ã€ŠGilded Gloryã€‹


 Chapter 1: Sword Beats Quill

    Sunlight poured down upon the dusty cobbles of Torid, causing the air to shimmer in the unseasonably warm spring heat. Within the marketplace, people from every walk of life went to and fro, each doing their best to finish whatever task had forced them out into this horrid heat so that they might escape to somewhere cooler.

    From within one such place, Rayne watched the unfortunates, observing the sweat that beaded their brows and caused their clothes to stick damply to their skin. For some, like the servant carrying his master¡¯s purse, respite lay at the end of their journey. For others, such as the two beggars following the servant, their only refuge was the approaching dusk, still a good hour or two away by Rayne¡¯s estimation.

    Unable to contain himself, Rayne let out a sigh. He was bored, his boss was in his office, and the clerk¡¯s floor was devoid of customers. With chin in hand, he stared out the window by his desk and played his favorite game: who is the richest in the market?

    Flicking the beads on his abacus, which clacked gently against each other with each movement, he idly considered how bored the other clerks must be, what with their views limited to just the floor they occupied. This feeling of pity was quickly forgotten as he saw one finely dressed lady¡ªundoubtedly some noble or their trophy¡ªwalk about the market.

    A few servants followed her, carrying linens and silks high above their heads, as if the possibility of them touching the ground¡ªor worse, commoners¡ªwould warrant their execution. Seeing the fierce scowl of the lady had him pondering if it really might; at the very least, they might be fired for allowing ¡®her majesty¡¯s¡¯ clothing to touch the filth that made up the riff raff of the streets.

    With a quick end to his game, he allowed his eyes to wander over the crowds once again, futilely trying to find anyone who could rival the lady and her servants. So enamored with his sightseeing, or possibly just with his avoidance of anything constituting work, that it took the man standing before his desk three coughs to gain his attention. With a start, he brought his hands back down onto the desk and took in his newest client, hoping to whatever gods may exist that he had not just pissed off someone important.

    ¡°Ahem!¡±

    Unfortunately, it seemed that Rayne¡¯s prayers had not been answered, for the well-dressed man before him looked furious.

    ¡°Welcome to the Office of the City Registrar,¡± Rayne greeted him politely. ¡°My name is Rayne. How may I assist you today?¡±

    ¡°About damn time,¡± the man growled.

    He was roughly middle aged, with a thinning widow¡¯s peak and a pair of spectacles that sat low on his bulbous nose. Beneath that was a moustache that contained more wax than an average candle, and a pair of thin lips currently pressed in an annoyed manner. His clothes were tailored, but not made from fine materials, indicating that he worked for a prestigious house, but was not himself a part of it. A servant perhaps, or a steward.

    Unaware of Rayne¡¯s analysis, the man blustered on. ¡°I¡¯m a steward on a mission for Baron Redmond, and your lack of professionalism has cost me valuable time. Your manager shall be hearing from the baron¡¯s house later.¡±

    Cursing inwardly, Rayne put on a fake smile and stared at the man. His daydreaming had cost the steward before him perhaps ten seconds, less than the time he had spent to complain. But there was nothing to be gained from arguing, and so he put on his best customer service facade and smiled at the man.

    ¡°Certainly, sir. And what does the good baron need today?¡±

    With a harrumph, the steward reached into his vest pocket and withdrew an envelope, which he let fall onto the desk with a loud thump. ¡°The baron needs you to process these documents. They¡¯re for his upcoming journey to Thrade. He plans to take a full protective detail as a result of the recent goblin scare, and for some reason, this means that the city requires us to file for his retinue.¡±

    The snort he let out let Rayne know just what he thought of this policy, designed to prevent nobles from entering the city with a personal army by their side and taking it over from the inside.

    Staring at him, Rayne suppressed a sigh. The news he was about to deliver should have made him happy, and yet three years of dealing with such people had primed him to know exactly how the pompous little prick that stood before him was going to take it.

    Summoning his brightest smile, Rayne beamed at him. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you have the wrong office, sir. You¡¯ll want the¡ª¡±

    The rest of his sentence was immediately drowned out as the steward reacted in exactly the way Rayne had suspected he would.

    ¡°What do you mean, the wrong office?!¡± The man was shouting now, spittle flying from his mouth and landing in his moustache. ¡°I¡¯ve been handling Baron Redford¡¯s matters for over a decade now, and not once in that time have I ever been given such shoddy service! This is the registrar¡¯s office! You handle the city documents! Well, the city wants this document, and you had better damn well process it, you ignorant, malfeasant whelp!¡±

    Feeling a headache coming on, Rayne pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Sir, this is the registrar¡¯s office. We handle register-related matters, as well as disbursements for official jobs. If the baron was getting married, you would come here. If he had performed a service for the city and required payment, you would come here. But noble retinues are the purview of the guard. What you want is the Office of the Guard over by the main gate.¡±

    This was the wrong answer, and immediately, the steward flew off into another tirade about respect and the importance of diligence, ironic considering his own lack of it, Rayne thought. Whatever else the man had to say, he did not know, having tuned out somewhere between the fifth and ninth synonym for impertinent brat.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    After far too long, Rayne¡¯s manager¡ªa fat, balding man named Kline¡ªappeared, and the good baron¡¯s steward was ushered into a private room, away from unpleasant young clerks who used awful words like ¡®No¡¯.

    Knowing that he was likely in for a tongue lashing from his manager later, despite having done nothing wrong, made Rayne depressed, and he nearly did not notice that another man had appeared, this one looking quite unlike the one before.

    His surprise must have shown on his face, but luckily, the man waved off his startled and alarmed expression with a short laugh.

    ¡°Worry not, lad, some of us understand that angry words don¡¯t make people work any faster.¡±

    Rayne let out a short breath that he hadn¡¯t realized he had been holding. The last encounter still hung over him like a cloud, but he could not afford to let it weigh him down. He needed this job too much for that. Recomposing himself, he gave the man a courteous nod. ¡°My apologies nevertheless, sir. How may I assist you?¡±

    The man gave him a quick nod in return and then pulled out an envelope from beneath his shirt. ¡°I¡¯m just here to collect my fee for a job done. I¡¯ve heard you do that here.¡±

    There was a grin on his face as he said this, having clearly overheard the previous conversation. Not that that had been hard. The steward had been loud enough for the entire market to hear and then some.

