Chapter 252 Chapter251-Gathering of Heroes, Leading in Style
Hills smiled warmly at Adam, as if touched by a gentle breeze. "Your aura feels like it originates from the same source as mine. You must be part of the Holy Light Church as well?"
Adam responded with a restrained smile, "Indeed, my class is Paladin."
Hills chuckled, "This familiar essence... could it be you're more than just a simple Paladin? No matter, anyone from my Holy Light Church is a brother to me."
John subtly raised an eyebrow. No wonder Hills held such high esteem within the Holy Light Church. His choice of words was impeccable, naturally drawing people closer to him.
With Hills' introduction complete, the spotlight moved to the mysterious man enveloped in dark robes. "Dragonfang, Head of the Royal Guards. My class is Assassin, Level 350!"
The man's voice was raspy, as if grinding against metal. It was unclear whether the hoarseness was from an injury or inherent.
John cast him a brief look, silently thinking, "Ah, an Assassin. That would explain the ominous air around him."
After Dragonfang spoke, Saphir erupted into hearty laughter as he stood. "Brothers, my name is Saphir. I'm currently a steward in the Mercenary Guild. My class is a Fire Element Mage, Level 300. Compared to the high-level folks here, I'm somewhat embarrassed, haha!"
Saphir's infectious laughter filled the entire war room, drawing sidelong glances from those around him. Evidently, several people in the room were quite familiar with him.
As soon as his voice faded, someone jovially teased, "Mages are a prestigious class, and leveling up is among the most challenging. Mr. Saphir, with your words, you've just insulted all of us under Level 300!"
Saphir chuckled sheepishly, "I didn't mean it that way. As you all know, I have a vendetta that runs as deep as the sea. My aim for coming here is to earn merits to exchange for the Empire's support…"
Duke Dinan, seemingly unable to bear it any longer, waved his hand to cut Saphir off. "Enough. You're veering off-topic, as verbose as ever. Next!"
A voluptuous, alluring mature woman slowly rose to her feet, an aura of enchantment radiating from her.
"Greetings to all the masters here. I am Lady Luxuria, or you can simply call me Luxuria. My class is Enchantress, Level 289. My primary role is to provide aftercare for you gentlemen. I trust you'll all take good care of me."
Her voice was tinged with an irresistible allure, and her every move seemed effortlessly beguiling.
Being the only woman in the team, and such a stunning one at that, she was naturally the object of much adoration.
As Lady Luxuria's voice faded away, two sycophants couldn't wait to chime in: "My lady, you're too modest. You are our logistical support; your role is as important as any."
"Yes, yes, a lady as beautiful as you should never sully her hands with violence. Leave your safety to us!"
A smile from Lady Luxuria filled the room with an invisible perfume. "I'll thank all of you in advance then," she cooed.
With a slight bow, she showcased the perfect curvature of her form. A glance her way stirred the blood.
Of course, not everyone was susceptible to her charms. For instance, Saphir, the boisterous and blunt fire mage.
"Lady Luxuria, could you tone down the seductive aura? It's suffocating me."
Saphir complained, covering his nose.
John had to stifle a laugh, while others mentally cursed Saphir for his lack of appreciation for the finer things.
Lady Luxuria seemed unfazed, casting a flirtatious glance at Saphir. Her eyes sparkled like pools of spring water...
Next, the Berserker who had previously clashed with John nervously stepped forward.
Puffing out his exaggerated chest, he looked like a moving fortress, exuding an indomitable strength.
Unfortunately, due to his recent defeat at John's hands, his actions lacked their usual persuasive power.
"I am Balga, a Berserker," he growled, his voice thunderous like rolling thunder, reverberating in everyone's ears. "I am Level 295, and I currently serve in the military!"
No sooner had Balga's words settled when Saphir piped up again, "Honestly, you seem more like the Heavy Tank class—perfect for absorbing damage on the battlefield. You alone could probably block three lanes..."
