Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

Beneath the same brilliant starry sky,

a few hours earlier, while Lance was still sweating profusely in the yard, there were others who had yet to fall asleep.

Inside White Oak Manor, in a luxurious double suite on the second floor.

Soft magical crystal light filled the entire room.

Cecilia sat upright at the desk, the feather pen in her hand scratching softly across the parchment.

In front of her, the terrain sketch of Stone Crab Shoals was already more than half complete, and beside it were densely packed observation notes on monster behavior.

The coarse cloak that had been covered in mud during the day had already been carefully cleaned with Cleanse, and now hung neatly on the coat rack by the door.

She herself had changed into comfortable sleepwear.

It was a pure white silk nightdress, with delicate lace trimming the collar and cuffs. The hem draped softly onto the carpet, appearing exceptionally smooth and gentle.