    Taking the letter, Rayne began to open it as his eyes took in the man before him. The newcomer was not dressed like his usual clientele. Metal bracers covered his arms, and his legs and torso were protected by a thick leather jerkin that covered most of his body. Jutting over his left shoulder, the butt of what appeared to be a crossbow could be seen, the rest of it hidden behind his thick midsection. From the looks of it, he must be an adventurer, and a quick glance at the envelope confirmed his suspicions.

    The document in his hands showed that this fellow had taken a job to chase away an infestation of giant rats that had nested in one of the local farmer¡¯s barns. There was the signature and stamp approving the quest from the guild alongside another signature and stamp from the guard signifying its completion. At the bottom of the envelope was written the pay of six silver and twenty-five copper.

    That was more than Rayne earned in a whole day, all for one job! And for the simple act of killing rats! Rayne shook his head. Life simply wasn¡¯t fair.

    The adventurer coughed meaningfully once again, drawing Rayne out of the contemplative silence he was not even aware he had entered. Like many children, he had entertained dreams of adventuring in his youth. The freedom to go where he wished, without need for classes or stuffy tutors. The glory and praise won with one¡¯s sword arm, rather than a perfect score on the most recent test. And of course, there was the pay. His eyes strayed to the letter in his hands, which gripped the paper slightly tighter. Yes, the pay.

    Remembering himself, Rayne hurriedly collected his thoughts. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll go and grab your coin from the magister." He stood up and gave the adventurer a quick bow, just to be safe.

    Letter in hand, he walked past the other clerks, each busy with their own more normal customers. Some were writing out letters for commoners; conversely, others were reading letters out. The majority, though, were interacting with nobles one way or another. All around him, his coworkers toiled away, hands moving quickly as they paid out salaries, collected fines, and processed documentation.

    Occasionally, just as it had been for him, some noble would appear to give them a dressing down for some perceived slight or because their luxury wines were taxed at a two percent higher increment than last year. They would put on a polite face as they weathered the storm, keenly aware that each and every one of their coworkers was glad not to be in their position at the moment.

    Reaching the back of the floor, Rayne made his way to one of the magisters writing down something or another on a ledger hidden just below the lip of the desk.

    ¡°Rayne.¡± The magister looked up as Rayne interrupted their writing. From the way he shook his wrists, Rayne doubted the man minded too much, and he nodded in recognition.

    ¡°I have an adventurer here for his mission rewards.¡± He turned himself so that the magister could see the man standing before Rayne¡¯s empty desk.

    The magister peered at him for a moment and then took the adventurer''s letter, giving it a quick once over with a practiced eye before reaching under his desk to pull out a large lockbox.

    ¡°Grab his coin.¡± With that, the magister reluctantly went back to writing, sparing only a quick glance to ensure that Rayne knew not to take more than the allocated amount.

    Technically, this was supposed to be his job, but a lack of funding had left the registrar¡¯s office scrambling, and everyone had to pull their own weight and then some. Left with no other choice, Rayne took out the coins and got to counting.

    For some clerks, it would have been half a minute¡¯s work, making small and neat piles of five to ten coins apiece and multiplying by the pile. His math skills might not have stood out at the Academy, but they were not so weak as to mess up an order of this size. It took Rayne only a few seconds to finish, deft fingers snatching up the requisite coins. And if he had messed up, then the burly adventurer waiting for him at the other counter was sure to let him know.

    On second thought, let¡¯s double check. Ten seconds later, Rayne nodded to himself, satisfied that he had properly accounted for the adventurer¡¯s due. Collecting the coins into a small stack, he grabbed a pouch from one of the many drawers in their office and slid the coins inside, where they jingled happily in their new home.

    Thus finished with the task, Rayne returned to his place, gripping the pouch in front of him as he made his way back to the adventurer.

    When he reached his desk again, he found the adventurer playing his own favorite game of watching the market square from the window. Unlike Rayne, however, the adventurer noted his return, and an easy smile graced his face as his eyes found the jingling pouch that Rayne carried.

    ¡°Good lad, I was almost worried you¡¯d gotten in trouble there for a moment. I¡¯m aware most adventures get their reward from the guild, but given that this was a commission from the city¡­¡± His smile faltered for a moment. ¡°It wasn¡¯t an issue, was it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No, sir, I was simply making sure that you received the proper amount,'''' Rayne replied coolly.

    The adventurer''s smile returned as Rayne quickly signed his name on the mission envelope, marking that the job had been paid before handing it back.

    With the purse now firmly in hand, the adventurer gave Rayne one final nod before departing, his armor looking rather dusty in the sunlight as he exited the registrar¡¯s office out into the sunlit square of the market proper.

    Rayne sighed and looked back out the window. As the adventurer came into sight below their office, he idly wondered if they were now the richest in the market.

 Chapter 2: The Price of Knowledge

    Rayne shook his newly filled pouch and grimaced at the paltry wage of his clerical job. Three and a half silver wasn¡¯t a bad haul for a day''s work, but after that adventurer had come by to claim six silver for half a day¡¯s work, it had him feeling just a tad inadequate.

    That had been hours ago. By the time Rayne got off work, if the adventurer pushed himself, he might be able to complete a whole new mission since then and receive almost thirteen silvers in one day!

    Rayne sighed and affixed the pouch to his waist. It wasn¡¯t a wholly fair comparison since their job saw them facing death more often than naught. His own desk job kept him and his sister fed and with a roof over their head, but that was all it did. Between rent, their food expenditures, taxes, and anything else that may arise, they barely had enough to make it through the month. If he wasn¡¯t so fond of the way his head sat on his shoulders, he might have been tempted to take up adventuring himself.

    With that thought to keep him company, Rayne made his way through the market with the end day rush in full swing. One hand keeping a grip on his coin pouch while the other navigated him through the throng of bodies, he made his way to a familiar stall. He was rewarded for his efforts with the very unwelcome view of a short and portly man smoking over his collection of what Rayne knew to be stale bread.

    The man nodded to Rayne and grabbed two loaves for him. ¡°Forty copper.¡±

    Rayne paused as he was grabbing his coin and looked up to the man. ¡°Fifty copper? It¡¯s been thirty copper for the past two months. Why¡¯s it up twenty coins?¡± he demanded.

