The importance of knowledge

"You guys should stop messing around and prepare for the expedition," a commanding voice resounded from the mouth of a charming gentleman with blonde hair. He walked forward sharply, his hand loosely resting on the sword at his side.

He looked like a noble scion of the most influential and classic families. Right from the way he breathed to how he walked, everything was just perfect, as if he had trained in this.

Looking around, he seemed amiable, but behind his eyes was pure and utter disdain.

Fraternizing with the lowly peasants of the outskirts was beneath him. However, he really had no choice. At this stage, power mainly lay in numbers, not skill. They needed these wannabe Slayers to tag along, if not they wouldn't even get access to the clearing zone.

"Please, time is running out! We don't want to miss out on the first group!!" Seemingly frustrated, this young man with blonde hair screamed at those around, trying to get them prepared on time.

It was still early but they needed to get there out as fast as possible so as to reap maximum benefits.

"So incompetent," he muttered, raising his hand to his temple and gently massaging it. These guys were frustrating to lead.

"Hey, are you part of the clearing team? I'm looking for Barthold."

All of a sudden, a hand poked his shoulder from the side, startling him as he turned to see who had touched him.

"Ah? Are you good, kid?" He was first taken aback, and after looking closely at the individual, he was more or less shocked. The boy was covered in blood stains!

The ragged clothes didn't help matters either, making him appear far worse. Of course, Guilliman had little control over this, as he didn't have a lot of clothes. Even after washing this one thoroughly, it still bore blood stains.

"Sigh, I'm okay. Thank you," Guilliman said.

'Remind yourself to get better clothes,' he thought in his mind. As soon as he had enough money, he'd go shopping for something more fitting for a Slayer.

"Ahh, okay," the blonde nodded, then, without a second thought, walked away as if Guilliman wasn't even there. His mind registered only the blood stains, not Guilliman's presence.

Seeing this happen, Guilliman could only frown and scan his surroundings. He wasn't mistaken—this was the place explicitly stated by Barthold when they departed from the test area.

Being a Slayer was one thing, but being a successful one was another. He'd love the thought of clearing areas by himself and coming out on top, but that just wasn't how things worked.

A clear example was the situation with the Blackberry family's heir. To take down the sacred direwolf, they had not only expended dozens of slaves but also members of their own house.

Just the journey into the forest was perilous, filled with beasts lurking at every turn.

He couldn't do this alone, at least not yet.

"Oh, maybe she'll know," he muttered, his gaze landing on a young girl with silver hair and a cold, distant expression. She sat on a rock ten meters away. Without hesitation, he walked toward her.

"Hello there, please can you point me to Barthold?" Guilliman was straightforward, not lingering with even the slightest bit of shyness.

She was a beautiful lady, but what manner of beauty had he not seen before? To him, she was just another girl.

"Ehn?" The girl's expression broke as she looked up at the young man in blood-stained clothes standing before her.

She was taken aback at first by the stains, then by how direct this boy was. Clearly, he was new here, so why was he addressing her so casually?

Of course, she didn't know that her companions had ignored him. If she had, she'd have realized he was unaware of her status.

"Barthold, big guy, heavy armor," Guilliman doubled down, trying to get the information from her. He was beginning to get frustrated with these people. What was so hard about pointing him in the right direction?

"Oh, the ironback boy. He's inside the forest scouting the immediate area," she finally answered, realizing she was being insufferable.

"Don't worry. He'll be out soon," she added, breaking into an awkward and forced smile. Except for formalities, no one here had really spoken to her like this.

"Ahh, I see him already." Looking through the chained fence, Guilliman spotted Barthold slowly walking toward the gate. Without hesitation, he walked forward to greet him.

'He didn't even say goodbye,' the young lady thought, smirking bitterly as she watched Guilliman walk off without a care in the world. In the back of her mind, she felt a unique sensation emanating from him, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

…

"Ah? Brother Guilliman?! You finally made it!" Spotting Guilliman's small, scruffy figure at the gate, Barthold's face lit up. He smiled with excitement and jogged forward.

"You made it," he said, pulling Guilliman into a hug that stunned him for a moment. Guilliman felt himself eclipsed and consumed by Barthold's sheer size and strength.

'He got so much taller in such a short period,' Guilliman thought, feeling the life nearly squeezed out of him. Becoming a Slayer usually came with increased physical constitution, especially for someone like Barthold, who had high physical talent.

"Yes, I was finally able to leave the house," Guilliman replied with a smile as the hug disengaged. The issue with his "family" had cost him two weeks of precious growth time he couldn't afford to lose.

"You've grown stronger," Guilliman remarked, looking up at the burly young man before him. Barthold had nearly crushed him just now. Clearly, he had grown much stronger.

'Already at level 2, huh? Two weeks is a long time for geniuses,' Guilliman thought.

He could see Barthold's basic stats quite easily, unlike others. This was because the system connected to everyone in the sanctuaries was directly bonded with their souls.

As such, anyone with a powerful enough soul could discern the levels of those below them. Fortunately for Guilliman, that was the majority of people. After all, he was blessed with the legendary heavy soul.