Money can allow you to live comfortably under the rules, while power allows you to establish those rules and harvest wealth.
The former are mostly black market merchants, while the latter are the rulers of the kingdom—the nobility.
But above both of these is something that can trample on both money and power—absolute force that suppresses everything!
This is the source of the Professionals Association's lofty status, and the foundation on which the Church of Dawn and the Church of Truth rely.
The Professionals Association is just like the two churches.
Not only does it have branches spread across the entire continent, but it also boasts the continent's top powerhouses. Although this force is highly decentralized, many experts who have benefited from the association would still step forward if needed.
Unlike the Church of Dawn and the Church of Truth, the Professionals Association is an indispensable part of coordinating and mobilizing existing extraordinary beings.
It is of great help to the stability of the empire. Due to its loose structure, it holds a position in the minds of the empire's decision-makers that far surpasses that of the two churches.
It is treated as a partner to be supported and cooperated with.
“I'm Ogre Kessin. I'm here to find Folke.”
Probably because of a lingering unease in his heart, Ogre rarely came to the Professionals Association. Most of his past missions had been taken from the black market.
Of course, Ogre wasn't the type to avoid the association entirely just because of a minor grudge.
Mainly, he hadn't possessed the strength of a true Professional before, and he didn't care much for the evaluation rewards given to Apprentices. Rather than wasting time on that, he would have rather fought a few more matches in the colosseum.
So Ogre had never gone to get his Professional evaluation.
“You're that Martial Apprentice who defeated Folke and Lange? You're a bit late, though; he just went out.”
Before the receptionist could answer, a heavily armored Professional Knight beat them to the punch and struck up a conversation with Ogre.
The five-star silver badge on his chest indicated his rank—a Silver-grade Senior Professional.
This was the strength evaluation assigned by the Professionals Association.
The stars were not tied to the material of the badge.
The number of stars on a badge represented the Professional's reliability rating. The more stars, the higher their credit rating, their level of professionalism among peers of equal strength, and their renown.
The minimum was zero stars (representing someone who had never taken a mission).
The maximum was nine stars (a level that required accomplishing legendary deeds within one's rank).
These stars were not permanent; neglecting to take missions for a long time or receiving a badge upgrade would reduce the number of stars.
Meanwhile, the material of the badge represented the Professional's strength.
The lowest was the White Porcelain Apprentice badge.
It indicated that the user was still unrated, though they still posed a significant challenge to poorly trained ordinary people.
The Black Iron rank represented that the Professional had officially stepped into the professional realm and mastered extraordinary power.
The next level, Bronze-grade, indicated that the Professional had entered the veteran level of the extraordinary realm—ranking them among the average strongmen. Thus, this grade was also known as the Senior rank.
The standard for the Senior rank was often quite fluid, though overall assessments were still based on the different stages of professional power.
For instance, a Knight who had been knighted and awakened their personal ability.
Or a Mage who had condensed a dark mana core.
And a Martial Artist capable of projecting their vital energy and blood phantom externally—all of these belonged to this rank.
This standard roughly corresponded to a Warlock who had consumed a second forbidden elixir.
At the Silver-grade, the standard became relatively vague. The sole requirement was that the bearer had to be capable of defeating twenty-five Bronze-grade Senior Professionals in a single breath.
Professionals at this tier were called Silver-grade Senior Professionals, also known as High Professionals!
As for anything above that, it wasn't something Ogre could understand yet.
The highest-level Professional he had met so far was Yade. His Silver Discipline Knight badge was fully equivalent to that of a Silver-grade Senior Professional.
This was why Ogre looked forward so much to meeting that mysterious Cleric.
“Just luck. By the way, you are...”
Ogre looked at the face that bore a slight resemblance to Folke and roughly guessed his identity.
“Little guy, I am Folke's third uncle. My name is Laidi Cromie, you can call me Uncle Laidi.” Laidi Cromie's hospitality caught Ogre somewhat by surprise.
Are nobles from the outer cities always this polite?
“Alright, Uncle Laidi. You can just call me Ogre. Did you say Folke went out?” Even if only out of respect for a powerhouse, Ogre felt he wasn't losing anything by calling him uncle.
“Yes, he went to the talent market. He didn't go very far. Is there some business you've come to find him for, Ogre? Folke actually mentioned you to me—he said he wanted to make friends with you.”
Laidi said with a smile. Combined with his gentle tone, his words were absolutely flawless.
He didn't show even a shred of the overbearing arrogance typical of some frontier nobles.
“He invited me to have a drink at a tavern,” Ogre said, scratching the back of his head and acting simple-minded.
Some things didn't need to be stated too explicitly.
“Haha, you frontier folk speak so directly, Ogre. Go find Folke then. He hasn't gone far, so you might even bump into him on the road. Or, if you don't mind, you can wait for him in my lounge.”
Laidi pointed his armored finger toward the lounge inside the Professionals Association—it was a place where Professionals could recover, and the association usually hired Clerics from the Church of Dawn to assist with relaxation and healing there.
The price was a bit steep, but Senior Professionals or those with five stars and above could enter for free.
“The members of the Cromie Family must always take responsibility for their words. He'll definitely treat you to this drink. I think the two of you could become good friends.”