    The man shrugged in response. ¡°That¡¯s the price. You don¡¯t want it, don''t buy it.¡± With that, he made to pull the loaves away.

    Gritting his teeth, Rayne reached into his purse and fished out the copper. He hated to do this, but they had to eat, and there was no way one merchant would raise prices if the others had not.

    With unwilling fingers, he handed it over and grabbed the loaves in return. Whatever hopes he had possessed that the price increase would mean fresher bread were dashed by the very weapon-like qualities they appeared to possess. The bread was hard as rock, and likely tasted only marginally better. Giving the man one last scowl to make his displeasure known, Rayne headed off.

    The bread might have been stale and overly expensive, but it was still food, and Rayne kept it close to his chest as he made his way through the market, mindful not to let it stick out and be torn from his hands by a passerby or an opportunistic beggar.

    Thankfully, the streets outside the market were much less busy. He made sure to keep a hand on his coin and a good grip on the bread, but he could feel himself relaxing as his feet took him to the nicer parts of the city. Here, the dirty cobblestones and rickety wooden houses were replaced by stone paths and brick construction. It was officially called the Old Quarter, owing to it having been the only ward to survive the fire that had nearly brought Torid to ruin two centuries ago. But these days, everyone called it the Noble District.

    It was an apt name. The only ones who could afford to live here were nobles and those merchants and administrators who had managed to defy the odds of their birth and accumulate enough wealth to live beside those fortunate enough to be born from a noble lady¡¯s loins.

    Statues were everywhere, depicting heroes, gods, and famous figures from the city¡¯s history. Carefully cultivated bushes lined the boulevard, and large trees provided shade every dozen feet, their trunks perfectly round from the city green mage¡¯s tending.

    It was a little slice of paradise, and Rayne hated it. Hated what it represented. Hated the nobles for living there. Hated the fact that he could not provide such a home for his sister. Such thoughts were not productive, though, and he exhaled as the Academy came into sight. It had been a long day, but at least it was finally nearing its end.

    The gates of the Academy were enormous, easily fifteen feet high, and the intricate wrought iron fence towered over its surroundings, preserving the valuable knowledge inside. Or at least, that was what those in charge wanted people to believe. In actuality, it was to deny it to those they deemed unworthy, to prevent them from ever rising above their station. If spitting was not illegal in the Noble Quarter, Rayne would have spat at the feet of the mighty gate. Instead, he joined the throng of similarly dressed people milling around outside as he searched for Issa amidst the crowd.

    Commoners were not allowed inside the Academy¡¯s hallowed halls, except for those lucky few who were allowed to attend, and thus Rayne was forced to wait outside to collect his sister, along with the loose collection of parents and siblings of the other commoner students. Though their children might attend, no further commoner boots would dirty the marble floors of the Academy, not even its vestibule, blood ties be damned.

    Scanning the crowd, Rayne gazed at the gathered commonfolk. His sister did not appear to be waiting for him, but he did spot a familiar, bald head, and he approached with a friendly wave.

    ¡°Professor Iain,¡± he called, moving to greet the man.

    Hearing his voice, the bald man turned and gave him a small smile of recognition at his approach. ¡°Mr. Rayne, it is nice to see you again. I assume you¡¯re here for Ms. Ysseus?¡± he asked.

    Rayne nodded. ¡°That I am. She¡¯s probably just in the library, too engrossed in her studies to remember the time.¡±

    The professor chuckled. ¡°She is a most diligent student. It would not surprise me one bit if ten years from now we were hearing about the newest addition to the lord¡¯s cabinet. Of course, that is not to say that you were a bad student. But Ms. Ysseus is truly formidable, one of the brightest minds I have ever had the pleasure of teaching.¡±

    Rayne beamed at the praise. His sister really was the pride of their family. Before their parents¡¯ passing, they had always talked about the value of education, but even they would have never dreamed of what their little Issa had grown up to accomplish. Before he could press the professor for more praise, he spotted a familiar set of brunette locks rushing down the library doors.

    Slowing her step, his sister came to a halt beside the duo with her eyes wide and full of guilt. ¡°I didn¡¯t keep you too long, did I?¡± she asked nervously.

    Rayne laughed softly. ¡°Relax, Issa, I¡¯ve only been here a few hours.¡±

    Both he and the professor laughed as she rolled her eyes. She turned to the professor and bowed respectfully. ¡°I apologize if my brother has kept you, sir.¡±

    The professor waved her concern away easily. ¡°Worry not, my dear, it is always a pleasure to speak with former students. I shall leave you two to return home. Ensure you are ready for the end of semester tests, Ms. Ysseus.¡± He gave them a final nod before turning and walking off.

    Issa¡¯s eye twitched slightly, and Rayne watched her sympathetically. Her parents had given her the name Ysseus, pronounced iss-ee-us, after the minor goddess of knowledge in the hopes that she would grow up intelligent. That had certainly worked, but she hated her full name, and insisted everyone call her Issa.

    However, a professor wasn¡¯t someone she could afford to correct, and Professor Iain wasn¡¯t a bad person, just one who liked his old-fashioned sensibilities such as only using proper names. And so she was forced to go by the name she disliked in his presence.

    As the man in question disappeared into the academy, Rayne turned to walk home, handing off a loaf of bread for his sister to hold as he did.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°What were you two talking about?¡± she asked, her fingers pressing into the loaf to test its staleness.

    ¡°Nothing important, we only got to talk for a minute or two before you ran out,¡± he replied.

    She nodded in understanding as they continued their walk in silence. Together, they walked through the wealthy part of town where the Academy was located, past the now almost empty market, until they reached the outer ring of the city¡ªthe Dregs, as the nobles derisively called them.

    The cobblestones here were worn down, with muck and grime everywhere. It was hard to believe they were the same rocks as those used in the Noble District, but they were. They simply lacked maintenance, just like most other things in the Dregs. Lampposts of dark iron stood tall, their lamps flickering within their bowls in their attempts to activate, the rune formations used to power them old and worn. Several would not turn on at all, and simply stood there, dark sentinels that watched over the crime and filth as they slowly rusted away.