Blood rushed to Balga's head; he slammed his palm on the table with a resounding thud. "You, a mage who likes to use his fists, dare to challenge me?"
Saphir was not one to back down; he too slapped the table and stood up angrily. "What? You got a problem? Believe me, I could roast you into a chicken with one fireball!"
The room looked on, bewildered. Surprisingly, in terms of physique, Saphir didn't seem much less imposing than Balga. So what audacity did he have to mock an over-muscular Berserker? Are mages built like this now?
At this point, John couldn't hold back a light chuckle.
The sound drew the attention of everyone present; all eyes turned toward him. John quickly composed himself, saying, "Sorry, couldn't help myself."
Faces around the room only grew more puzzled.
Duke Dinan, sitting at the head of the table, pinched the bridge of his nose, weariness coloring his expression.
Had he made the right choice bringing these oddballs together?
Could he really rely on them to hunt Devils that were near-godlike in power?
Duke Dinan sank into a morass of self-doubt.
Meanwhile, Saphir and Balga continued to trade insults across the table.
If not for the intervention of those beside them, fists would surely have flown by now.
Finally, after a tenuous lull, a stern-faced middle-aged man rose. Somewhat awkwardly, he spoke, "Alcys, Spellblade class, Level 345..."
A longsword was strapped to Alcys' back; its slender blade tightly wrapped in silk, leaving only the hilt exposed.
John arched an eyebrow. He hadn't expected this seemingly average middle-aged man to be one of the highest-leveled members of their team, second only to Dragonfang.
Judging by the reactions around the room, it seemed that Alcys commanded a certain respect.
Even the hot-tempered Balga and Saphir subtly nodded in acknowledgment as he introduced himself. Duke Dinan even broke into a smile.
It was as if Alcys had an identity that was anything but ordinary.
Noticing John's puzzled look, Duke Dinan elaborated with a smile, "Mister Alcys is a point of pride for our Northern Myst Empire. You, being an ascetic, should be far removed from worldly concerns, yet you've chosen to join us in hunting Devils. It's truly an honor for us."
Clearly, Duke Dinan's explanation was meant for John, who wasn't familiar with the context. John finally understood—Alcys was an ascetic. No wonder he commanded such respect.
Being an ascetic wasn't a class but rather a designation for a specific group of humans on Godslayer Continent.
They were disinterested in material things, had no worldly desires, and their training usually took place in the most grueling of conditions.
Conditions that often meant being scantily clad and going without water for days.
They honed their minds through such intense training, striving for a state of unity with nature.
But to John, these people seemed more like madmen—abandoning everything in their training to become nothing but unyielding, odoriferous rocks.
At the same time, John found himself wondering about Duke Dinan's sudden expression of goodwill. What exactly was going on?
Even when facing Duke Dinan, a man of significant status within the empire, Alcys' voice remained stoic, "When the survival of humanity is at stake, one cannot stand idly by."
Duke Dinan responded with a soft chuckle and a nod.
"Yunis, Archer class, Level 286."
A strikingly handsome young man continued the introductions.
The pointed ears peeking out from beneath his long hair suggested he had some elven lineage—a mixed race not uncommon on the Godslayer Continent.
After all the NPC powerhouses had introduced themselves, it was finally time for John and his companions.
Everyone's ears perked up; they were eager to know the identities of these three young people, especially John, who had piqued their curiosity.
Under the watchful eyes of the room, Blue Sea and Adam reluctantly stood up.
"My name is Blue Sea, my class is Water Mage, Level 94."
"Adam, Paladin class, Level 90."
The room was struck dumb.
They never expected that such greenhorns, not even level 100, had found their way into this elite squad designed for hunting Devils.
Before anyone could voice their astonishment, they heard John's languid voice, "I'm Galewind. As for my class, consider me an Assassin, I suppose. As for my level, let's just say you can treat me as if I'm around 500 or 600."
The war room fell into stunned silence.
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