Orum followed Raygore into the front hall of the Dragon's Heart Emerald Inn.
The space was just as magnificent, radiating an air of extravagance, as if he'd truly stepped into a treasure vault built by the hands of a gem dragon itself.
The receptionist at the front desk was a blonde girl with diluted dragonborn blood. Her striking red, slit-pupil eyes naturally exuded a faint dragon's aura, enough to intimidate wild animals.
Raygore led Orum through the hall and up a velvet-carpeted staircase, heading straight for the VIP guest rooms on the third floor.
As they climbed, Raygore's muffled voice suddenly emerged from behind his mask: "Usually, the captain will ask you one to three questions.
Based on your answers, he'll judge whether you're a good fit for the Ice Hawks."
Hearing this, Orum paused for a moment before asking, "These questions... there's no right answer, is there?"
Raygore shook his head. "No right answer. But generally speaking, the captain's standards are pretty forgiving."
"The one type of person the captain absolutely cannot tolerate, the kind he despises most, are those with noble blood. You're just a commoner, so odds are you'll pass."
"Captain Felix... despises nobles?" Orum keenly picked up on the contradiction. "But from what I know, isn't he himself a nobleman from a distinguished family?"
A high-born young master who hated his own class.
Behind that... there had to be a whole heap of dark childhood secrets that turned him into such an extreme rebel.
Based on Orum's experience watching dramas, this kind of tragic, handsome, suffering male lead usually had three or four childhood sweethearts from top-tier families, all tangled up in an eighty-episode melodrama packed with family feuds, love and hate, corporate warfare, power plays, and multi-love polygons...
Orum's mind instantly conjured countless soap-opera scenarios.
"We're here."
Raygore's voice cut through his thoughts. He didn't answer Orum's question, only stopped silently in front of the most lavish guest room door on the third floor.
The moment they approached, Orum heard a series of dull "thunk, thunk" sounds, like a woodpecker rhythmically pecking at wood.
Orum immediately realized: "That's... the sound of darts hitting a target? Someone inside is playing darts?"
Raygore silently pushed open the heavy oak door. The ridiculously spacious hall inside instantly broadened Orum's view.
The first thing that caught Orum's eye were four massive oil paintings hanging on the walls.
The frames were exquisite, the brushwork masterful, depicting four different monsters with lifelike detail.
These paintings featured delicate strokes and brilliant use of light and shadow. Just looking at them was a visual treat, clearly the work of some master painter.
The first painting showed water-dwelling creatures covered in smooth blue skin, with enormous emotionless eyes and mouths full of razor-sharp teeth.
They lurked in schools within river valleys and ocean currents, the ultimate nightmare for all fishermen and boatmen.
The second painting depicted small, ugly, green-skinned creatures. They congregated in dark forests and caves.
Though individually weak, they were incredibly cunning by nature.
They specialized in deceptive tactics, causing countless adventurers to let down their guard.
Those who underestimated them were defeated and reduced to breeding livestock, forced to bear countless offspring before being devoured completely.
The third painting showed a towering figure that seemed to have walked straight out of the depths of hell.
It had the head of a bull and the body of a man, pitch-black all over, with muscles coiled like stone.
Its two eyes were like a pair of burning blood moons, inspiring infinite terror. Behind it blazed hellfire; beneath its feet, scorched earth.
In the scene, soldiers guarding a watchtower stood only half its height, cowering behind walls and trembling, praying for divine protection.
The fourth painting depicted a massive treasury hidden deep underground.
Countless creatures with dog heads and human bodies wielded pickaxes, each with a flickering candle atop its head. They looked crude and fierce, taking pleasure in tormenting creatures weaker than themselves.
Their king sat on a golden throne, and his bone-deep, innate hunger for wealth revealed their ancient, diluted dragon bloodline.
Orum's gaze slowly shifted away from the four paintings and moved forward.
Opposite the four paintings was a hall as luxurious as a palace court, its main colors gold and emerald, with elegant and noble furnishings. Every piece of furniture looked like a work of art.
By the window, a magical golem with a pitch-black body and glowing blue patterns gracefully drew a bow across violin strings. The melodious music flowed quietly through the air.
In the center of the hall stood a handsome young man with golden hair, wearing a white ceremonial robe made of northern snow-velvet cotton.
On that expensive fabric, ice-blue thread carefully embroidered a soaring eagle, lifelike in detail.
He appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, radiating an innate nobility.
His golden hair gleamed like gold under sunlight, and his flawless features were so handsome that Orum couldn't help but think of Apollo, the sun god from Greek mythology.
Without a doubt, this was the captain of the Ice Hawks, Felix Greymane.
