Adventurer of Many Professions

"You said you awakened the 'Warrior' profession?"

Arya blinked in disbelief, leaning slightly forward as if to make sure she'd heard correctly.

Raymond chuckled at her reaction and nodded, stretching out his right hand. "Yeah, I awakened it last night."

He turned his hand over, revealing a symbol etched into the back of it, a crossed sword and shield, the unmistakable mark of a 'Warrior'.

After awakening, Raymond had discovered that the symbol could be made visible or hidden at will, depending on his intent.

Arya stared at the symbol for a moment before the realization sunk in. "You're serious," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. But her expression quickly shifted, her brows furrowing in concern. "But… Raymond, are there even others who have awakened *two* professions before?"

Dual-profession adventurers were practically unheard of, so rare that Arya couldn't recall a single example from the stories she'd read or heard.

"Yes," Raymond reassured her, "I found some references to it in the temple library a few days ago."

He gave her a brief explanation, telling her that dual-professionals, and even multi-profession adventurers, existed, though they were extremely rare.

Hearing this, Arya let out a breath of relief and lightly patted her chest, which had begun to show the first signs of maturity. "Good. I was worried you'd be caught and experimented on or something, just so people could figure out how you awakened a second profession."

Her genuine concern made Raymond smile warmly. In that moment, he felt a swell of gratitude for her. Arya's worry wasn't rooted in curiosity or envy; it was purely about protecting him.

This was exactly why Raymond had decided to tell Arya about his Warrior awakening first. He trusted her, knowing she cared about his well-being and wouldn't betray that trust.

"By the way," Raymond added after a pause, "don't tell anyone else about my Warrior awakening for now."

Though he had no intention of hiding it forever, there was no need to announce it openly. Drawing too much attention could bring jealousy or unwanted complications, which was best avoided.

"Don't worry," Arya promised, her voice firm. "I won't say a word."

Then her curiosity returned. "So, are you planning to buy a sword now and head to the Adventurer's Guild for a quest?"

Raymond shook his head. "Not yet. I'll buy the sword to practice first. No sense rushing into missions before I'm proficient."

Arya nodded thoughtfully, then offered, "If you're buying a sword, you should go to the 'Greytor Weapon Shop' the one owned by that dwarf craftsman you mentioned last time. They sell high-quality gear, and you won't have to worry about replacing it later. If you get a cheap sword, it'll just end up costing you more when it breaks."

She had a point. Raymond vividly remembered the dwarf-made armor he'd bought from that shop; despite heavy use and multiple scratches, it had held up remarkably well. A weapon from the same store would be a worthwhile investment, especially since he needed a heavy sword weighing at least eight kilograms.

"You're right," Raymond agreed, nodding. "I'll head there."

"Good luck!" Arya smiled as she watched him grab his purse and leave the house.

---

Outside, the streets were alive with activity.

Adventurers moved purposefully, their armor gleaming in the morning sunlight as they made their way toward the Adventurer's Guild. Most of them were clad in gear as good or better, than Raymond's.

Red Rose Street, where Raymond lived, wasn't for low-tier adventurers. Most residents here were at least 'bronze-level', with the occasional 'black iron-level' who could scrape together enough to rent the townhouses.

For adventurers, equipment was a higher priority than living arrangements. A well-maintained weapon or armor could mean the difference between life and death on a mission, so they were willing to skimp on luxuries to ensure they were battle-ready.

This was why Red Rose Street housed adventurers with decent gear, they had the earnings and experience to justify investing in themselves. As for 'white porcelain-level' adventurers, they typically couldn't afford townhouses here unless they had additional sources of income, like Raymond.

Raymond strode confidently through the streets, blending in with the bustle. Though his armor and demeanor fit right in, his mind was elsewhere. The thought of training with a proper sword, refining his Warrior abilities, and awakening the 'Swordsman' profession gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

Soon, the familiar sign of the 'Greytor Weapon Shop' came into view, the faint sound of hammers ringing out from within. With a steady breath, Raymond pushed open the door, ready to take the next step in his journey.

It took Raymond twenty minutes to arrive at Greytor's weapon shop. Even before stepping through the door, he could hear the rhythmic clang of a hammer striking metal, the unmistakable sound of the dwarf craftsman hard at work.

