As the sky grew dark, the leaden clouds pressed lower, and the light snow turned into heavy flakes that fell silently.
The pedestrians on the streets had almost vanished, leaving only a few scattered oil lamps flickering in the wind and snow to cast a dim, yellow glow.
Jiang Lin did not head directly to the Cliffside Tavern, choosing instead to find a reasonably clean inn to stay in first.
The inn was named Icy Breath, another stone building with small but warm rooms.
The walls were embedded with crude constant-temperature runes, and although they were far less effective than his protective suit, they at least blocked out the freezing wind from outside.
Jiang Lin took a short break in the room, eating some dry rations with hot water, then sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed to circulate his breathing technique while sorting through his information.
"Everfrost Wasteland... frost ghosts..."
His fingers unconsciously tapped on his knee.
It was about three hundred and sixty kilometers from Frost Ridge Fort to the border of the Tundra Kingdom.
The harsh environment, lurking monsters, and unpredictable terrain made it difficult for ordinary caravans and adventurers to cross.
However, for the current Jiang Lin, whose combat strength was comparable to the peak of the 4th-rank, this was not insurmountable.
The real issue was efficiency.
If he crossed alone, he would need to spend a lot of time scouting the path and dealing with sudden dangers, and the consumption of his physical strength and magic essence would increase drastically.
If he had a guide or a caravan familiar with the route, he could save a lot of trouble.
Jiang Lin sighed, not expecting his journey to find a master to be so difficult.
But looking at it from another perspective, the scenery he saw on these roads and the things he experienced were all assets that would make him stronger.
While he could steadily and safely grow stronger in an academy, the things he could learn there were too academic.
For instance, a fragmented king-tier movement technique with super-tier power like 【Phantom Step · Shadow Wind】 would never appear in the collection of a middle or high magic academy.
This was because most of these academies focused on stability and safety; allowing students to learn risky skills might cause unnecessary trouble.
Furthermore, the skills in an academy's library generally only went up to the super-tier at most.
The higher king-tier, emperor-tier, and forbidden spells required adventurers to travel and collect them in the outside world.
That was why masters like Master Antonio traveled the world in their younger years.
Now, Jiang Lin was also taking the opportunity of his journey to the Northern Ice Field to experience traveling in the outside world.
He could also try to collect some skills that could not be obtained within an academy.
...
"Now, I still need to check out the tavern."
Jiang Lin opened his eyes, his golden pupils glowing faintly in the dim room.
Outside the window, the wind and snow grew even more intense.
The Cliffside Tavern was located at the northernmost end of Frost Ridge Fort, right against the base of the city wall.
It was said that there was a hundred-meter-deep glacial cliff just outside the tavern's backyard, hence the name.
When Jiang Lin pushed open the heavy iron-clad wooden door, a wave of heat mixed with the smell of sweat, strong liquor, and blood hit him.
The interior of the tavern was even more rugged and chaotic than the Breath of Tundra.
The main hall had no tables or chairs, only several rows of rough wooden benches, with dirty straw mats covering the floor.
Animal skulls and rusted weapons hung on the walls, and the firewood in the fireplace burned fiercely, lighting up coarse faces weathered by alcohol and the elements.
The people here were clearly more dangerous—one-eyed mercenaries, fugitives with facial tattoos, and fierce-eyed hunters wrapped in beast skins.
They gathered in small groups, talking in low voices or drinking silently, every gaze carrying undisguised vigilance and scrutiny.
Jiang Lin's appearance immediately drew attention.
His overly clean appearance and striking blond hair and golden eyes were completely out of place here.
Several hostile gazes fell on him, as if they were sizing up a lamb for the slaughter.
Jiang Lin ignored them and walked straight to the bar.
The bartender was a one-armed man with a hideous scar across his face, wiping a wooden cup with his only remaining hand.
"What are you drinking?"
He did not even look up, his voice as raspy as sandpaper.
"Hot ale."
Jiang Lin pushed a silver coin over.
"Also, I'm looking for some information—are there any northbound teams recently that are short on hands?"
The bartender lifted his eyelid, a flicker of mockery in his single eye.
"Kid, with that fair skin of yours, are you heading north to die?"
"That is my business."
Jiang Lin's tone was calm.
The bartender stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned, revealing a row of yellowed and blackened teeth.
"Fine. In that corner over there, the short guy in the grizzly bear skin is called Old Weasel. He's a broker. He knows the most about northbound jobs. But..."
He lowered his voice.
"That old thing is black-hearted and ruthless. Watch out so you don't get scammed until there's nothing left of you."
Jiang Lin nodded, thanked him, and then picked up his drink and walked toward the corner of the tavern.
