60: Chapter 60 New Teammates and Request

Morpheus scratched his head and said, "Before we take on any new missions, I want to introduce someone."

"I've invited a new teammate, she should be arriving soon."

After waiting a moment, the doors to the Adventurers Guild hall were pushed open from the outside.

The two oak doors swung open simultaneously, slamming against the stone walls with two dull, heavy thuds.

Several Adventurers in the hall who had been looking down at mission commissions looked up at once, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman who looked to be around twenty years old, nearly 1.75 meters tall, with a slender yet sturdy build.

She had tight, wheat-colored skin, with faint, hair-thin, silver-blue markings visible on its surface.

Those markings extended from both sides of her collarbone, snaking up along her neck and fading away at her chin.

They were barely visible under normal circumstances, like faint suntan tattoos, but anyone with knowledge of racial lineage would know they weren't tattoos at all.

That was the mark of an awakening Storm Djinn lineage.

Her deep chestnut hair was tied into a neat, high ponytail that swung behind her.

She wore three small silver rings on her left ear, arranged in size order from the earlobe to the cartilage, emitting a faint chiming sound as they brushed against each other with every step she took.

She wasn't wearing the standard white vestments of a cleric; she had altered those robes beyond recognition.

The hem of the robe had been cut to mid-thigh, with slits reaching up to her waist, revealing sturdy thighs strapped with brown leather bands.

At her waist hung an irregular Storm Eye holy symbol, and wrapped around her left wrist was a bracelet made of a dozen or so lightning-struck wood beads of varying sizes; it was said that the more one collected, the stronger their divine magic would be.

She strode up to Morpheus and did something that surprised Richard a little.

She grabbed Morpheus around the waist, pulling him so hard that he tilted to the side, his robe sleeve nearly sweeping items off the table.

A very subtle expression appeared on the silver-haired mage's face—a complex look mixed with embarrassment and helplessness.

"This kid has quite the luck with women! Is being handsome really that popular..." Richard thought gossipingly to himself.

"You guy!" The female cleric pointed at Morpheus's chest with her other hand, her silver eyes turning toward the group at the table, her voice loud and hearty.

"He's known me for years, but every time he comes to Blackwater City, he pretends not to see me."

"If I hadn't chased him down to join the team this time, he probably would've hidden for another year."

"You must be the team he mentioned, right? I'm Selena, a novice cleric of the Storm Temple."

Morpheus gave a light cough and spoke in a tone that tried hard to maintain his dignity:

"Selena and I are... old acquaintances."

"Her novice period at the Storm Temple ends in a year, but her temple mentors suggested she participate in more field missions to gain experience."

"Her divine magic abilities are quite comprehensive, especially in healing and crowd control."

"I personally believe she will be a valuable addition to the team, although her personality is indeed... well, rather extroverted."

"But that is a strength, at least in most situations."

The volume of that last sentence was noticeably lower, as if he were trying to convince himself.

Selena let go of Morpheus's waist and patted his shoulder with enough force to make him stumble half a step forward.

Then she pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing her booted legs, her posture so bold that it felt completely natural in the surroundings.

"Let me officially introduce myself, too. One of the divine spells I've mastered is Shock Healing; it's considered the most basic form of healing. It might sting a bit, but you won't die."

"Breath of the Storm is a group healing spell, but it consumes a lot of energy, so it can't be used casually."

"And there's Storm Sense—you probably haven't heard of this one. I can perceive the outlines of living creatures within thirty meters by sensing changes in air humidity and static electricity. Thick metal doesn't work, though; I can't sense things inside if they're behind an iron door or an iron box."

She paused, a gleam appearing in her silver eyes that only seemed to surface when she was preaching:

"The core doctrine of the Storm Temple: chaotic loss of control is a disaster; a directed storm is power."

"We clerics aren't responsible for comforting people; we're responsible for saying 'May the storm guide you' before turning our enemies into charcoal. So, more often than not, I prefer combat over support."

Richard nodded after she finished speaking.

He hadn't met many clerics. Liam, whom he had known before, was the type who hid behind his teammates and recited prayers.

The female cleric who treated his wounds at the Temple of Wealth was the gentle and professional type, whereas Selena belonged firmly in the category of battle clerics.

This woman's combat style could be discerned just by the way she had modified her vestments.

Having another spellcaster on the team who could both fight and heal was a good thing; the only issue was managing her relationship with Cecilia.

However, since she was a teammate introduced by Morpheus, he felt relatively at ease.

"Then welcome to the team, Selena." Richard said.

Cecilia sat beside Richard, still wearing her veil. She nodded at Selena, by way of greeting.

Selena's eyebrows twitched when she saw Cecilia; she could sense a strange feeling when near her.

It wasn't the aura of a living person, nor was it completely cold, inanimate matter; it was something in between.

But she didn't ask anything. After all, the Free Cities League was home to some law-abiding dark races, and one couldn't paint them all with the same brush.

Just then, a wave of hushed but unmistakably excited discussion came from the direction of the notice board in the Adventurers Guild hall.

Several Adventurers who had just entered were gathered in front of the notice board, craning their necks to look at a newly posted parchment commission.

Richard went over to take a look as well. The commission details were written very concisely, but it looked highly difficult:

A fierce and cunning Manticore was roaming the outskirts of coastal border villages. It didn't care for livestock, preferring to ambush lone travelers and farmers, mocking and torturing its prey with snide, caustic remarks for amusement.

Mission difficulty: Intermediate. Reward: 600 gold coins plus full disposal rights to the Manticore's corpse.

Richard had learned from Baron before that a Manticore's tail stinger could be crafted into an Enchantment dagger or armor-piercing spike, and the accompanying hallucinogenic venom was extremely rare, making for highly precious Enchantment weaponry.

Unfortunately, Richard and his team's current Adventurer rank wasn't high enough to accept it.

A moment later, a tall man wearing a golden breastplate walked out of the crowd, followed by several equally well-equipped teammates, and walked straight to the counter to take down the commission.

The surrounding Adventurers let out a buzz of noise mixed with envy and relief.

This group were all Silver-rank Adventurers; the equipment and demeanor of those people clearly weren't in the same league as novice Adventurers.

Their weapons bore clear Enchantment runes, their breastplates were etched with blade marks from at least dozens of battles, and their gait carried the composure of those who had seen big scenes.