Chapter 242: Legend, Vessel, Prestige

Chapter 242: Chapter 242: Legend, Vessel, Prestige

The Iron Throne’s reputation would be utterly ruined for violating the convention, and the Silver Hand would be forced to withdraw from the competition after losing its core material supplies.

If the two factions erupted into an all-out conflict over this at such a critical juncture...

The outcome was self-evident: it would end in mutual destruction.

Then the one to benefit would inevitably be the hidden mastermind watching the show from the shadows.

"So which of the top-ranking teams did it?"

Julius’s expression was grim. He quickly ran through the veteran powerhouse teams that had a real shot at the top three this time.

Just as they were still speculating...

Lance’s voice rang out again.

"It was the Crimson Bell of Death."

Lance had never heard of this strange organization before.

However, the system’s Illustrated Guide before his eyes clearly indicated their true faction allegiance.

"The Crimson Bell of Death? Isn’t that..."

Falk’s eyes widened instantly, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

The other team members listening in also wore grave expressions.

Evidently, everyone present had heard of this infamous organization.

Only Nieve, the Snow Lady, seemed to be staring blankly into the air.

Lance watched their reactions. ’Looks like they believe me.’

Since they had already filled in the blanks themselves, it saved him the trouble of racking his brain to come up with a plausible explanation.

"Thank you."

Julius stepped forward and gave Lance a formal, standard Knight’s salute.

"If not for your assistance and for seeing through the deception, our Silver Hand might not only have lost the right to compete for the crown, but would also have been dragged into a meaningless team war because of someone else’s scheme."

Julius looked up, his tone utterly sincere.

"After the Summer Crown is over, I hope you can find the time to visit the Silver Hand’s post in White River City."

"We will prepare a sufficiently generous reward to express our gratitude."

"It was nothing."

Lance gave a casual wave, not taking such a polite promise to heart.

Due to the sudden explosion, the Silver Hand now had a mess to deal with internally. They needed to urgently replan their supply lines and adjust their tactics.

Meanwhile, Lance needed to hurry and find the Veterans’ Guild’s stronghold to secure a room for himself.

After a brief farewell, the two parties went their separate ways.

But the next moment, Bazzer, who had been waiting for a long time, grabbed firmly onto Lance’s sleeve.

The Minstrel absolutely refused to let Lance leave.

He insisted on dragging Lance to a tavern in a corner of the camp immediately, saying he had to properly thank him face-to-face for saving his life.

If it hadn’t been for Lance just now, Bazzer knew he would never have seen his daughter again.

Lilia also ran over, hugging Lance’s leg tightly with both arms.

The little girl looked up and pleaded sweetly, insisting that her big brother had to join them for dinner.

Faced with the passionate offensive from the father-daughter duo, Lance, unable to refuse, could only sigh helplessly and follow them to the street corner.

It was a typical Underground City tavern.

Its main frame was built from rough pinewood, and you could even see the texture of the bark on the walls. The overall style was rather crude.

But the aroma wafting from inside was anything but.

The three of them found a wooden table by the window and sat down.

Before long, a waiter brought over a large, sizzling platter of roasted meat.

The honey-glazed roasted ribs had an alluring caramelized color, and the rich, meaty aroma mixed with spices assailed their nostrils.

Lance picked up his knife, cut off a piece, and put it in his mouth.

The moment he took a bite, Lance’s eyes lit up.

’This is incredible!’

The meat was tender and fresh, the fat bursting in his mouth. The crispy outer layer had a hint of sweetness, and it required almost no effort to chew—the meat simply melted on his tongue.

"This is masterful," Lance couldn’t help but praise.

What surprised him even more was that after eating the roasted meat, a faint, warm current rose within his body.

The Chef here was clearly a Life System Professional.

The food they made could actually provide the eater’s body with a short-term buff.

Lance glanced at his system panel out of the corner of his eye.

A new buff icon had indeed appeared in his status bar.

[Delicious Nourishment: Life Recovery Speed +3 points/minute. Duration: 1 hour.]

Bazzer sat opposite him. Seeing Lance’s satisfied expression, he began to explain with a smile.

"The Chef here is no ordinary person."

"He used to be the head chef at a high-end restaurant in White River City’s central district."

"Later, his only son insisted on becoming an Adventurer. The old man was afraid his son would suffer in the Underground City and miss the taste of home, so he quit his job and followed his son into the Underground City to become his personal Chef."

Lance asked casually while chewing a piece of meat.

"And his son?"

’Based on my experience reading novels in my past life, this kind of backstory filled with fatherly love usually comes with a less-than-happy ending.’

’Something like the son dying in battle, and the old father staying behind in the Underground City to watch over his memory.’