Northbound caravans likely did not take extra passengers just for the ride.
To follow them north, one needed to be able to be useful during the journey.
Old Weasel lived up to his name—he was short and huddled in a bulky gray bear-skin coat, revealing only a sharp, monkey-like face. His eyes were small as beans and darted around with calculated shrewdness.
He was talking in low voices with two mercenaries who looked like they were made of muscle. Seeing Jiang Lin approach, he immediately stopped talking and squinted to size him up.
"Does this young brother have some business?"
Old Weasel's voice was high-pitched with a fawning smile, but his eyes were repeatedly scanning Jiang Lin.
"I heard you have some northbound jobs."
Jiang Lin got straight to the point.
"Northbound jobs?"
Old Weasel rubbed his hands together, his small eyes scanning Jiang Lin from top to bottom.
"There are some, but... young brother, looking at you, you don't seem like someone who often runs to the north.
"The Everfrost Wasteland is no joke. Blizzards, ice crevices, frost ghosts... any one of those can take a life."
"Give me a price."
Jiang Lin did not want to waste words.
Old Weasel's eyes darted around.
"As it happens, there's a small team that just took an escort mission to deliver a batch of Blaze Crystals to Blackrock Town in the Tundra Kingdom.
"They're short a capable guard. The pay is thirty gold coins, paid in full upon arrival. But..."
He paused, showing a difficult expression.
"Their captain has high standards; he needs to test your skills. If you can't pass, you won't be able to take this job."
"How is it tested?"
"Simple."
Old Weasel tilted his chin toward the center of the tavern.
There was a crude arena—really just a patch of empty ground cordoned off with straw ropes, with dark red stains still lingering on the floor.
"See that big guy? He's called Anvil, and he's one of the reserve members of that team. If you can last three minutes against him, you pass."
Jiang Lin followed his gaze.
Standing by the arena was a giant over two meters tall, as bulky as a bear, with a bald head, coarse features, and a bare torso covered in scars and knotted muscles.
He stood with his arms crossed, his fierce gaze scanning the tavern as if looking for the next challenger.
"That's... a 4th-rank warrior."
Jiang Lin could clearly sense the surging blood and combat qi fluctuations within the man.
Although his aura was a bit floaty, clearly boosted by drugs or special means, his 4th-rank strength was genuine.
In a place like Frost Ridge Fort, a 4th-rank was already considered top-tier combat power.
Old Weasel watched Jiang Lin's expression. Seeing that he remained unfazed, he laughed inwardly—this blond kid probably didn't realize how terrifying Anvil was.
Although Anvil was only at the early stage of the 4th-rank, he was born with divine strength and had a violent fighting style, having once literally torn apart three opponents of the same rank in the arena.
This kid was so delicate that he probably couldn't even take one punch.
"So? Do you dare to try?"
Old Weasel intentionally goaded him.
Jiang Lin did not answer, simply draining the ale in his cup, setting it down, and walking toward the arena.
The noise in the tavern gradually died down.
Everyone's gaze focused on the blond youth who suddenly walked toward the arena.
"Someone else who isn't afraid to die wants to challenge Anvil?"
"Tsk, where did this pretty boy come from? Does he have a death wish?"
"Place your bets! I bet he won't last a minute!"
Laughter, whistling, and the sound of betting rose one after another.
Anvil also noticed Jiang Lin. He opened his large mouth, revealing white teeth.
"Kid, you want to fight me?"
Jiang Lin stopped at the edge of the arena and looked at him calmly.
"Three minutes, right?"
Anvil burst into a wild laugh that shook the dust off the ceiling.
"Good! You've got guts! But I'll say this upfront.
"Once you're in the arena, life and death are your own responsibility! If I accidentally kill you, don't blame me!"
Jiang Lin nodded and stepped into the circle cordoned off by the straw ropes.
Anvil cracked his neck with a loud pop and slammed his fists together, creating a visible shockwave of air.
"Kid, don't say I'm bullying you.
"I'll let you make the first move!"
Jiang Lin did not hesitate.
He tapped his toe lightly on the ground.
In the next moment, his figure vanished from the spot like a ghost.
Anvil's pupils shrank—so fast!
He didn't even see how the other person moved. Before he knew it, a golden blur had already reached him!
"Bang!"
A dull thud echoed.
Anvil felt as if his chest had been hit head-on by a battering ram. The violent force surged through him, shaking his internal organs until they almost shifted out of place!
His massive body staggered backward uncontrollably, taking seven or eight steps before he finally managed to steady himself, a burning pain radiating from his chest.
The tavern fell into an instant silence.
