Blood Trail Outpost was a complete definition of a struggling town, and even though Roman was seeing it for the very first time, he didn't need to be lectured before understanding it.
The view could tell.
The outer walls were nothing more than rows of thick wooden logs driven into the earth, weathered and darkened by age, with gaps in some places barely patched over with rope and scrap timber.
The entrance gate groaned under its own weight, its hinges rusted to a deep brown, looking like one strong wind away from collapsing entirely. Beyond it, the houses were just as humble, small wooden structures with uneven rooftops and walls that had clearly been repaired more than once. Some buildings leaned slightly to one side as though they had long given up on standing straight, and the narrow paths between them were unpaved dirt, worn flat by years of foot traffic.
Compared to other Outposts or Refuges, this had to be considered one of, if not the most feeble community possible.
What could Roman say? It was not like he had any chance of getting himself into one of the best communities.
This was his place, and there was nothing that would change that.
The moment the gate opened, they all walked into the small village with Norman leading the way.
There were about twenty-seven of them, and once they came into view, they drew the attention of literally every single person around.
Cheers rose from different corners and applause came after. It was clear that they were welcoming the newcomers, and the most interesting thing was that the community had just gotten bigger and, perhaps... stronger.
Norman led them straight to the Head's quarters. A sturdier and better furnished building located in the middle of the small town.
There, a considerable number of people had already been waiting outside, ready to welcome the new arrivals.
Roman had once been told that this was the only good thing an Entrant could enjoy after entering the Badlands. A good welcoming treat, and then you face hell right after.
But Roman understood that was only true for those who weren't having a good time in the Badlands. He believed that if things went well as planned, then the welcoming treat wouldn't be the only good thing one would experience.
For instance, thinking about the wealthy Entrants topping the rankings, there was no way one could say they were all suffering, right?
Sure, it was understandable that they faced challenges, but surely it was their triumph through those challenges that had raised them to where they were.
The Outpost Head was amongst the people waiting, and when they arrived, he didn't take long to step forward.
Norman approached him and they had a short private conversation, before the Head turned to the rookies who were all staring in anticipation and curiosity.
"First of all, welcome to Blood Trail Outpost, and congratulations to all of you on becoming Entrants. Awakeners, some would say, but we don't use that here. We awaken our talents, but that doesn't completely define who we are.
We are Entrants. Strong-willed warriors who have entered this vast and vile world to pursue power, wealth, and greatness. In the old days, it was against our own will, but now... it is a great opportunity and achievement to be here," the Head spoke.
"My name is Sylvester Trench, and I'm the leader of this outpost. I know most of you might have doubts about the safety and growth here because of its location in the Blood Trail Valley, but trust me... we are not weak."
Most of the youngsters nodded, motivated, while Roman stood still.
"We are going to expand our territory, and also acquire more valuable items and funding to strengthen the durability of our walls. And most importantly, we are going to grow our Adventurer groups!
All of this is going to be possible if you follow the rules and work hard to ensure we keep progressing. Without that, I'm afraid we'll be stagnant, and I'm sure none of you want that, right?"
Everyone nodded.
"So, my assistant Norman Kons is going to give us a full orientation on the Badlands, and the rules of Blood Trail Outpost as corresponding from the law of the Citadel," Sylvester said before stepping back a few metres.
Then Norman came forward.
"We are going to start with the current study of the Badlands," Norman began.
"The Badlands is a vast world, at least a hundred times bigger than the World as described by the Premiers. However, only a total of eight hundred to eight hundred and fifty square kilometres have been explored and covered. This covered area is called The Reach, and Blood Trail Outpost is part of it.
However, Blood Trail Outpost is not an independent community. We are governed by the laws of Citadel City, and this community is an outpost and camp established for the Great Citadel Guild. Keep in mind that if you disobey the rules, you may not only be dishonouring the outpost authority, but the Citadel's command as well."
"And as for the rules..."
"Ahem..."
Norman cleared his throat and continued.
"There shall be no hunting outside Blood Trail Valley. You shall only explore lands within the vast valley and not beyond it. This is to ensure safety until you rank up."
"Secondly..."
Norman went through a good number of rules, and everyone was taking note. However, it was the final rule, which didn't seem like an exact rule, that left almost everyone feeling odd.