    Old leaves rested in the gutters, still here from last fall, their gray forms stained with blood, sludge, and all the other residues that flowed throughout the Dregs. A few bums rested among them, their eyes bleary after another day spent begging in the wealthier parts of the city. Some did their best to save what little coin they got, hoping to eventually turn their fortunes around. Most simply spent it on the bottle, the numb grip of alcoholism a better balm than facing reality in such a place.

    It wasn¡¯t yet dark enough for most of the criminal elements to be roaming around, but Rayne did notice hungry eyes following them as they walked through the narrow streets. The watchers wouldn¡¯t try anything, he was too big a target for them to try and rob for some stale bread and a few coins.

    But if Issa had been alone¡­ He chased the thought from his mind. That was why he never let her come home alone. Every day without fail, he headed to the Academy to fetch her and escort her back to the apartment they shared. And every day, they made it there safe.

    Nevertheless, a sigh of relief escaped him when they finally reached their apartment, the shabby building just one of many that had all been piled together in a great heap, like a group of houses that had been smushed together and then abandoned here to rot. Still, home was home, and pulling out the key, he quickly unlocked their door and ushered Issa in before slipping inside.

    Here they were greeted by the cramped and narrow hallway that led into their apartment proper. On one side, a rickety staircase led upwards to their bedrooms and the single bathroom in the house. On the other, the hallway continued, leading into their dusty, mold-infested kitchen, the last remnants of sunlight that drifted in highlighting a cockroach quickly running out from the pantry.

    It was not as if they didn¡¯t clean. But between work, school, and the general lack of cleanliness in the Dregs, there was only so much that could be done. And it wasn¡¯t good to clean too much either. Houses that stood out were prime targets for burglars, an experience they¡¯d both gone through a few times now.

    Issa sighed as Rayne went to work preparing a bowl of stew for the both of them while she struggled to cut them a few slices of bread from the freshly purchased but certainly not freshly-baked loaf Rayne had purchased. When they sat down at the table, Issa frowned, her eyes darting from her bowl of stew to his.

    ¡°You gave me more again,¡± she said with a slight tinge of disappointment. ¡°You know you¡¯re not eating enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Issa. As one who has done both, believe me when I say that you need more energy for learning than you do as a small-time clerk.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed at his excuse, and she made to give him some of her bread. He used his spoon to fend it off.

    ¡°None of that. That bread was half a silver, and I won¡¯t have you wasting it on me,¡± he said matter of factly.

    Her frown deepened. ¡°Half a silver? Can we afford that?¡± she asked with a hint of concern.

    He tried to smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, I¡¯m not going to waste our coin on substandard bread. Besides, this stuff was a bargain, name another meal that can be used to beat a thief off.¡± He said it with a smile, but his sister was unimpressed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t joke around, Rayne. I¡¯ve heard rumors that tuition might be getting hiked as well. If everything keeps getting more expensive, then maybe I should just drop out of school and get a job like you did,¡± she said, the concern in her eyes such that Rayne felt his own smile falter.

    His shoulders fell. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, Issa. If need be, I can take a job at night to earn a bit of extra coin.¡± He went in for a spoonful of stew before a thought came to mind. ¡°Worst comes to worst, maybe I¡¯ll become an adventurer. One of them came by today for close to seven silver from a single job! We¡¯d never need to worry about stale bread again.¡± He took a sip of his stew and looked up to see his sister wide eyed and still.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that,¡± she uttered lowly. ¡°Mom and Dad died. I can¡¯t afford to lose you as well.¡±

    Rayne looked troubled. ¡°It was just a thought. And it¡¯s not like adventuring is only fighting. There are plenty of adventurers who do other jobs as well. Or so I¡¯ve heard.¡±

    Issa pointed at him, her meal forgotten. ¡°You¡¯re not going to become an adventurer! I¡¯d prefer to sleep on the streets than to lose you.¡± Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, and her fingertip trembled as she pointed at him.

    Rayne was not used to hearing such worry from his sister, not in the last few years at least. She had largely been unflappable since she¡¯d stopped having night terrors around her fifteenth birthday. To see her freaking out so badly caused him to instinctively stand, and he walked over to wrap her in a hug.

    ¡°It was a joke, Issa. You know I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±

    She seemed to calm down a little from his words. Still, he didn¡¯t let go until her breathing returned completely to normal. The rest of their dinner was spent in relative silence, and Rayne felt like he was walking on eggshells as he grabbed their plates to clean them while Issa pulled out her books to begin studying.

    ~

    The next day was significantly more boring than the previous, and this time, there was no adventurer coming by to break up the monotony of his clerical work with something slightly novel. Thus, it was with no small relief that Rayne left the moment five bells sounded, skipping through the breakroom to grab his things and heading out before anyone could accost him.

    Unlike the day previous, he did not hit up the market, having no need for any more groceries quite yet, but instead headed straight for the Academy. When he arrived, Professor Iain was waiting for him once again, but the moment he saw him, Rayne could feel that something was wrong.

    ¡°Professor Iain?¡±

    Clapping eyes on him, Iain seemed to wilt, a guilty look appearing on his face. ¡°Ah, Mr. Rayne,¡± he greeted him, a nervous smile etched on his lips. ¡°I am afraid I have some¡­ poor news to share.¡±

    The professor looked away as he said this, and Rayne felt his heart become gripped with fear. They weren¡¯t expelling Issa, were they? Surely not, she was a prodigious student, the professor had said as much himself just yesterday. Taking a few quick breaths to calm himself, he responded.

    ¡°What seems to be the issue, sir?¡± he asked while trying to keep his voice even.

    ¡°The lord''s council has seen fit to increase tuition for the academy. Starting next semester, costs will increase to eight gold coins per term,¡± he said, an air of regret around him.

    Rayne could barely believe his ears. They couldn¡¯t afford that. Eight gold coins was nearly double the current tuition. Were they mad?

    "What about her scholarships, surely those will be rising to meet the new costs, won¡¯t they?¡± he asked, hoping his desperation would not be so apparent, but the wince from the professor indicated he had failed in this.

    ¡°I am afraid scholarships will be remaining as they are. No new ones will be issued either.¡± As Rayne¡¯s face fell, the man shook his head sorrowfully. ¡°I am terribly sorry. You would likely have been receiving a letter in the next week or so informing you of this change, but I wanted to give you advance warning, for whatever it may be worth.¡± The professor patted Rayne¡¯s shoulder sympathetically even as his words shattered the young man''s world.

