In the depths of a dense forest.
The once-towering ancient trees had been mostly snapped in half, and the solid ground was a web of cracks, pockmarked with craters of all sizes.
Looking down from high above, a massive clearing had appeared out of nowhere in the center of the once-lush forest, a silent testament to the ferocity of the battle.
At the edge of the clearing, Roland flicked the blood from his Secret Silver Longsword and plunged the blade deep into the soil at his feet.
"Whew..."
Gazing at the corpse of the Bear Goblin, still oozing blood onto the ground, he let out a long breath.
'No wonder some Mercenaries and Adventurers, even after completing countless commissions and earning rewards a commoner could never hope to attain in a lifetime, still end up unable to make ends meet...'
Roland looked down at the Fine Iron Round Shield in his hand, which was now almost in pieces, and gently shook his head.
