Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

“You say that again?!”

Lance grabbed the collar of the adventurer in front of him, his tone filled with disbelief.

Just hearing the first piece of information from this man had already shocked him.

The adventurer was startled by Lance’s sudden movement. His body swayed uncontrollably, nearly collapsing.

Through the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, Lance finally saw the man’s miserable condition clearly.

The man’s equipment was clearly far superior to Lance’s patchwork gear. On his chest had originally been a finely crafted chainmail reinforced with iron plating, but now it looked as though it had been smashed in by some massive blunt weapon, leaving a deep dent. Several iron rings had snapped and were embedded into his flesh.

Although the wound had been crudely bandaged, blood still seeped out, staining half his body red. With his rapid breathing, the smell of blood was overwhelming.

Shouted at by Lance, the man’s previously unfocused pupils regained a bit of clarity.

“You… you’re the senior who was with Damian this morning?”