    He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the callousness of it all. Clearly, the city lord had decided too many of common birth were attending the academy and had seen fit to remedy the situation. Rayne might have been able to understand if prices were just set to go up by a gold coin, or if additional scholarships were being offered, but as it was, this was just a clear move to kick the commoners out of what the nobles and the wealthy saw as their halls.

    Seeing the obvious turmoil within his former student¡¯s expression, Iain withdrew his hand from Rayne¡¯s shoulder before he continued.

    ¡°The costs will be due at the beginning of next term. I may be able to grant an extra week or two as Ysseus is a gifted student, but anything further and it shall be out of my hands. I truly wish you well, Mr. Rayne.¡±

    With these closing words the professor solemnly walked away, leaving Rayne to grapple with the sudden revelation. It was there that his sister found him some fifteen minutes later, still with an empty look on his face as he contemplated their future.

    ¡°Is everything okay, brother?¡± she asked with a look of concern.

    Suddenly noticing the appearance of his sister, Rayne put on a brave face. ¡°Y-yeah. Sorry, Issa, I just had a long day.¡±

    He patted her head and forced a fake smile before they turned to walk away. The news haunted him as they made their way home, and his mind raced with how he could possibly raise eight more gold coins in only five months.

 Chapter 3: The Adventurers Guild

    Sleep did not come easy, nor did it grant respite. Haunted by dreams of Issa¡¯s expulsion, Rayne awoke no less than five times, and it was a pale shell of a man who walked the two miles from the Dregs to the market square the next morning. With each labored step, he wracked his brain for ways to earn the missing gold, but eight gold pieces was just too much to gather on such a short notice. Even on a long notice, it would have been tough. Half a year¡¯s rent? And they expected people to be able to pay that?

    With a bitter laugh, Rayne shook his head. No, they did not expect people to be able to pay that. At least not the commonfolk. It was a well-known fact that the lord¡¯s faction regarded the increasing number of commoner students attending their prized Academy as a blight upon the city. The costs for the academy¡¯s upkeep were only a facade for their plan to reduce those numbers. It galled Rayne, and yet he stood powerless to stop it.

    Perhaps it was this sense of powerlessness that caused Rayne¡¯s mistake, but he failed to notice the figure in front of him, seeing her only at the last second as he crashed into her.

    ¡°Watch it!¡± the woman shouted, though Rayne could not imagine why. He had bounced off of her like a fly, and he could feel a dull ache in his ribs where he had been struck.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he attempted to apologize, but she was not having it.

    ¡°Sorry?¡± she snarled. ¡°You almost sent me flying. Why don¡¯t you watch where you¡¯re going?¡±

    Unable to say anything in his defense, Rayne was about to apologize again when the lady¡¯s companion stepped in.

    ¡°Calm down, Keris, I know this guy. He¡¯s a clerk at the city office. Helped me out yesterday.¡± Giving Rayne a smile, he reached down and offered a hand which Rayne gladly accepted.

    A moment later, he was back on his feet, the adventurer having lifted him as effortlessly as Rayne might have lifted an inkpot. Sure enough, it was the same man he had seen yesterday, the one who¡¯d made more in a single job than Rayne had all day.

    Patting Rayne¡¯s chest to help dust him off, the man smiled apologetically. ¡°Sorry about Keris. We¡¯re about to head out on a mission, and she¡¯s a bit on edge.¡±

    ¡°No, it was my fault. My apologies,¡± Rayne told him, directing a short bow to Keris, who stood with arms folded off to the side.

    With a light snort, she let her arms fall. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Just watch where you¡¯re going next time.¡±

    Promising that he would do just that, Rayne bounded off, leaving the two adventurers to go on about their day. As he did, a thought began to form. Rather than walking to the market as he normally did, he instead changed course, heading not for his job at the clerk¡¯s office, but for another district entirely.

    Two ideas dominated Rayne¡¯s thoughts as he walked. The first was the need for money. Without gold, Issa would be expelled from the academy, and her future ruined. The second was the need for secrecy. Because what he was planning would surely infuriate his sister, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with that educated hellion and her flawless rhetoric.

    All too soon, he arrived at his destination, the choice weighing heavy on his mind. Was this right? Even if she could not graduate from the Academy, Issa would still have a decent future ahead of her. She was bright, extraordinarily so, and surely someone would recognize her talent and offer her a position befitting such a genius.

    A dark shadow fell over Rayne¡¯s face. Unfortunately, he could not entertain such optimistic whims. The Academy was more than just an institution of learning. It was a place to form connections, to develop relationships with those who controlled not just Torid but the kingdom itself, and the degree it granted them offered its graduates opportunities and a level of freedom unparalleled among all the schools in the province. The capital had the Grand Academy, but out here, The Academy was the best of the best. If Issa was forced to stop now, then he would be directly responsible for destroying the promising path she was walking, and that was not something he could stomach.

    Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Rayne entered the Adventurer¡¯s district. Technically speaking, it was located in the same outer ring as the Dregs, but it was its own distinct district, lacking the appalling poverty that characterized the Dregs.

    Central to it all was the Adventurer¡¯s Guildhall, a large building that towered over the shops and houses in its surroundings. Built into the very wall of the city, it was three stories tall, and both the materials used in its construction and the street in front of it were of much better make than anything in the Dregs.

    Indeed, as Rayne walked down the street, he noticed the nicer looking shops and living quarters all conveniently placed to cater to adventurers trying to live as close to their jobs as possible. It was a sound business plan: if an adventurer was going on a mission and needed a longer sword, then how convenient it was there was a blacksmith right outside the Guildhall.

    The streets were abuzz with activity as he walked, with people walking by in parties of three to five, all dressed in leather or steel with their weapons prominently displayed. Occasionally, he¡¯d even spot the distinct colors of a mage clothed not in any armor but instead fancy robes, with staffs of every conceivable material gripped in their hands.

    Torid was not a large city, and it was not long before Rayne¡¯s destination grew near, and any thoughts of gawking fled his mind entirely. He came to a stop before the center of the district, the Guildhall. It was a large, square-built, wooden building nestled right up against the city walls, at least three stories tall with the second and third floors jutting out over the entrance.