As Raymond walked in, the dwarf looked up from his anvil, squinting at him with a frown. "Why are you here again?" he grumbled.

Raymond froze, momentarily stunned. *Does anyone actually complain about repeat customers? Should I just leave?*

But before he could say anything, the dwarf's gaze flicked over him, noticing he wasn't carrying any armor for repairs. Greytor gave a satisfied grunt, stroking his braided beard. "Fine. Tell me what you want. Buying equipment?"

"Yes," Raymond replied, stepping closer. "I'm looking for a long sword for warriors. Do you have any recommendations?"

As he spoke, a panel suddenly popped up in Raymond's field of vision:

"Learnable skills detected: Forging [Craftsman] [Upgradable], learning cost: 3 skill points."

"Learnable skills detected: Appraisal [Craftsman] [Pharmacist] [Upgradable], learning cost: 2 skill points."

"Learnable skill detected: Metal Fusion [Craftsman] [Upgradable], learning cost: 3 skill points."

Raymond gave the list a quick glance but dismissed it for now. There were more pressing matters, like the dwarf currently eyeing him with suspicion.

"A fighter looking for a warrior's long sword?" Greytor muttered, raising an eyebrow. "What nonsense are you adventurers up to these days?"

Raymond opened his mouth to offer a prepared excuse, but the dwarf waved him off with a dismissive grunt, muttering to himself as he tugged at his beard. "Bah, doesn't matter. You're here to spend your gold, and I'm here to drink it. You want an eight-kilogram sword, right? Follow me."

Greytor led him to a wall lined with weapons. One section held sleek, one-handed swords typically favored by swordsmen, while another displayed the 'heavy long swords' used by warriors. These blades were noticeably wider and thicker, with some hilts designed for two-handed use.

Raymond scanned the selection carefully, hoping to use his 'Craftsman's intuition' to find the best value. But he quickly realized a hard truth; higher quality swords were always more expensive, and while he could tell which ones were good, he couldn't gauge just *how* good they were.

Finally, his eyes landed on one sword. The blade was four fingers wide, ninety centimeters long, and weighed just over ten kilograms. Its hilt was versatile, usable with one or both hands, and the overall balance felt right in his grip.

"This one," he said, lifting the sword with both hands. It had a simplicity that spoke to its functionality, and the weight felt solid yet manageable.

The dwarf craftsman's eyes widened slightly as he watched Raymond inspect the weapon. Of all the swords on display, he hadn't expected Raymond to pick *that* one.

Greytor remembered the night he forged it. Fueled by a particularly fine bottle of wine, he had felt a surge of inspiration and crafted the blade with unusual care and precision. But in his drunken state, he'd used an ordinary piece of metal lying around instead of higher-quality materials.

The result was a beautifully balanced sword that could have been a masterpiece, if only he'd used better steel.

*Does this kid actually know how to judge swords?* Greytor wondered, narrowing his eyes. But he quickly dismissed the thought. *Nah, he's just a fighter. No way he could tell the difference.*

"Mr. Greytor, I want this sword," Raymond said, breaking the dwarf's train of thought.

The more Raymond handled the sword, the more certain he became. It was sturdy, balanced, and had a practical elegance that made it stand out.

Greytor's expression darkened slightly. Though he wasn't attached to the sword, he felt a pang of irritation seeing someone buy what could have been one of his finest works, if only it hadn't been forged on a drunken whim.

"That sword will cost you ten gold coins and fifty-four silver coins," he said gruffly, crossing his arms. "Not a single coin less."

Raymond didn't haggle. Without hesitation, he handed over the full amount, grabbed the scabbard that came with the sword, and sheathed the blade with satisfaction.

"Thank you, Mr. Greytor," Raymond said as he turned to leave, a faint smile on his face.

The dwarf watched him go, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. *There's something strange about that kid… Picking that sword wasn't luck. But how did he know?*

Greytor shook his head and returned to his forge. "Bah. Adventurers and their mysteries..."

Meanwhile, Raymond strode down the bustling street, the weight of the long sword resting comfortably against his side. He couldn't wait to begin training with it, feeling like he'd just taken another step forward in his journey.