Gauss stepped out of the blacksmith's shop with a spring in his step. This trip had been incredibly fruitful—not only had he gained valuable knowledge about professionals, but his previously empty purse had also grown substantially. After selling the pile of cleavers and daggers he'd collected as spoils, his savings now totaled 31 silver coins and 12 copper coins.
It should have been 41 silver and 12 copper, but the missing 10 silver was because he'd spotted a rapier before leaving. Considering his current weapons were badly damaged from the fierce battle near Birch Village, he needed new armaments for self-defense. Following the famous "since we're already here" principle, he gritted his teeth and splurged, spending a "fortune" to outright purchase that well-maintained single-handed rapier.
Ten silver coins—while a significant expense for Gauss—was actually an extremely cheap price for a long weapon. The low cost stemmed from the rapier's design requiring far less iron ingots compared to ordinary broadswords or greatswords, keeping production costs and thus prices relatively low. The shopkeeper had likely given him a friendly discount too, allowing the final price to settle at 10 silver.
This weapon had been his choice after testing several options, as it could still utilize the thrusting attack style of his spear while being more maneuverable when paired with his wooden shield and accelerated thinking ability. It just required practice.
Grasping the rapier, Gauss examined it closely, growing fonder the more he looked. The blade was straight and slender, standing proud with elegant sharpness—about one meter long with a width of approximately 3 cm, less than two fingers' breadth. A raised rigid ridge ran along its length, reflecting a silvery metallic sheen, while the triangular tip gleamed coldly. The hilt was wrapped in leather, and though the guard's design wasn't elaborate, it added a minimalist beauty.
Holding the sword before him, his satisfied emerald eyes reflected in its mirror-like surface.
Rapiers had both advantages and disadvantages compared to ordinary broadswords—he'd deliberated carefully before purchasing. Broadswords were more versatile, suitable against varied opponents, and possessed armor-piercing capabilities; some greatswords could even smash through chainmail joints. But they were too heavy, demanding considerable strength and stamina from their wielders.
Though Gauss's constitution had reached 6 points, his strength remained at a mediocre 5. Prolonged use of overly heavy weapons would strain his body. Additionally, broadswords performed poorly in confined spaces. For the foreseeable future, his enemies would likely be low-tier monsters. And what common trait did such creatures share?
Their individual combat prowess was weak, so they naturally preferred grouping together. Unless hunting, they usually clustered in their lairs. In such scenarios, greatswords were clearly unsuitable.
Thus, for a spellcaster like him, a rapier sufficed for self-defense. Ideally, he'd find opportunities later to learn proper swordsmanship. Though creatures like goblins lacked weapon skills—he could probably outmaneuver them through improvisation—he wouldn't be fighting goblins forever. Sooner or later, he'd face more formidable foes. Even among goblins existed stronger variants like hobgoblins and two-headed goblins.
As for why he'd bother with swordsmanship while pursuing the mage profession? The reason was simple: close-combat skills might not always be needed, but their absence was unacceptable. He refused to be helpless if enemies closed in, completely at their mercy. Especially after his last battle, he'd grown more determined to eliminate glaring weaknesses.
Real combat was unpredictable—one never knew what might happen next—so having some melee capability was essential. If enemies thought mages were soft targets in close quarters, he'd give them a painful lesson with his blade. Let them learn that a mage's sword could indeed cut deep!
With the spoils dealt with, his adventure commission was temporarily concluded. Gauss decided to take several days off while practicing his newly learned Magic Missile spell.
"Ah, this feels wonderful."
Emerging from the hot baths, Gauss squinted contentedly. Days of tense muscles seemed to melt under the soothing thermal waters, his fatigue vanishing entirely.
"Five coppers for the bath."
Small change. With his improved finances, Gauss spent more freely. Money was meant for enjoyment—no need to scrimp five coppers and endure miserably washing with cold water from a bucket after arduous travels.
"Hey, have I grown taller?"
Changing into his everyday linen clothes, he noticed his top had become slightly short, now exposing his waist where it once fit perfectly. Was this from his constitution increase?
This realization pleased him further—height gain was always welcome. His original height of just over 170 cm seemed somewhat short compared to fellow adventurers. If attribute improvements could trigger physical development, nothing could be better.
Fresh from bathing, Gauss felt peckish again.
Might as well eat then.
Among the town's eateries, this tavern was rather upscale—at least more so than the Nightingale Tavern where Gauss had treated himself before his first adventure. Last time, Hayley had brought them here. Returning now, he couldn't help remembering his three companions.
Hayley's group should have reached Barry by now. He wondered how Bell and Mia's injuries were healing.
Thinking of Bell and the others, Gauss entered the tavern.
The interior contrasted sharply with the town's rugged streets, decorated quite exquisitely. Warm yellow oil lamps cast flickering halos against mottled red brick walls, while a tuxedoed bartender demonstrated skilled mixology behind the counter. Stacked oak barrels formed a wall behind him, their crevices faintly exuding aged malt liquor's aroma.
Beneath the wrought-iron chandeliers hanging from ceiling chains, the main hall hosted over a dozen elm tables surrounded almost entirely by armed adventurers, creating a lively atmosphere.
Patrons outnumbered Gauss's expectations—though considering adventurers' lifestyles erased distinctions between day and night, this made sense. Whether day or night, when the urge struck, they'd rush over to drink. Constant psychological tension naturally required alcoholic release, so many adventurers fresh from missions could be seen indulging for days straight in food and drink.
Young adventurers gestured animatedly at tables while waiters deftly navigated their flamboyant movements with trays; middle-aged men drank heartily with arms around shoulders, meat in mouths, spilling as much ale from their mugs as they consumed in their swaying merriment.
The scene made Gauss's stomach growl louder.
The aromas wafting through the air teased his appetite, making his mouth water. He disliked alcohol, detesting its bitter acidity, but adored good food—especially after days of rough field rations. Right now, he felt he could devour an entire cow.