    Adorning the walls were numerous flags and banners, each with their own distinctive sigil. He could recognize the two largest flags as being those of the Kingdom and the city, but many of the smaller banners were foreign to him, with fantastical creatures and monsters and even numbers near the bottoms.

    He knew his sister would not approve. She would drop out of the Academy in a heartbeat to find a job if she so much as sensed that he was considering becoming an adventurer. They might even manage a better life for it, move to a slightly nicer district and have slightly better meals. That would only be in the short term, though. It wasn¡¯t fair to drag her down and keep her from realizing her potential just because some rich assholes had decided to make the Academy a private club.

    Rayne nearly spat at the thought. Issa deserved to be more than a mere fruit stall owner, cutting fruits in the market for those with means. She was fated to be a scholar, or perhaps a high-powered bureaucrat, putting her mind to use for the advancement of the kingdom as a whole. And she could not do that if her brother faltered here. She needed to succeed, and for that to happen, he needed to take a risk. This wasn¡¯t a betrayal, it was for her own good. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Repeating that simple mantra in his head, Rayne pushed open the doors to the hall and entered the adventurer¡¯s guild.

    The first thing he noticed upon entering was how large the interior was. The entire building was essentially one giant, open-air room. The bottom floor was monopolized on one side by clerks sat at their desks assisting adventurers, off to another side was a large group crowded around the wall. Over their heads, he could spot a board littered with papers. The other side was filled to the brim with tables and adventurers loudly discussing their next job or just chatting with one another.

    Near the walls were balconies with yet more tables upon them that allowed those on top to look down on the rest. Hanging from the balconies were old and worn gear. Broken swords, rusted helmets, chest plates with nasty holes through them, there was one shield given an unusual amount of space that was half melted. He supposed they each had a story around them and briefly wondered if his own gear would ever adorn the walls.

    Wrong idea. You¡¯re here to earn money, not glory.

    Above the broken armaments on the second floor was another set of balconies composing the third floor. These ones had long banners adorning them similar to the ones he had been unable to recognize outside, and they fluttered down prettily over the hubbub on the ground floor.

    Returning his gaze forward, Rayne could also see another set of stairs on the wall opposite him, descending downwards, a vault perhaps or a basement storeroom.

    For a moment, Rayne just gazed around in wonder. It was a much grander building than he was used to, and far more imposing than he had been prepared for. It filled his mind with idle thoughts of heroics and glory, and he had to shake his head in order to dislodge them for the second time before beginning his search of a place to register.

    It was very loud inside. Adventurers of every stripe were shouting about needing specific roles for a party or loudly discussing various facets of a job they had just taken. Each seemed determined to drown out all the others, the relative volume similar to that of a stadium during the annual games. Rayne bore it all with what he hoped was an aloof expression as he made his way to what he assumed were the administrators of the guild, a collection of administrator-looking people who sat behind a large wooden desk built directly into the back wall.

    There were four of them, and they were all discussing with adventurers, giving out coins or stamping what must have been mission contracts similar to the one the adventurer from earlier had handed him two days back.

    Getting into line, Rayne waited. After what felt like hours but in reality had been no more than fifteen minutes, he found himself standing before one very unimpressed woman, the look in her eyes screaming at him that he didn¡¯t belong here. He took a deep breath before saying anything and swallowed his nerves.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to become an adventurer?¡± It came out so meekly that even he wasn¡¯t sure if it was a question or a statement.

    She nodded. ¡°Name?¡±

    ¡°Rayne.¡±

    ¡°You got any previous adventuring or related experience? Soldiering, guard duty, the like?¡±

    Rayne shook his head. ¡°Nothing past mandatory service, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Motioning towards an emerald globe to his right, she glanced at him. ¡°Place your hand on the orb. You¡¯ll feel a pulling sensation. That¡¯s normal. Don¡¯t remove your hand from the orb, and it will all be over with in a jiffy.¡±

    Staring at the orb, Rayne¡¯s eyes drifted back to her. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°A measurement device. This will measure your general level of ability. D-rankers are immediately accepted into the guild and promoted straight to Silver-tier on a probationary basis. Everyone else has to go through initiation if they want to join.¡±

    With some sense of trepidation, and the small hope that he would be assigned a D-rank¡ªwhatever that was¡ªRayne put his hand on the device. The moment his fingertips brushed the surface of the orb, it shone brightly, the emerald color intensifying as it grew brighter. For a moment, Rayne felt nothing, then a tugging sensation just above his navel made its presence known, growing stronger by the second.

    Alarmed, he wanted to pull his hand back, but the words of the receptionist echoed in his mind, and he resolutely stood firm, the orb continuing to glow brightly as the sensation grew stronger. After ten seconds, it resided, and the light grew dim.

    Before Rayne could ask what it had accomplished, he was distracted by a new sight. On the surface of the orb, words had appeared, scrawled neatly across the emerald-colored glass.

    [Rayne]

    Strength - F (6/10)

    Agility - E (11/50)

    Dexterity - F (9/10)

    Constitution - F (5/10)

    Magic Power - F (Unawakened)

    Looking up, Rayne could immediately tell that the receptionist¡¯s interest in him had waned. The orb was clearly a device that measured potential, and from what he could tell, he had failed. At least in the eyes of the receptionist.

    With an expression that was disinterested, but not unkind, she gazed at him. ¡°You¡¯re sure you want to be an adventurer, honey? ¡®Cause let me tell you, it¡¯s not an easy profession. I¡¯ve seen better applicants than you die on their first mission.¡±

    For a moment, Rayne faltered, but then a vision of Issa floated to mind, her face downcast and her eyes dull as she chopped fruits for customers in the market, and his resolve returned. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, ¡°It¡¯s your funeral,¡± she rolled her eyes and reached below the solid slab of oak that acted as her desk. When her hand returned, it was holding a small map which she spread across the hardwood countertop.

    Leaning in, Rayne immediately recognized it as a map of the city and its surrounding wilderness. He had dealt with similar maps a few times as a clerk, though none quite as detailed as this. Every single stream, trail, and cave was marked in excruciating detail, with little letters next to them that looked like descriptions rather than names.

    ¡°Initiation is in three days. You¡¯ll make your way here. ¡±She tapped her finger to a small clearing a little ways north of the city ¡°There¡¯ll be signs and people to help you along. The important thing to remember is just to leave through the north gate.¡± She rolled the map back up and put it away, the bored expression never leaving her face.