"Hunting at night is not recommended for any of you. Since you are still early in the F rank, it is advisable to only hunt during the day. However, it is not mandatory. You can still go ahead and hunt at night, but the risk is entirely on you."
It didn't sound like an order at all, and they wondered why, because considering how life-threatening it was, they had expected it to be mandatory for everyone not to leave the walls after dark.
But nobody asked questions, even though the Outpost Head invited them to. The most lingering thought in everyone's mind at that moment was simply to get started.
Everyone was eager.
Unfortunately, it was already getting dark, so nobody considered starting their life as an Entrant with a night hunt.
Wouldn't make sense, would it?
After the orientation, Norman led each and every one of them to their assigned spaces in the various houses.
They all got a small space with a mattress and almost every basic thing a person would need.
It wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible either.
What would one expect from an outpost in the first place?
Roman's room was located not far from the gate, right across from the blacksmith workshop. Roman didn't only like it because it was a blacksmith, he liked it because he had every intention of doing some experimenting to craft his own weapon for hunting.
But at that moment, he figured that wasn't the most important thing.
As soon as he walked into his room, he noticed that he had a lot of notifications on the BSP panel.
And when he clicked on it...
[You were randomly invited to join Rough Hunters Group Chat.]
[You were randomly invited to join Adventurers of the End Time Group Chat.]
[You were randomly invited to join "I Want To Go Beyond The Reach" Group Chat.]
"Huh? Am I getting pulled into a group this early?"
Roman was stunned because he hadn't expected something like this. Only the best of the best were typically allowed into groups, even when they weren't in the same community or guild. They came together to share ideas and strategies to excel, and it had long since become common practice in the Badlands.
Roman hesitated for a moment and decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to accept, so he went ahead and accepted all the invites.
Within a few seconds, he was added to the groups. Soon enough, the first message he received came from Rough Hunters Group Chat.
[Entrant #45925712: Hello, Entrant @45611100. Welcome to the group chat. Please tell us your name, academic standard, chances of summoning, and Profession.]
Roman flinched.
"Isn't it enough with asking what my academic standard is?!" Roman shouted in frustration.
[Entrant #45925712: We are waiting...!]
Roman didn't know if things would go well if he told them the truth, but a part of him had considered lying. He was only afraid that they might regret adding him and remove him from the group chat once they knew.
But he went ahead anyway.
[Entrant #45611100: My name is Roman Rings, and my academic standard was Fourth Class. Chances of Summoning was thirty-six, but I'm here anyway. And as for my Profession, I haven't selected one yet.]
He sent the message, and his heart began to beat fast as he waited for a response.
[Entrant #45925712 is typing...]
Roman waited, nervous and curious at the same time.
And then...
[Entrant #45925712: And who has even gotten a Profession since the BSP arrived. Tsk! Fourth Class, really? Sorry, man. You are going to be a heavy bag of failure.]
[Entrant #45570001: Get this loser out, now! Or I'm finding a better group that doesn't have a Fourth Class in it.]
[Entrant #45925712: Right away, Prince.]
Ding!
[Entrant #45925712 has removed you.]
Roman watched the whole drama escalate until he saw that he had been removed, and that didn't only hit like a punch to the face. It came as a direct message telling him he was never going to succeed.
The next group, Adventurers of the End Time, messaged him as well. The admin asked the exact same thing the first admin had asked, and when he answered...
He was removed again.
The next group went the same way, and even as more invitations came in, he got removed every single time after giving his information, and at a point, he was nearly ready to give up.
Another notification came, and he swore to himself he would stop trying if he got rejected this time.
[You were randomly invited to join the Dominion Legion Group Chat.]
Like always, he provided his information after his acceptance was approved, and when he did...
Roman closed his eyes, his heart nearly skipping with every passing second, waiting and hoping.
Hoping and waiting.
Hoping not to get rejected this time.
Fingers loose, fist unclenched, hopes up even though it didn't feel that way.
And finally...
Ding!
When the notification popped up, it felt like an eternity before he went ahead to check, and when he finally did...
[Entrant #40865000: Welcome to the group chat, Entrant #45611100. My name is North Rockbridge, and I'm the admin of this group chat.]
Somehow, someway, he had been accepted. Finally.
And as if that wasn't enough...
[Congratulations! You have just joined one of the very few Platinum Groups in the Badlands.]
"A Platinum Group???"
"You've got to be kidding me."