Gauss could clearly feel the weight of the staff—simple, solid black metal, completely unadorned.
And its defining trait? Pure hardness.
Yeah, this was one weird staff.
While most staffs enhanced spell power, sped up casting, or extended magic range, this one? None of that.
It only slightly boosted defensive spells—and was absurdly durable.
It honestly didn't feel magical at all.
Bulky, heavy, and the only real "advantage" was how much it resembled a melee weapon.
If it were wielded by a caster with high physical strength and decent close-combat capability, it would be amazing.
As the others sensed the staff's properties, they all turned to look at Gauss.
Only two spellcasters were present.
And Lawrence, with his frail build, had no chance of wielding something nearly 1.8 meters long made of solid metal.
Gauss, on the other hand, was the perfect fit—especially since he specialized in defensive magic. It was like the thing was made for him.
"Gauss, that staff suits you. Take it," Lawrence said after a moment. The others glanced around and nodded.
"Yeah, go on. Try it."
They all knew who had carried the team through that last fight.
Forget a weird staff—even if it were a universal-use item, no one felt right competing with Gauss over it.
Gauss nodded in thanks and hopped up onto the pedestal.
He grasped the staff's matte grip with both hands and pulled it free.
First impression: heavy.
But manageable. His body was strong enough to handle it.
He gave it a few test swings.
There was a distinct feeling of balance and steadiness.
Still, the most important thing was whether the staff could channel magic.
If not, it'd be nothing more than a blunt weapon—handy, but not ideal.
Gauss remembered how picky his mana could be. Back when he tried syncing with a wand from Andeni's, it had taken him forever to get a match.
So—would it sync?
He channeled his magic into the staff.
To his surprise, it flowed in smoothly.
No resistance. No rejection. Just a clean, easy connection.
...Wait, seriously?
Was his magic just snobbish? Would it only sync with weird, off-brand gear like his bone wand and now this heavy metal beast?
Hard to say.
So far, the only two staffs that had accepted his mana were both oddballs.
"Light."
Low on mana, he cast a basic illumination spell.
The staff pulsed, and a clean white light radiated from its head.
Success.
Gauss let out a breath of relief.
Sure, it didn't channel spells quite as smoothly as the bone wand, and there were no casting buffs, but hey—it doubled as a club. That alone made it worthwhile.
Behind him, Lawrence looked up at Gauss standing on the pedestal, bathed in Light. The envy was clear in his eyes, but it was mixed with quiet acceptance.
He didn't know the staff's exact value, but considering how powerful that mantis had been, this could very well be the most valuable loot from the whole dungeon.
Still... what could he say? Gauss had saved their lives. And besides, the staff obviously wasn't made for someone like him—it was tailor-made for someone like Gauss.
That got Lawrence thinking about something he'd heard: some say the ruins and dungeons of the Forgotten Kingdom adapt to their challengers—shaping enemies and rewards around those who enter.
If that was true, then the fact that this final reward felt custom-fit for Gauss probably meant the dungeon didn't even think the rest of them were worth factoring into the equation.
A little depressing, honestly.
Suddenly—RUMBLE.
The dungeon began to shake.
"Time to go."
It felt like the place was about to collapse.
The group quickly gathered their things. They carried the injured Liam and retrieved Bianca's body. They had no time to linger.
Following the sloped passage, they finally made it back to the surface.
BOOM!
The ground trembled again.
They turned to see the massive stone pillars around the dungeon entrance sink rapidly into the earth—then disappear completely.
It was over.
The six-day dungeon crawl had ended. One person injured. One dead.
It took them two whole days to process the loot.
And the haul? Way more valuable than Gauss had expected—worth 27 gold coins total.
As agreed, Lawrence took about five coins—he had organized the run, paid for intel and transportation, and fronted most of the logistics.
No one argued.
Gauss got four gold coins—not counting the magic staff—which made him the biggest winner by far.
The rest of the team each got around three and a half gold coins. A major payday for everyone.
The four coins alone were the biggest payout Gauss had ever received.
Back at the tavern where it all started, the six gathered again.
Gauss sipped on apple cider, eyes on Lawrence.
"What about Bianca's share? I remember she left behind some info on his next-of-kin," Gauss asked casually.
No one had expected Bianca to die—but since she had, they needed to take care of things properly.
While the party was technically a one-time team, everyone but Gauss knew each other beforehand. It wasn't a total strangers' group.
"Yeah," Lawrence nodded. "My family's caravan is heading through her hometown soon. I'll make sure her body and the gold get delivered. Personally."
His voice was heavy. He clearly didn't know how he'd face Bianca's parents.
"Thanks," Gauss replied. He hadn't known Bianca well—just asking out of concern. Since Lawrence already had a plan, there was no need to press further.
"Three and a half gold coins, if they use it wisely, could support his family for a long time," Edith sighed. A small blessing in the midst of tragedy.
At least Bianca left something behind—not like those nameless adventurers whose corpses rot in some field, never recovered, and whose families suffer both grief and poverty.
She turned to Gauss. Her dark-ringed eyes shimmered with something indescribable.
"You're close to becoming a full-fledged professional, aren't you?"
Even now, she still found it hard to believe. Two days ago, Gauss had killed a monster that typically required a real professional to beat.
She still had nightmares about the mantis—every night, she dreamt of being decapitated by its claws. Sometimes, she wondered if surviving this was just the last illusion before death.
"Yeah." Gauss nodded.
He glanced at his adventurer's panel.
Mage Armor Lv3 (49/50)
He'd spent the last two days back at the Spellcaster Mutual Aid Association, squeezing in as much training as possible.
The others looked both stunned and deeply envious.
Becoming a "professional"—an official, ranked adventurer—was the dream for every trainee.
Apprentices and professionals lived in completely different worlds.
In fact, back when the guild was first founded, there wasn't even such a thing as an "unranked" adventurer.
Only professionals could register.
To the higher-ups back then, apprentices were just glorified amateurs. Bringing them in was seen as pointless.
A single real adventurer could do what dozens of trainees couldn't.
If not for the increasing frequency of monster outbreaks and minor commissions being ignored by professionals, the guild probably would've never lowered the bar.
Even now, most guild perks and benefits only kick in at Bronze rank and above.
Unranked adventurers like them? Still considered unofficial.
"Man, I'm jealous," Liam muttered, too injured to drink and hunched over his food.
"You guys are probably close too," Gauss shrugged. "Worst case? Hire a professional trainer. Three and a half coins is plenty for a few sessions."
Liam chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I was thinking that too."
Then he winced and sucked in a sharp breath—he must've pulled a healing wound.
"Still... you can't just throw money at a promotion. You need talent, effort, and luck."
"Only if you don't have enough money," Edith countered. "The elite kids just brute-force it—potions, artifacts, private tutors. Boom. Instant prodigy."
The table went quiet—even Edith, who'd spoken, looked awkward.
No one here had that kind of background. Even the "wealthy" one, Lawrence, wasn't in that league.
They'd all fought tooth and nail for every bit of progress—while some people were born with roads paved in gold.
It was hard not to be bitter.
"By the way, Gauss—" Lawrence suddenly turned to him like he remembered something.