    ¡°That¡¯s it? You can¡¯t tell me anything else?¡± Rayne asked, trepidation visible on his face. He knew that being an adventurer was no walk in the park, but this was not the welcome he had been expecting, and it made him nervous.

    The receptionist let her cheek rest against her fist as she leaned against the desk, her eyes roaming over him again before she sighed.

    ¡°No offense, kid,¡± she said in a tone that told him he should very much be offended, ¡°but being an adventurer ain¡¯t really an occupation for¡­ dreamers. My advice? Go back to your parents and read less fairy tales.¡±

    His eyes narrowed at the suggestion. ¡°I¡¯m here for initiation.¡± This time, he spoke much more clearly, but the woman just rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Three days, north gate. We¡¯ll provide the gear, but it¡¯s a loan. You lose it, you pay for it.¡± With that, she reached below her desk and grabbed a small green piece of cloth with the guild¡¯s insignia emblazoned on it. ¡°The day of the test, take that to the armory on the second floor. Someone will be there to kit you out.¡±

    He made to grab the cloth but she pulled it back before he could.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t free. The second you accept this, you¡¯ll have taken a loan with the guild that will be paid back, whether by you or your next of kin.¡±

    When his hand didn¡¯t recede, she brought it back and let him snatch it away.

    ¡°Three days,¡± she echoed as Rayne stalked off. ¡°Initiation after that is a month from now. So don¡¯t be late.¡±

    Too irritated to respond cordially, Rayne settled with a simple nod, not even turning to look in her direction as he left the guild and its annoying receptionist behind.

 Chapter 4: Initiation

    Leon scowled as another initiate stumbled into the small clearing before the ruins, yet another fool suited almost identically to the majority of the hopefuls around: loose leather jerkin a size too big with evident wear, a crude mace chipped from overuse and improper maintenance, and some wooden planks rimmed with iron that one could generously call a shield strapped to their arm.

    Turning his attention to the rest of those gathered, he could spot seventeen other initiates sporting the exact same outfit. Clearly, it was some sort of beginner¡¯s gear provided by the guild for those who could not kit themselves. Seeing as there were only around twenty initiates in total, that meant more than three quarters of them found themselves lacking in any proper gear. It disgusted him.

    ¡°Just kids playing at hero,¡± he sneered. As much as he might understand the allure, this was no job for the meek, for children trying their hand at achieving the feats of legends read about in their fairy tales.

    It might be enticing for those born to nothing, he supposed, but reality was far crueler than fiction. The heroes of legend could never have been of such common stock. There was more to being a hero than knowing how to handle a sharp edge. Talent and training, that was what made the heroes of legend. A commoner could train for a hundred years, but they would never be able to match the talents of noble blood.

    Once again, he turned his eyes towards the glade entrance, awaiting anyone arriving who might appear of any substance. Frankly, it was a travesty that he must attend such a farce; had he maintained his status, then he would have easily qualified for silver-tier by this point.

    Watching the hopeless slowly straggle into the clearing accomplished little more than fuel his indignation even further. Nonetheless, keeping an eye for newcomers kept him far calmer than otherwise constantly being reminded of the position he found himself in.

    Seeing no one approach, he switched his focus onto the other three who donned equipment different to the masses. None of them were particularly impressive, he felt. They, like him, sported metal for their bracers, pauldrons, and greaves in a way that would provide protection but were ultimately just additions to basic leather armor and a far cry from a shining knight''s suit of armor.

    The main difference between them and him lay in their weapons and chest. They had chainmail shirts over their leather jerkin and fairly regular quality iron swords and shields.

    Leon, on the other hand, made sure to distinguish himself from the lower classes by shelling out for a proper metal chestplate, even going so far as to have his family''s crest emblazoned onto the front. It had left him with precious few gold considering all his other expenses recently, but his pride demanded distinction among the unremarkable. The very notion he may be misconstrued for one of them left a bitter taste in his already soured mouth.

    According to the kingdom¡¯s register, he may not be a noble anymore, but his mere attire was sufficient to demonstrate the difference between him and these other rabble. Then of course there was his greatsword, the only heirloom he had managed to¡­ appropriated from his family''s estate before everything was auctioned off. The weapon was made of pure rhymesteel, sung into shape by a bardsmith, and had served his mother well most of her life. Doubtless he¡¯d be able to shatter most of the weapons he saw gathered.

    The mental berating of the commoners was paused as his eyes were caught by a new initiate entering the glade. She was a Katiine, a cat beastfolk. Two orange-colored feline ears poked out of the hair above her head while a tail flicked behind her in an almost bored fashion. Were he closer, he was sure he¡¯d notice her distinct slited eyes and the slight coat of fur on her forearms, but from a distance, she¡¯d almost pass as human if not for the extra appendages.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    The fact she was a beastwoman was not what caught his eyes, however. Instead, it was the confidence she walked with that was sorely lacking from every single other initiate there. Her left hand thumbed the pommel of a shortsword strapped to her waist, a cursory glance confirming a similar shortsword on her right side. All of decent make from what he could tell.

    Her armor was mostly leather with the occasional iron plate over vital areas, but judging from her weapons, a lighter armor made sense. She had chosen her armor because it suited her style; he doubted the rest of those gathered even had a fighting style beyond ¡®pointing the sharp bit forward¡¯.

    The shortswords were the real giveaway, however. He could not see the blades through their sheaths, but the cross-guards were detailed with some sort of animal head while the pommels gleamed.

    That sort of care did not go into a weapon one did not own, and even then not unless it was made of steel at the very least.

    The fact she was at initiation told him that she had no noble backer, perhaps unsurprising for a beastwoman, and as such, they both had to ¡®earn¡¯ their positions as an adventurer instead of through an acknowledgment like most nobles did.

    No matter her past, she had potential at the very least, and he even considered approaching her and offering a position in his future party but held off. Even if she were a gem in the rough, he would be better served waiting until he could recruit a proper party of other nobles once he climbed his way up the ranks to them. An uncut gem was certainly interesting, but why settle when he was so close to working with proper diamonds.

    Still, at least there was someone else who seemed half-way competent among the initiates, it helped to alleviate some of the indignity he felt at being lumped alongside all the oafish lowborns.

