After Gauss finished showing his skills—especially Magic Missile—the team’s attitude toward him shifted subtly but noticeably.
Though no one said anything directly, there was a clear change in how they looked at him. Their gazes now carried a bit more weight, more respect.
The following rounds of individual demonstrations and team drills saw everyone putting in extra effort.
It was as if Gauss had set a high bar, and now everyone was determined not to fall behind or look weak.
Noticing this change in atmosphere, Gauss couldn’t help but smile wryly.
“Yep... No matter the world, strength always commands respect.”
Even if a strong person doesn’t say much, their voice will always be heard.
It’s a path paved with flowers and applause.
But Gauss was also clear-eyed—strength is always relative.
Right now, thanks to the sheer firepower of Magic Missile, he had naturally taken on the role of the team’s “finisher” in tactical terms.
He outclassed the others in raw burst damage.
But once he was among real professionals, that edge would disappear.
His flashy attack might be nothing compared to the casual abilities of true adventurers.
In fact, it was possible that even a professional's Cantrip—a Level 0 spell—might outdamage his own Level 1 Magic Missile, given his lack of a formal class or refined mana.
And while he could only fire a single full-power missile at the moment, a real adventurer could probably spam weaker spells all day long.
Gauss had heard from Master Gron: once a mage truly becomes a professional and forms their class identity—known as a “job rank”—
not only would their mana pool expand, but the quality of their magic would increase too.
The same spell, cast post-job-rank, would hit harder, last longer, and cost less.
Once he officially ranked up, he could probably fire off several stronger Magic Missiles in a row—
unlike now, where he could only manage two weaker shots or a single fully powered blast.
“From now on, let me take the front. I’ll draw aggro for you.”
Laevin said this as the training wrapped up and the others gradually drifted away.
He exhaled, relieved.
Truth was, Laevin had a secret talent he’d never shared: an almost supernatural intuition that had saved his life more than once.
That morning at the guild, as he passed by Gauss, he felt it again—that unexplainable pull.
Even before Gauss said he was a mage, Laevin had already sensed there was something special about him.
That’s why he had immediately offered Gauss a place in the team—even though they hadn’t planned on recruiting anyone new.
And honestly, that’s probably why some of the other members had acted cold at first.
They weren’t consulted. It was sudden. They had their doubts.
Laevin couldn’t explain why he did it—not without sounding crazy.
But now, with Gauss proving himself far beyond expectations, those doubts were melting away, and Laevin finally felt some peace.
Now, he had just one new goal:
Convince Gauss to join the team for good.
After spending half a day together, Laevin had started to get a feel for how Gauss operated.
And honestly? He suspected this guy might be the most aloof of them all.
Despite everything—cold looks or friendly gestures—
Gauss had kept the same calm, faint smile on his face.
Like nothing could touch him.
And that kind of attitude gave off a strong “outsider” vibe.
The toll of the bell echoed over Grayrock Town.
“You’re up early,” said Sophia, the innkeeper, as Gauss came down the stairs.
“Got a quest today—heading out with the team,” Gauss replied, double-checking his gear one last time before stepping outside.
“I’ll be gone for a few days, Sophia.”
“Stay safe out there,” she said, watching him go with a faint frown.
She already knew Gauss had officially become an adventurer.
And she couldn’t help but worry.
Being an adventurer was dangerous work. Who’s to say one day he wouldn’t disappear into the wild, never to return?
And if that happened, she—a woman who wasn’t even family—might be the only one left to remember him.
Still, she had no right to interfere in his choices.
All she could do was wish him well.
But she’d seen it—this past month, Gauss had been changing, his body and spirit transforming day by day.
“Maybe… Gauss’s finally found his path.”
Grabbing a meat pie from a street stall, Gauss munched on it as he made his way to the town gate.
It was Doyle, the swordsman, catching up behind him.
“Morning,” Gauss replied, mouth full.
“Nah, I’m good. Got a pie,” he said, waving it.
Before they even reached the gate, they spotted Laevin waiting by the roadside.
Beside him, a horse-drawn cart sat ready.
“What’s this?” Gauss asked, blinking.
“This is our team’s gear hauler,” Laevin grinned. “Go ahead and toss your stuff on, Gauss.”
Gauss shrugged and loaded his bag and leather armor onto the cart.
Laevin’s shield, Doyle’s greatsword and armor, cookware, rations, tents—it was all there, well-packed and organized.
Pretty well-prepared, Gauss thought.
Then again, they were a six-person team.
Trying to hitch a ride with a merchant caravan last-minute would be tricky—and even if they managed that on the way out, there’d be no guarantee on the way back.
Hauling heavy armor and gear through the wilderness was exhausting.
Better to just bring your own transport.
Soon, the rest of the team arrived and did the same—lightened their loads, checked the gear list, and hit the road.
The wooden wheels turned steadily, the cart rolling forward as the team marched in sync.
When someone got tired, they could hop on the cart for a breather.
All in all, it was a smoother, more pleasant journey than Gauss expected.
“I’m definitely buying a horse in the future,” he thought.
“To carry gear—mine and my future teammates’.”
Last time, hiking back from Birchwood Village nearly broke him.
At first it wasn’t so bad, but after a couple of hours?
His shoulders burned, his legs ached, and every few minutes he had to stop and rest.
It had taken over two full days to get back—
and that was with a Constitution score of 6.
Today, though? Light gear, no weight, fresh legs—a totally different experience.
And as he walked, Gauss was quietly absorbing knowledge from Laevin like a sponge.
Adventuring wasn’t like video games.
There was no teleporting to quest markers.
Travel was slow, dangerous, and half the job.
That’s why prep work mattered so much.
And though someday he might reach the levels of those powerful pros, right now, Gauss was still at the beginning—learning, growing, and planning his future.
By the way, Gauss had finally found out from Daphne how much a proper wand base actually cost.
It was way more expensive than he’d expected.
Wand woods came in all types—holly, elderwood, stormwood, peach, hawthorn…
But not every piece could channel mana. Only rare branches from specific cuts were usable.
Even the cheapest functional wand base cost at least 70 silver coins.
Some premium ones went up to 10 gold coins or more—sometimes more than the magical stone that served as the wand’s core.
And that was just the base.