Bazzer laughed out loud at the question.

He pointed to the young sous-chef skillfully chopping vegetables in the open kitchen.

"See that sous-chef over there? That’s his son."

"A young man might spend his whole life blindly chasing a so-called dream of being a Hero. But after they’ve truly been beaten down by life-and-death experiences, they often discover that the person they really wanted to become was someone just like their own father."

Lance followed his gaze. Although the young sous-chef had a faint scar on his face, he was completely focused on preparing the ingredients, his eyes radiating a sense of grounded reliability.

The two men looked at each other, smiled, and looked away.

Bazzer set down his cup and folded his hands on the tabletop.

"Actually, my insistence on inviting you to dinner wasn’t just to thank you. There’s also something important I’d like to discuss."

At that moment, Lilia, sitting beside them, couldn’t care less about the adults’ conversation.

She was clutching a roasted rib bigger than her own face with both hands, her face smeared with sticky sauce. Her short little legs, dangling in the air, swung happily beneath the wide wooden chair.

Hearing her father’s suddenly serious tone, the little girl paused and glanced at the two men.

Seeing nothing was wrong, she lowered her head and went back to tackling the rib in her hands.

Bazzer’s tone was sincere.

"I hope to be able to ’compose a personal biography’ for you during this Summer Crown."

Bazzer felt that absolutely no one in the world would refuse this offer.

It was equivalent to a professional Minstrel willing to pour all his energy into personally making a name for a newcomer.

It was an offer almost too good to be true.

But...

"I’m sorry, Mr. Bazzer."

Lance set down his knife and fork. He picked up his napkin, wiped the corner of his mouth, and replied with a gentle yet firm refusal.

"I’m really not interested in things like fame."

"Besides, I’m just a complete newcomer who’s only just reached Level 1."

"I’m afraid I can’t provide the kind of sensational material you’re looking for."

"Huh?"

An expression of disbelief appeared on Bazzer’s face.

He was stunned for a few seconds, then a certain possibility came to mind.

He leaned forward slightly and asked tentatively.

"Mr. Lance, do you have any idea what substantive purpose the titles awarded by the Summer Crown actually serve?"

Lance nodded.

He repeated the information the old guild master of the Adventurer’s Guild had told him.

"Don’t you just get a corresponding discount when buying supplies, plus some Attribute bonuses?"

After hearing this answer...

Bazzer was completely petrified.

He stared at Lance as if he were looking at a monster, his mouth agape. It took him a long moment to force out a sentence.

"Mr. Lance..."

He rubbed his stiff cheeks forcefully and took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone from sounding too agitated.

"If you really believe that the [Titles] which countless people risk their lives to compete for are merely for getting a discount when shopping, or providing a few trivial Attribute bonuses..."

Bazzer leaned forward slightly.

"Then let me ask you, do you think that super Guilds like the Silver Hand and the Iron Throne, backed by the Royal Family and top financial magnates, are short on a few discounts and resources?"

"Why would they have the geniuses they’ve cultivated risk their lives to come to this deadly Underground City and kill each other, all just to fight for a nominal title?"

His words were like a sharp wake-up call.

Lance froze slightly upon hearing the rhetorical question.

’If it was just for such paltry gains, there would be absolutely no need for those Grand Guilds to throw their core prospects into this meat-grinder of a competition.’

Seeing the doubt finally appear in Lance’s eyes, Bazzer adopted a serious expression.

"Mr. Lance, I can sense that your Knowledge of the core Professional Level Profession System is far too shallow."

"You take the words ’reputation’ and ’title’ far too lightly."

Bazzer lowered his voice.

"Do you know how the Profession System was first born?"

"If reputation were simply a matter of fame that’s on everyone’s lips."

"Then our Minstrel Profession could never have appeared in the Material Realm, let alone occupy such a crucial position in the Profession System!"

Bazzer’s voice gradually took on a pride unique to Minstrels.

"Because true Legends must be spread by us, with ink and song!"

"When countless people chant your name at the same moment, when the faith and praise of millions converge, that is not mere empty fame. That is a tangible Power capable of twisting the rules of the Material Realm!"

Bazzer offered a shocking example.

"The founding Monarch of our Iris Kingdom, whom the world reverently calls the ’Red Dragon’."

"Do you really believe that he was able to suppress an entire era alone, simply because the bloodline Power of a Giant Dragon flowed through his veins?"

Bazzer didn’t provide the answer, leaving Lance to ponder it himself.

"And do you understand what those [Titles] issued by the Underground City or the Star Realm represent?"

"They are ’vessels’ that can truly bear the power of these ethereal Legends and manifest it as your own immense power!"