After gaining the "Draconic" trait, Gauss realized the cooldown on Breath Casting had dropped sharply, and using it felt noticeably easier.
To get truly comfortable with it, he simply spammed it.
Cloud of Daggers, Azure Magic Bolts, and Crimson Flames swept through the web-shrouded ettercap nest in overlapping waves.
The other two ettercaps were quickly pinned down by his teammates.
Once Alia's control spells locked them in place, Albena charged with a shout and swung her massive axe in a rough but vicious arc, chopping off their limbs and bloated abdomens.
All that was left were two upper torsos, writhing and howling in place.
Their shrieks of pain also kept the etter thrall spiders from retreating.
Gauss hovered in the air like a spell turret, sniping spiders with precise, surgical shots.
…
"Magic Missile!"
Gauss spat out two blue orbs.
Mana exploded in a shower of light, and the last lingering ettercap finally met its end in a burst of magical fireworks.
"It's over."
His body descended slowly from the sky.
His breathing was faintly uneven.
Casting spells at high frequency for a long time—even if most of them were just simple cantrips—still put strain on both mind and body.
Honestly, even many higher-level casters might not manage the kind of practical output he'd just shown.
Powerful mages might wield stronger or rarer spells, but when it came to the smooth, relentless use of low-level magic, few could match Gauss now.
There's a saying: every craft has its specialist. When it came to slaughtering small fry, Gauss was the pro.
His spellcasting fluency had literally been built atop towering piles of monster corpses.
Learning how to kill monsters with the least effort, the least mana, and the fastest pace—that was a discipline in itself.
It's not always about nuking things with maximum force.
If he vaporized the entire nest in one massive blast and left nothing but ash, there'd be no corpses, no loot, and how would he register any points?
So you had to kill with rhythm, with a plan.
"Next…"
Gauss looked over at Maggie, who sat on Silverfang's back, staring blankly into space.
In his eyes, she already counted as excellent for a normal person.
Compared to farmers and craftsmen, hunters tended to be physically superior; they had to move through the wilds constantly, set traps, and stalk prey. That lifestyle honed courage, observation, and curiosity—traits many future adventurers shared.
Come to think of it, his original body had been a half-baked hunter.
He was pretty sure he'd started out worse off than the huntress before him.
Gauss hesitated, but didn't walk over.
Instead, he left the silence for her—to let her sit with the grief and try to absorb it on her own.
Death, loss, losing family… any words here felt thin. Only time could dull those edges.
"Serandur, check the area. Make sure there aren't any egg clusters left."
…
After he gave out instructions, Gauss started on his own post-battle cleanup.
There wasn't much worth salvaging—mostly just parts from the two ettercaps.
Their silk glands were worth something.
Beyond that, a few key organs.
When all was said and done, his points had climbed to 1,372.
In this commission, the three ettercaps had given 50 points each, for a total of 150.
Add the 315 points from the etter thrall spiders, and he'd pulled in 465 points altogether.
His personal kill count had risen to 8,615.
And on top of that, he'd gained the new racial trait Draconic. All in all, a pretty generous haul.
After cleaning his teammates up with a few handy spells, he took another look at the mess of bodies scattered everywhere, then shook his head and shelved the thought that had just popped up.
"Gauss, what are you thinking about?" Alia noticed his gaze and asked curiously.
"I was wondering if leaving all this here was wasteful. Hephaestus might eat it."
"But they're heavily poisonous…"
"Which is why I dropped the idea."
The ettercaps and their spider minions both carried strong venom, their main offensive edge.
To safely eat their flesh, you'd have to painstakingly remove every toxic organ, trim away contaminated tissue, then scrub and cook what was left with care.
Way too much trouble.
And while dragons could handle food that would kill a human—Goblins, Kobolds, and other "not fit for people" monsters were just slightly funky rations to them—there was no need to risk feeding it poison.
At the end of the day, Hephaestus was his mount.
If the dragon got sick from something it ate, Gauss would be the one stuck dealing with the fallout.
"Let's get Maggie home first."
Gauss walked over to where she'd finally calmed down—for the moment at least.
She'd borrowed cloth from Alia and carefully wrapped up her dead townsfolk's bones and belongings into bundles. Now she sat on the ground, eyes unfocused.
Only when Gauss stepped in front of her and spoke did she jerk back to the present.
Her village wasn't exactly close.
Before leaving, Gauss remembered the other thing he'd meant to do for her.
"Maggie, can you read?"
"I… I know a little."
Seeing the dazed look still in her eyes, he skipped any buildup.
He reached into his bag and took out a basic archery skill for rangers: Rapid Shot.
"Here's a fundamental ranger skill. Rapid Shot. Try reading through it—see if you can follow along."
"This…"
Her daze shattered.
Maggie's eyes went wide, fixed on the small, pristine booklet in his hand.
Even before all of this, saving up for a skillbook had been one of her life goals. To have that dream appear out of nowhere now left her overwhelmed.
"Take it. You need it, don't you?"
Gauss could see the hatred already burning in her. Even without his "sponsorship," she would eventually claw her way toward power and set out on her own revenge.