At the moment, Felix stood before the four oil paintings, head tilted, his sharp eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if deep in thought over some complex question.
It wasn't until Raygore's heavy footsteps sounded that he snapped out of his deep contemplation.
Felix's gaze first landed on Raygore's mask, then shifted to Orum's young face. A smile immediately lit up his eyes.
"Captain Felix."
Raygore stopped before Felix and extended his right fist, suspended in midair.
"Thank you for your hard work, my friend."
Felix's eyes curved into pleasant crescents. He raised his own right fist, touching the back of his wrist against Raygore's, their fists forming a crossed position.
This was a common gesture among adventurers, signifying that both parties were trustworthy companions and wishing for their friendship to last forever, unbreakable.
After greeting Raygore, Felix's gaze refocused on Orum, his tone carrying obvious appreciation and cheer:
"So you're the genius swordsman who, at only eighteen, has already honed his swordsmanship to the 'Proficient' level? Orum?"
"The southern kingdom truly produces heroes and hidden dragons. Tell me, where is your hometown?"
"Captain Felix, I'm from Skaritz Village, located about three hundred kilometers north of Blackwater Town.
Both my parents are farmers," Orum replied.
Hearing Orum's answer, a flash of clear surprise crossed Felix's emerald eyes, followed by laughter:
"Hahaha! Young Orum, you really are a commoner. Seems you don't know the first thing about noble etiquette."
"I'm not 'Your Highness.'
That title is reserved only for members of the royal family."
"My family, Greymane, may be an ancient house in the royal capital, but we have no connection to the royal family."
"So, call me 'Captain,' or if you really want to show respect, a simple 'Sir' will do."
Hearing Felix's explanation, Orum realized he'd made a fool of himself and said awkwardly, "I understand. My apologies, Captain Felix."
"No harm done. I never fault anyone for that. After all, commoners' lives don't involve these tedious formalities."
Felix shook his head, then his tone grew more serious:
"Orum, since you're here, it means you've made up your mind to join the Ice Hawks."
"I'm going to ask you one question. Based on your answer, I'll judge whether you're a fit for the current Ice Hawks."
"Alright." Orum took a deep breath and nodded lightly.
Here it comes.
Seeing Orum nod in agreement, Felix said no more. He turned around and walked with elegant, steady steps from the center of the hall toward the four paintings depicting hideous monsters.
"Orum, I'm sure you've already figured it out," Felix began.
"These four paintings depict the four most lethal types of monsters to adventurers in the Misty Forest."
Standing seven meters away, Felix flicked his wrist with a deft motion, and four daggers gleaming with cold silver light appeared in his palm as if by magic.
Felix's voice suddenly turned cold as he called out: "Murloc."
"Thunk!" A dagger flew from his hand, striking dead center in the skull of the blue-skinned creature in the first painting.
"Goblin."
"Thunk!" The dagger hit the tip of the tongue of the snarling green-skinned creature in the second painting.
"Minotaur."
"Thunk!" The dagger struck the fiery red eye of the bull-headed giant in the upper half of the third painting.
"Kobold."
"Thunk!" The dagger hit the center of the fourth painting, landing right in the belly button of the pot-bellied kobold king!
The metal tail fins of the four daggers still hummed softly as Felix turned around, lifting his chin slightly, his emerald eyes staring directly into Orum's.
"My question is simple."
"Orum, murlocs, goblins, minotaurs, kobolds. In your view, which of these four monsters is most lethal to an adventuring party?"
"Four monsters..."
Orum's gaze shifted away from Felix's eyes, past his brilliant golden hair, and returned to examine the four paintings now marked with a "death sentence."
After pondering for several dozen seconds, Orum gave his answer, his voice clear and firm:
"Goblins."
A flash of surprise appeared in Felix's eyes, but his tone remained calm: "Oh? Tell me your reasoning."
"I can't really explain it. Just a gut feeling," Orum replied simply.
The truth was, Orum didn't know much about these four types of monsters.
But he had once seen an assessment on his interface that classified "goblins" as a cross-planar catastrophe.
So Orum had a vague sense that the goblins in this world weren't as simple as they appeared on the surface.
Staring into Orum's eyes, Felix seemed to be looking at something interesting, wanting to peer deeper, as if to see right through him.
After several seconds, Felix's serious expression suddenly melted away like ice and snow, and he smiled broadly:
"Your instincts are sharp. You gave the correct answer."
"Goblins are indeed the greatest threat to low-level adventuring parties. One careless mistake can result in deaths among adventurers, or even total party wipes."
He extended his right hand toward Orum and said:
"You pass. Welcome to the Ice Hawks, Orum."
"Thank you, Captain."
