than Jack. Otherwise, why would he be so confident knowing his feat? Still, Alonso had grown as well. His Stage Progress. His titles. His gear. His understanding of himself. All had improved after the fight against Jack. He stepped forward. His blades rose as the pressure on him thickened. The energy in his capacitors flared, attuning to his breath and emotion.

Behind him, the human-shaped void sharpened, its presence bending the space around it. Will Manifest Power surged through him. His body and mind grew sharper, feeding on the form. With two titles boosting his Will by 15% and the recent improvement in the skill's progression, if there was one thing he was confident on, it was this. He caught a flicker of confusion on Gregor's face as the Guild Master took in the change, but the man dismissed it quickly and smiled again.

"Alright, lad." Gregor drew a large two-handed, double-edged sword from his back. Its guard was plain and wide, and the blade itself carried an almost absurd width of thirty centimetres. He lifted it into position, and the simple motion sent a faint aftershock rippling through the clearing.

"Feel free to come at me. I am giving you the first strike free of charge." Alonso stayed calm, studying the stance. The physical blade matched the projection behind Gregor almost exactly. That was no coincidence. Then there was the suppression. The subtle pull toward him. The way the air bent around the man's presence. Everything pointed toward a style built on Will and physical dominance. And given that Gregor was clearly a Body Path practitioner, this was a nightmare matchup.

The offensive edge of Path of Shards would be useless. He had thought long about this weakness of his style in the waiting room. Opponents who did not rely on waves, who fought with raw physical force, were the hardest for him to deal with. But a lack of advantage did not mean he was helpless. He took a steady breath and narrowed the spread of Path of Shards. Instead of affecting the world around him, he focused it inward, using it to increase the conductivity of his capacitors to the limits.

His new weapon affixes amplified that effect, making his body more responsive to instant wave acceleration. Next, he pushed into Dual Overdrive. It helped very little compared to before, but it still lifted his reaction speed by more than 12%. Against this sort of opponent, all his field control and EM dominance would be useless. Better to sacrifice them and pour everything into boosting himself to the limits. As he steadied his stance, he locked eyes with the Guild Master. An instant later— He vanished. CLANG!

His blades struck from Gregor's blind spot, masked presence and momentum aligned, but the man reacted as if he had seen the attack before it came. His stance shifted, sword rising in a single smooth motion, catching both blades with precision. The recoil jolted straight down Alonso's arms—like striking a wall—but he used the momentum to retreat, sensing the intent of a counterstrike. It never came. He skidded to a halt several meters away, eyes narrowing. This Gregor… was not simple.

He had read the attack, responded with the best move, and even projected false intent without following through. If Alonso compared him to the realms he had made up for himself… this old man had reached the Realm of Enemy as Self, the Realm of Intent, and quite possibly the Understanding of Self as well. Not just force. True mastery of its use.

"Well, lad, that's it for your free strike," Gregor called, raising his blade with calm amusement.

"Now. How about you take one of mine?" He moved before the words finished leaving his mouth. The heavy two-handed sword swung downward—but they were still five meters apart. Gregor's physical reach was barely over two. What was—? Then Alonso felt it. Will compressed along the blade in a razor-thin line, pulling the air inward as though the sword were carving the world itself ahead of time. You have to be kidding me… Alonso's eyes widened.

He pushed EM acceleration to its limit and threw himself sideways, following the projected vector he had calculated— And sure enough— BOOM! A devastating slash of Will and air ripped through the clearing, carving a deep trench where he had stood moments before. The force continued on, cleaving a distant tree clean in half before dissipating. Alonso's heart clenched. So Will could be used like that? A strike that completely ignored a weapon's physical range… A ranged cut born purely of Will and momentum.

He looked back toward Gregor just as the man rested the enormous sword on his shoulder, grinning wide.

"Well, lad, you were supposed to take that on. What happened?" Alonso nearly cursed. Yeah. Right. But despite the danger, despite the overwhelming strength, a flicker of excitement coursed through him. He could learn a lot from this man. This pressure… this was exactly what he wanted.

"I never said I would," Alonso replied.

"But feel free to try and hit me… if you can." Gregor levelled his blade toward him.

"Well said, Mr Shemson. No more welcome hits. Let's get this spar started."