Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

As the cloaked figure ate, she suddenly felt that something was off.

She stopped chewing and brought her nose close to the coarse cloth bag holding the meat.

Following the edge of the bag, she carefully sniffed the lingering scent from top to bottom.

A term suddenly surfaced in her mind.

Dragon-blooded?

The cloaked figure couldn’t believe her own judgment, so she pressed her nose against the bag again and took another deep sniff.

The other party seemed to have just undergone some kind of Bloodline purification ritual. There was absolutely no way she could mistake that scent.

It really was a rare Dragon-blooded.

Inside her not-so-reliable head, she slowly recalled an ancient contract the elders of her clan had once forced her to memorize.

According to the 《Azure Moon and Golden Covenant》, among the Azure Moon Werewolf royal clan, whenever they encountered danger, the Dragon race was obligated to provide them with shelter and food unconditionally.

But now a problem arose.

Did Dragon-blooded actually count as true Dragons?

The cloaked figure scratched her head in distress.

It was all because she had only cared about playing around in the clan and never liked studying. She couldn’t even figure out this kind of basic historical knowledge.

But after another thought—

Since the word “Dragon” was in Dragon-blooded, they should count as a branch of the same race, right?

Who cared whether they counted or not!

She would secretly follow them first and see what happened.

Now that she had stumbled upon such a huge backer, her future meal tickets were finally secured.

After figuring this out, she immediately stuffed the unfinished bag of food back into the corner of the shrine.

“Hmph hmph.”

She turned to look at the two little dogs and snorted disdainfully.

“I’m not interested in fighting you two little dogs for food.”

The cloaked figure stood up and cautiously surveyed the surrounding environment.

Then, like a hunting hound, she twitched her nose and followed the lingering Dragon-blooded scent in the air, silently trailing after it.

……

Behind the Veterans’ Guild building stood a large area of neatly arranged connected stone houses.

These sturdy homes had all been funded and built by Graystone Town officials.

They were specially provided for retired veterans who had once bled for the kingdom and returned with honor.

Lance followed the house numbers until he found one of them.

It was a typical two-story stone cottage with a pointed roof, covered in thick dark stone tiles.

The surroundings were extremely tidy. Unknown green vines climbed along the yard fence, while the steps at the entrance had been swept spotless, giving off a strict and disciplined atmosphere.

Lance stepped forward and gently knocked on the thick wooden door.

Only a few seconds passed.

A low and obviously wary voice came from behind the door.

“Who is it?”

“Uncle Ryan, it’s me, Lance.”

After Lance identified himself, the sound of a cane tapping against the floor came from inside.

Along with the turning of the lock, the heavy wooden door was pulled open, revealing a man in his fifties.

His build was extremely robust. Though his temples had already turned gray, his eyes remained as sharp as a hawk’s.

A savage scar stretched across the bridge of his nose, making him look particularly fierce.

“So it’s you, brat.”

After recognizing the visitor, the vigilance on Ryan’s face instantly turned into a warm smile. Leaning on his cane, he turned and walked back inside.

“How’s that scribe job at the guild going lately? You didn’t cause trouble for that old Grayson, did you?”

Lance smiled without replying and followed Ryan into the house.

The interior layout of the first floor was extremely simple—one could even say crude.

There were no unnecessary decorations.

A few old wooden pieces of furniture were casually placed around the room. Several dust-covered wooden boxes were piled in one corner, while miscellaneous items were somewhat messily scattered across the table.

It perfectly matched the rough lifestyle of an old man living alone.

Naturally, Lance placed the alcohol and packaged meat dishes he had brought onto the dining table missing one of its corners.

“I already quit that scribe job.”

Back then, the reason Lance had been able to smoothly enter the Adventurers’ Guild and secure that enviable position was entirely because Ryan had swallowed his pride and used his retired veteran connections to help pull strings.

And the reason Ryan had helped Lance so wholeheartedly—

Aside from the fact that Lance’s father had once saved his life, there was another reason.

When Lance was still young, his father, Moloch, often left Graystone Town and entrusted Lance to Ryan’s care.

One could say that Ryan had personally raised him as well.

Hearing Lance’s words, Ryan’s thick brows immediately furrowed tightly together.

He felt this kid was treating his own future like a joke.

Such a good, safe, respectable job—other people would fight tooth and nail just to get in, yet he had quit it just because he felt like it.

“Then what exactly are you doing now? Is it safe?”

Even so, the first thing Ryan cared about was still Lance’s personal safety.

Lance clearly felt the concern within Ryan’s words and immediately revealed a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Ryan.”

“My new job is very safe, and the pay is quite generous too.”

To avoid making the other party worry, Lance casually made up the excuse that he was working as a merchant apprentice.

“I just travel around nearby towns with merchant caravans, so I probably won’t stay in Graystone Town very often. If you need to find me in the future, it might be a little inconvenient.”

The kingdom had always treated retired veterans extremely well.

Every month, they received more living supplies than they could ever use up, such as coarse cloth, flour, or cured meat.

Ryan always packed up the extra supplies himself and personally delivered them to Lance.

Moreover, Lance still hadn’t had the chance to tell Ryan about his move after earning enough money.

So he took the opportunity today to carefully tell this elder his new address in detail.

And he repeatedly swore that no matter what he did, he would always prioritize his own safety first.

After spending a long time persuading him, Ryan finally reluctantly set aside his worries.

Once these trivial matters were dealt with, Lance slowly restrained his smile and shifted toward his real purpose for coming today.

“Uncle Ryan.”

Lance stared directly into the veteran’s eyes, his tone turning serious.

“Can you tell me in detail about my father’s past?”

That’s right.

After seeing that emblem, the first people Lance became suspicious of were the nominal parents of this body.

However, when Lance reviewed the original owner’s memories, something extremely strange appeared.

After searching carefully, he discovered there were actually no memory fragments whatsoever related to his mother.

It was as though that woman had never existed in this world at all.

And the only parent he had memories of—his father—had suddenly died from illness two years ago without any warning.

Originally, if all of this had happened in an ordinary single-parent family, it would have seemed perfectly normal.

But now that Lance knew the truth, everything felt suspicious.

“What about your father?”

Upon hearing such an abrupt question, Ryan’s first reaction was that someone had come causing trouble under Moloch’s name, and Lance had specifically come today seeking protection.

The veteran subconsciously touched his wrist, as though there were some convenient weapon there.

“No, no.”

Lance hurriedly waved his hands and explained with a relaxed smile:

“I was just sorting through the old house recently and found some things my father left behind.”

“I suddenly realized that, as his son, I actually know very little about his past experiences.”

Lance’s relaxed and natural attitude successfully dispelled Ryan’s suspicions.

Ryan picked up the wine bottle on the table, bit out the cork, and poured himself a large cup of strong liquor. After taking a fierce gulp, the spicy liquid flowed down his throat as he sank into his memories.

He slowly began recounting how he had first met Lance’s father back then.