Orum reached out, and his hand clasped firmly with Felix's long, powerful one.
Next, Felix produced two sheets of fine lambskin parchment, two copies of a contract.
The contract detailed the generous benefits of becoming an official member of the Ice Hawks, as well as the obligations that must be observed.
Among them, the most eye-catching benefit was that official Ice Hawks members, as long as they carried out missions normally, would receive a personal stipend of 100 gold coins per month.
This stipend was completely separate from mission rewards. In other words, it was purely Felix's personal salary payment to every core member.
During their conversation, Orum also learned Felix's purpose in forming the Ice Hawks.
"The Greymane family is a dragonborn lineage with silver dragon blood. From the age of three, the dragon blood in my body began to awaken gradually.
The power of magic poured into my soul like a polar storm. I'm destined to awaken as a true dragon-blooded sorcerer before I turn thirty."
Felix sipped the tea in his cup, eyes downcast, speaking slowly to Orum.
At that moment, the violin-playing magical golem had quietly set down its instrument and was serving freshly brewed tea to the three of them.
Its movements were elegant and skillful, so refined that Orum almost mistook it for a living person.
Felix took a small sip, set down the delicate bone china teacup, and continued:
"To awaken the dragon blood within me, I need to battle countless monsters. Therefore, I need an absolutely elite team I can trust to watch my back."
"And when I advance to become a professional, my companions must also be capable of keeping pace with me.
That's why I only recruit adventurers with exceptional talent."
As he spoke, Felix lightly dipped his fingertip into his cup of deep red tea.
Under Orum's astonished gaze, a thin layer of frost spread rapidly from Felix's fingertip as the center, freezing the entire cup of warm tea solid in just a few breaths!
Under the pull of invisible force, the ruby-like block of ice slowly rose, lifting free from the teacup and hovering above Felix's palm.
The crystal-clear ice block slowly rotated. As Felix's will guided it, the front and back sections gradually elongated and transformed, finally shaped into a sharp, hiltless ice blade.
The intense magical fluctuations radiating from the ice blade left Orum with no doubt that, when launched, it could easily pierce through flesh or even heavy armor.
"Ice Blade. One of the prerequisites for my line of sorcerers to assume their class."
Felix seemed to enjoy Orum's astonished attention. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
His right hand slowly clenched into a fist, and the deadly red ice blade in midair instantly shattered into countless fine ice crystals, silently scattering onto the luxurious carpet.
This was the first time Orum had witnessed real magic with his own eyes.
Though the ice blade was never launched, the power it displayed still stirred his spirit. He watched, unable to look away.
When it came time to sign the contract, Orum paused.
His hesitation wasn't because he suspected some conspiracy hidden behind Felix's excessive enthusiasm.
In truth, it was all because Orum himself had displayed proficient-level combat skills, earning recognition for his talent.
After all, a swordsman who, at only eighteen, had already mastered proficient-level combat techniques would be considered a rare genius anywhere in the world, one in ten thousand.
Felix's generous treatment was entirely reasonable.
What Orum was truly hesitating over was something else...
"Should I ask Captain Felix if, during battles, I could be the one to land the final blow on monsters?"
The thought circled in Orum's mind.
More kills meant richer interface rewards, allowing him to grow stronger faster.
But after weighing it all, Orum suppressed the impulse.
Because in this world, there truly existed a deity who held dominion over the "Slaughter" domain. Any behavior associated with "bloodlust" could trigger associations and suspicions.
To avoid drawing too much attention, Orum decided it was better to keep a low profile for now.
As for increasing his kill count, Orum resolved to train his "last-hit" technique, doing his best to secure the final blow on every monster himself.
...
Orum's contract with Felix was for a two-year term.
After two years, if Orum chose not to renew, he could leave the Ice Hawks.
During this period, Orum was not permitted to join other parties, losing a degree of freedom. But in exchange, he would gain wealth and resources that would make any adventurer green with envy.
It was a worthwhile trade. Orum accepted gladly.
As night deepened, Raygore and Orum prepared to take their leave.
Before they left, Felix called out to him:
"Young Orum, go back and get a good night's rest. Tomorrow, we set out to handle a rather thorny commission."
"Two days ago, a remote village was attacked. According to survivors' descriptions, the attackers were a type of goblin never seen before. They... walked out of a door floating in midair."
"A door floating in midair?" Hearing this, Orum froze, his mind racing: "A dimensional gate?"
"Yes, you're thinking correctly." Felix nodded, his emerald eyes glinting with an unusual light, his voice slightly lowered:
"The Adventurers' Guild came to the same conclusion. This also explains why goblins have been overrunning the area recently..."
"They suspect these monsters may very well be from another plane."