Nfirea turned around at the sound of the voice behind him, his blue eyes widening in recognition.
The four adventurers beside him had already noticed Minori's approach. At first, they'd assumed he was just another bystander—but now, as he stepped directly into their circle, all four grew alert. Their expressions hardened slightly, hands subconsciously drifting closer to weapons.
This was standard practice. Even inside the Adventurer's Guild, the possibility of unexpected threats meant one could never be too cautious.
But Nfirea's voice cut through the rising tension.
"You're the guy from before…" he said, blinking. "Thank you for the water."
Minori gave a faint smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad it helped."
His hand patted the waterskin hanging from his belt—a quiet signal that he still carried it. Nfirea smiled back sheepishly and scratched his head.
Turning to the group, Minori spoke directly. "Apologies for the sudden interruption, but… I overheard your conversation. You're escorting someone to E-Rantel, right? Would it be possible for me to travel with you?"
A long silence followed.
Nfirea hesitated but said nothing—this wasn't solely his decision to make. The four adventurers beside him gave no immediate response. Their poker faces, carefully honed by years of traveling and battle, offered no insight into their thoughts.
Minori expected this.
He'd noticed something off about this team earlier—their composition seemed unbalanced, skewed too heavily toward frontline combatants.
Taking a slow breath, Minori stepped forward.
"What I just said was indeed a bit abrupt," he admitted. "But..."
He raised his palm.
"Minor Injury Treatment."
A gentle white glow bloomed from his hand. Warm and soothing, it carried a subtle divine pulse—a kind of light that brought hope in darkness.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
The four adventurers, who had previously remained stone-faced, reacted with visible surprise. Their eyes widened; one even let out a low gasp.
"A faith-type magic caster…?" one of them murmured, almost reverently.
The soft magic light faded, but the impression remained.
In this world, being an adventurer meant walking alongside danger. Whether from beasts, monsters, or even other people, wounds were inevitable. And yet, healing magic was far from common. Healing potions were expensive. Reliable clerics even more so.
And faith-based spellcasters, capable of casting restorative divine magic, were vanishingly rare.
Their value in a team wasn't just high—it was immeasurable.
Without waiting for further comment, Minori reached for the dagger at his waist. The blade flashed briefly as he caught it between two fingers, then flipped it smoothly into the air.
The weapon danced over his knuckles, twirling with practiced ease before settling back into his grip.
"I've also learned a bit of swordsmanship. I won't slow you down."
The four adventurers' gazes sharpened, catching the dexterity in his hands, the familiarity in his movements. That wasn't the fumbling of an amateur.
Sword Master.That was the job he'd unlocked not long ago. Since then, the use of bladed weapons had felt different. Like instinct. Like breathing.
Even without formal training in his past life, the class had reshaped his muscle memory.
Minori returned the dagger to its sheath and looked around the group.
Their silence was no longer cautious—it was impressed.
"Woah…" Nfirea blinked in awe. "You're amazing!"
He looked again at Minori's dark hair and calm expression. His grandmother always said: You can't judge a herb by its color or shape.
Minori was full of surprises.
At that moment, the blond adventurer at the center stepped forward with a cheerful grin.
"My name's Dosari. These three behind me are my good friends—and teammates."
He gestured to the others in turn.
"Basque." A lean man with a longbow strapped across his back gave a nod.
"Lele." "Rand." Twin warriors with matching shields saluted casually.
Minori observed them closely. They looked roughly the same age, all in their twenties. Their gear was practical and worn. Judging by appearance alone, the team lacked spellcasters or healers entirely.
Lele and Rand had the same golden hair and carried shields—likely frontliners or defenders. Basque, with his bow, was clearly the team's ranged support.
"Our team is called Rock. Like the name implies, we specialize in holding the line."
Dosari gave a proud grin.
Minori understood the subtext immediately. No offense to Nfirea, but this level of warmth wasn't extended to the client. He was being welcomed for another reason—his skills.
Minori nodded calmly. "My name is Minori."
Dosari gave another bright smile. "We've got no problem with it," he said, glancing at Nfirea. "It just depends on the client."
All eyes turned to the young alchemist.
Nfirea blinked, hesitated for half a second, then nodded quickly. "No objections. I trust him."
The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere relaxed.
It was decided.
Minori would accompany them to E-Rantel.
And so, he took the first step toward the next stage of his journey—not just as a wanderer, but as a member of an adventuring party.