To be honest, he'd questioned whether giving this to her was truly kindness. The path of an adventurer is dangerous, and skills are a double-edged gift.
But in the end, he decided that what she needed most wasn't safety—it was strength.
Besides, one of his reasons for roaming the countryside was to "spread the craft," to help promising people step onto the path of becoming professionals.
Maggie hesitated for a heartbeat, then took the booklet decisively.
The last two days had already rewritten her life. Never had she wanted power this badly.
If she had even a fraction of this man's strength, she could have protected her father and uncle instead of cowering behind a tree, praying the thing in the mist wouldn't notice her.
That gut-deep helplessness? She never wanted to feel it again.
"Thank you. Truly, Sir Gauss."
Her eyes shone with gratitude.
He hadn't just saved her life. Now he was handing her the means to get even.
"How can I repay you?"
Gauss shook his head.
Since becoming an adventurer, he'd helped more people than he could count, and he'd heard this question more than once.
"I don't need repayment."
"If you want to repay me… use that power well."
Maggie clutched the skillbook tight.
"I understand. I'll do my best to kill more monsters… like you."
There was admiration in her gaze now.
She'd watched him kill in a way that bordered on surreal—monsters falling like wheat before a scythe. He looked downright happy doing it.
So… did Sir Gauss have a story like hers?
"…"
He met her blazing look, that raw oath forming behind her eyes, and fell silent for a moment.
He'd expected this. He still didn't think ordinary people needed to be like him. They couldn't be, even if they tried.
If someone had to wear the mantle of "monster slayer," it should be him, not the people scraping by in villages like this.
But she was already on the path.
"…Then before you throw yourself at the world," he said at last, "get that skill down properly."
"You only get one life."
"Even I trained a long time before I became an adventurer."
A harmless lie, for her sake.
The truth was, he'd been pretty reckless at the start—running into the woods with a wooden spear and a tiny shield. Looking back now, it had been insanely risky. But the handbook's promises and his own ignorance had pushed him on.
From Alia's side-eye, he could tell she didn't quite buy it either. Still, she didn't call him out. When she'd met him, he'd already hit Level 1; she didn't actually know how long he'd been at it.
"I understand." Maggie nodded, earnest. "I'll master this before I set out."
To her, Gauss wasn't just her savior; he was a senior with a similar wound, and someone to look up to. His advice sank deep.
On the ride back, she flipped through the book again and again.
She'd said she could read "a little," but the frown that creased her brow over the denser passages told the real story.
Gauss wasn't surprised. In most villages, being able to read anything already made you "educated." Skillbooks were written in jargon that tripped up even city folk.
He had a solution.
"Can't make sense of it?"
"…Yes." Maggie's cheeks reddened.
"No problem. I'll walk you through it."
He had her pause, then let the Draconic trait do its work, allowing mana to flow up into his throat.
"Comprehend Languages."
Invisible magic spilled from his mouth and sank into Maggie.
A cool clarity washed through her head.
The cramped, prickly lines on the page softened, rearranging in her mind into words that seemed… friendlier.
She wasn't fool enough to think she'd suddenly become a genius. She immediately recognized: this was his spell.
Gauss watched her widened eyes and gave a small, satisfied nod.
Just like he'd guessed, Draconic greatly amplified this particular spell.
Far more than it had his attack magic.
traits clearly had their favorite lanes.
His "Comprehend Languages" now was better by a mile than the version he'd used before.
"Keep reading on the road. We'll have you home soon."
"Okay."
By the time they reached her village, she'd chewed through the entire booklet at least once.
Maggie already had some literacy and a hunter's foundation. The real obstacle had been the technical language and the conceptual leaps. With Draconic-boosted Comprehend Languages smoothing the way, it was like someone had snipped the thorns off the path.
Gauss wasn't a ranger, but at his level, he could see the core of the technique at a glance. After a few questions, he confirmed she'd really grasped the basics. All that was left was practice.
Without him, she might have clawed through the book on raw stubbornness and trait anyway. With him, that process compressed dramatically. It told him something about his upgraded spell.
Maybe, fused with Draconic, Comprehend Languages wasn't quite the same spell anymore.
Some sort of… "inspiration conduit"?
Maybe he really would make a decent teacher.
He pushed the thought aside with a shake of his head.
In his bones, he knew this version was a catalyst, not a miracle. It could speed growth, but it couldn't turn rotten wood into iron.
"We're here."
They stopped at the edge of a village that looked like a hundred others: not wealthy, not destitute; just clinging to the margins.
Under the wary stares of the locals, Gauss brought Maggie back to her door.
He didn't step inside.
"We'll be going now, Maggie."
She knew someone like Gauss couldn't linger. She'd delayed him enough. It would have felt shameless to ask more of him.
"Thank you. All of you. Please… travel safely."
She bowed deeply.
"Take care. Maybe we'll meet again." Gauss lifted a hand in farewell.
Under her gaze, they turned back to the road.
He had too much to do back in town.
Turn in the commission. Finish digesting the flood of Draconic data. Spend those elite points to evolve the trait…
He was pretty sure there was a lot more he could squeeze out of it—just like he'd discovered using it with Comprehend Languages.