Everyone's eyes widened and their mouths hung open as if they were seeing something impossible.
That delicate blond youth... pushed Anvil back with a single punch?
And that was while Anvil was prepared?
The cup in Old Weasel's hand hit the floor with a clang, spilling liquor everywhere.
He stared blankly at the arena, his mind a complete void.
Anvil was both shocked and enraged. He let out a wild roar, his muscles bulging as earth-colored magic essence erupted from his body, forming a thick layer of armor on his skin.
"Kid! You're dead!"
Like a maddened giant bear, he kicked off the ground, cracking the floor, and launched himself at Jiang Lin like a cannonball. His right fist, wrapped in violent combat qi, smashed toward Jiang Lin's face!
This punch was enough to shatter refined iron!
Jiang Lin, however, still stood in place, his expression calm.
Only at the moment the fist was about to touch the tip of his nose did he slightly tilt his body.
"Whoosh!"
Anvil's fist grazed past his cheek, the wind it carried ruffling his blond hair.
At the same time, Jiang Lin's right hand shot out like a snake, his fingers hooking precisely around Anvil's wrist.
"Crack!"
A crisp sound of bone breaking rang out.
Anvil let out a piercing scream as his right wrist twisted at a bizarre angle, the magic essence on his fist instantly dissipating.
Jiang Lin followed the momentum with a pull and a push.
Anvil's massive body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, slamming hard against the tavern's stone wall.
"Boom!"
The wall cracked, and rubble tumbled down.
Anvil slumped to the ground, blood leaking from his nose and mouth, his right arm hanging limp, clearly ruined.
The tavern was deathly silent.
Everyone looked like ducks being choked by the neck, their eyes bulging as they looked at the golden figure on the arena in disbelief.
A total shutdown?
"Is that all?"
Old Weasel's legs went weak, and he almost knelt on the floor.
He knew that he had kicked a steel plate this time.
Jiang Lin slowly pulled back his hand and turned his gaze to Old Weasel.
"Now, can I meet that captain?"
Old Weasel snapped out of it and came scurrying over, his face covered in a fawning smile.
"Yes! Of course! This way, Excellency! The captain is in the private box upstairs!"
He no longer dared to have any petty thoughts.
This blond youth was absolutely someone he could not afford to offend!
Jiang Lin gave him a faint glance and stepped forward to follow.
The crowd in the tavern automatically parted to make a path, and every gaze directed at Jiang Lin was filled with awe and fear.
On the second floor of the Cliffside Tavern, the corridor was narrow and dark. A few oil lamps hung on the walls, their flames flickering in the draft and casting distorted shadows.
Old Weasel led Jiang Lin to a heavy wooden door at the very end. The door was studded with iron rivets and carved with rugged beast patterns. He knocked cautiously, his voice trembling slightly.
"Boss... a, a newcomer is here."
"Come in."
A low male voice came from inside, sounding calm but carrying an undeniable authority.
Old Weasel pushed open the door and signaled for Jiang Lin to enter, while he himself shrank back outside, not daring to follow.
The private box was much more spacious than the hall downstairs. Complete frost wolf skins and several well-maintained weapons hung on the walls.
The fireplace was burning brightly, its warmth dispelling the chill from outside.
Three people sat around a heavy oak table.
In the main seat was a middle-aged man around forty years old. His face was cold, with a scar running diagonally across his brow bone, and his gaze was as sharp as an eagle's.
He wore deep gray leather armor and had a dull, dark short sword hanging at his waist. His aura was steady, marking him as a powerhouse at the peak of the 4th-rank.
To his left was a tall woman with fiery red hair, appearing to be in her thirties. She wore tight-fitting leather armor with two scimitars at her waist, and her eyes held a look of scrutiny and vigilance.
To the right was an elderly man with white hair and a hunched figure, wrapped in thick furs. He held a yellowed notebook and was looking down at something.
The middle-aged man's gaze fell on Jiang Lin. After a moment of scrutiny, he spoke.
"You're the one who just defeated Anvil downstairs?"
"I am."
Jiang Lin answered calmly.
"I am the captain of this team. You can call me Frostblade."
The middle-aged man pointed to the woman on his left.
"She is Red Flame, responsible for scouting and reconnaissance."
He then pointed to the old man.
"This is Old Scholar, responsible for navigation and intelligence analysis."
Red Flame raised an eyebrow and spoke bluntly.
"You don't look like someone who often runs to the north. What's your background?"
"A traveler from the Saintas Kingdom, heading to the Tundra Kingdom."
Jiang Lin answered briefly.
"Your reason?"
"Why are you asking all this?"
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