As if fearing Ogre might be too reserved, Laidi added that last line. Statements beginning with one's family name usually carried heavy weight.
“No need, Uncle Laidi. I'll go look for Folke myself; I'm familiar with this place.” Ogre first glanced around the spacious Professionals Association, then waved his hand—gently declining Laidi's invitation.
He didn't want to waste time in a lounge.
Furthermore, one shouldn't accept rewards for nothing.
Ogre didn't want to leave any bad impression on Folke—that would only delay his money-making plans.
“Alright then. I wish you two a pleasant time together. I'll be around here for the next few days, so if you need any help, feel free to look for me.” Laidi's words were very elegant.
But Ogre didn't dare to believe them fully.
If he really asked Laidi to help chop down the Ogre Chief, Ogre felt Laidi would probably beat him up instead.
“Thank you, Uncle Laidi. Goodbye.” Ogre was typical of someone who was highly adaptable, knowing exactly how to sweet-talk different kinds of people.
He possessed a very flexible social compass.
For instance, when dealing with thugs, Ogre preferred using his fists and weapons to communicate.
“Goodbye.” Watching Ogre leave completely, Laidi finally let his smile fade.
“Kessin... What a familiar family name. I'll have to look into it when I get back. I feel like I've heard it somewhere before...”
...
The talent market was a place where Professionals at the Apprentice level and above gathered.
Unlike the Professionals Association, those in the talent market were primarily looking for a stable, long-term position.
In other words, this was a place to find a job.
It was an excellent place for nobles to recruit followers and household servants.
At the same time, it was also a place where various professional adventuring bands recruited teammates and rested.
The largest tavern in the entire city was located right inside the talent market.
Indeed, it was worth mentioning—reputedly, the land the talent market sat on was once a massive slave market.
In a way, its function wasn't all that different; it was just a few shades less bloody.
“Folke!” As soon as Ogre arrived at the talent market, he spotted Folke and Lange.
And how could he not? The two of them were simply too conspicuous.
Because the northern frontier cities had to deal with barbarian and monster invasions, their clothing had historically evolved to be very streamlined. Headwear was almost nonexistent to facilitate combat; even nobles and mages rarely wore decorations.
But Folke and Lange were different. They practically had “rich” written all over their faces.
Oh wait, they literally did have it written on their faces. Never mind, then.
Whether it was Folke's Mage Apprentice robes or Lange's armor, they both looked exceptionally exquisite, complete with embedded gemstones and gold embroidery.
They were starkly different from the utility-driven practical style of the northern frontier.
At the very least, a local Knight Apprentice wouldn't fight without a helmet just to look handsome.
“You are...” Folke hesitated as he looked at Ogre's currently ordinary-looking youthful face.
“I'm Ogre Kessin, the ring defender at the frontier colosseum.”
As soon as Ogre said this,
Folke immediately remembered. Delighted, he welcomed him warmly, “It's you! Come, come, let me buy you a drink at the tavern.”
It wasn't surprising that Folke hadn't recognized him at first.
No one would ever associate this honest-looking, simple youth with “Gourmet”—the fighter who had defeated a horde of Apprentices and claimed the title of Strongest Mortal.
“I want to fight you again!” Having recognized Ogre, Lange immediately challenged him to a duel.
Clearly, he still hadn't forgotten the scene of being floored by a single punch in front of everyone.
It had been incredibly humiliating.
Getting knocked down within two exchanges by an Apprentice of the same rank was an embarrassment no matter how one looked at it.
Of course, more importantly,
Lange believed he had only lost because he was careless.
If he hadn't been ambushed and thrown off by a feint, could he have possibly lost?
He'd even seen Ogre almost break his own fingers when punching Lange's face.
And most importantly—this time, he was wearing his helmet.
“Are you paying? My appearance fee is very expensive,” Ogre smiled indifferently. He would never hold a grudge against money unless there was deep-seated blood vengeance.
“How much?” Lange asked instinctively.
“Lange, quiet down!” Folke rubbed his forehead, genuinely feeling a headache coming on.
Unlike Lange, Folke was not a Knight and did not adhere as closely to the Knight's code. He was well aware that his own defeat had been no accident.
“My apologies, Ogre. Let's head to the tavern first.” Folke glared back at Lange, then apologized to Ogre and extended his invitation.
Under Folke's glare, Lange instantly shut up.
Because he knew Folke was actually a little angry.
Although he had a decent relationship with Folke and could crack minor jokes, the disparity in their statuses was set in stone.
The relationship between Folke's and Lange's families was one of lord and vassal.
This dynamic trickled down to every single member of their respective families.
And Lange was precisely Folke's vassal Knight.
They rose and fell together.
“It's fine. I don't really mind,” Ogre said with a slight smile.
It had to be said that people like Folke were truly hard to dislike.
Even if it was just an act, he indeed carried himself with great elegance.
A guy like him made for a pretty good casual friend.
“I'm very glad you came to meet us, Ogre. I'll cover whatever we spend at the tavern. As for why I invited you here, we can chat about that in a bit.”
Folke made a standard polite gesture of invitation.
“Sure. I won't hold back then.” Since someone else was paying, Ogre certainly had no objections.
As for what Folke wanted to discuss, Ogre already had a rough guess in his mind...
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