    A few more initiates slowly trickled into the glade until the sun reached a third of the way through the sky and the members of the adventurers guild who had been sent to corral initiates from the gate assembled to form a small group before them. From their midst, a spokesman broke off, his expression stern as he addressed the mostly nervous initiates.

    ¡°The initiation exam for the Torid Adventurer¡¯s guild will now begin. Behind me is a dungeon that the guild maintains. We¡¯ll be walking through and finding monster groups for you to face off against in teams of four to five. In order to pass, you just need to survive all your encounters¡ª¡±

    He was met with a flurry of nervous chatter at the revelation but managed to quiet them down with some hand waving. ¡°So long as you stay calm, no one will die here. The other adventurers and myself are all bronze-ranked, and the five of us will be watching over you. If a group of monsters is too big or powerful, we¡¯ll trim them down to a reasonable level. If one of you is in danger, we¡¯ll come in to save you. Should that happen, however, you will fail the initiation. You¡¯ll also fail if you retreat from a fight without a valid reason. Otherwise, all you need to know is that those of you with talent might start a bit ahead of the others in the Guild. Perform well and be rewarded. That is the adventurer¡¯s motto.¡±

    That got Leon¡¯s attention. He had been angry to learn that he would be forced to work his way up from the bottom ranks of the guild along with the failures he was currently surrounded with. It would be a kindness to suggest he would be working his way up from the dirt; more aptly, he would have been working his way up from the bedrock below the dirt.

    This merit system that the initiation seemed to have was therefore a welcome surprise. It would save him months of time and needless effort rising through the ranks. Any further idle thoughts were cut off as the adventurer continued.

    ¡°Each person will be put through four fights with a randomized team each time. You all should have given your names to an adventurer waiting here.¡± He looked over them in a silent question, asking if anyone was actually dumb enough to have not signed in. Thankfully, no one stepped forward.

    ¡°Alright, then this is your last chance to bow out if you¡¯re afraid. The life of an adventurer ain¡¯t pretty¡ªit¡¯s dangerous work that¡¯ll kill those who are unready.¡± Looking around, he was unsurprised to find no one willing to leave, most of those here were either naive or desperate. Neither were conducive to reasonable decision making, reality would begin to set in during their first real fight, he was sure.

    The adventurer nodded his head at everyone¡¯s decision and made a gesture to the other adventurers. Half of them descended into the ruin while the other half took up a perimeter around the initiates. The spokesman turned around and waved for everyone to follow him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to it then,¡± he shouted as they descended into the dungeon.

 Chapter 5: Noble Observation

    The dungeon was not as interesting as Leon had hoped. It was difficult to tell if it was an actual historical ruin or just something the adventurers guild set up for this purpose.

    All the walls and pillars were adorned in imagery from various monster species; there were goblin banners hung over kobold skins which themselves were draped over walls covered in crude graffiti. Altogether, it made for a wholly bizarre experience, and he had little idea what sort of monster they¡¯d be encountering until they stumbled upon the first group of kobolds.

    They had simple wooden clubs, but he knew the real danger would come from their claws and fangs. Their copper scales also represented an armor that weak blades would have trouble cutting through.

    Even still, they were quite short, and the color of their scales was weaker than what he had read. Kobolds were a bronze-tier monster, and presumably most of the initiates did not possess bronze-tier stats. The guild must have specifically culled the monsters and malnourished them enough to make it a fair fight.

    Not that it would matter for one such as himself, his greatsword would cleave through the kobolds with ease whether they were unranked or bronze. Really, he was just hoping they would call him up and he could let loose a little.

    ¡°Syra, Corine, Carach, Felheim, Demetrius, you¡¯re up first.¡±

    His hopes were dashed as five initiates were called up. There was some interest to be found in the fact the beastwoman went up as well at least. She was really the only one that might prove themself anything here other than him.

    The five of them lined up opposite the five kobolds, four of the adventurers shaking slightly as they steeled their nerves. The kobolds also seemed quite anxious, but they at least had the excuse of facing well over twenty-five humans. It was pathetic for the initiates to be so nervous when there were barely any stakes involved, the worst that could happen would be a few cuts before an adventurer saved them.

    When it finally became clear that the kobolds wouldn¡¯t advance¡ªsomething they could hardly be blamed for, he felt¡ªthe initiates began slowly pushing forward. Idly, he wondered what would stop the kobolds from retreating against such overwhelming numbers, but assumed some of the adventures sent ahead were cutting off any chance of escape.

    As the initiates advanced at an infuriatingly slow pace, the kobolds slowly built their nerves as they realized they would not be swarmed by everyone at once. The kobolds readied their weapons, and when they deemed the initiates close enough, let loose a shrill scream before charging into them.

    Four of the initiates readied their identical shields and met the charge as a wall; they must have planned it while advancing. That left the beastwoman with her dual blades.

    From behind her companions¡¯ wall, she jumped over the lines and flipped herself around midair to face the enemy.

    One of the kobolds managed to spot her descent and swiped at her with its free claw, a decision that should have lessened the numbers against it and its allies by one. Indeed, that was what Leon expected to happen as being mid-air left precious little one could do to dodge an attack after all. Instead, he barely managed to follow as one of her shortswords snaked out to claim the kobold¡¯s hand before she landed low and thrust her other shortsword through its jaw and into its brain.

    Now behind their lines, she gave her shortswords a flourish to shake the brains off and lunged at the nearest target. Unable to prepare itself in time, the kobold was pushed off balance into the waiting masses of the shieldwall.

    Another turned to face her, only for the shield opposite to bash it in the face and it to be sent tumbling into the beastwoman¡¯s waiting blades. With three kobolds down, the tide quickly turned as the shieldwall overpowered the remaining two, and the initiates descended upon them.

    Observing from the back, Leon was surprised to find himself nodding along as the other onlookers cheered for their companions. It had been a clean victory, he had to admit, most of it having been due to the beastwoman and the opening she had provided, but even then, the shieldwall had managed to achieve their objective.

    He wondered if the other groups would try a similar tactic now that it had proven effective. Unfortunately for any would be copycats, without the beastwoman, they would undoubtedly be met with far less success.

    A shieldwall was only as strong as its weakest member, and without the Katiine there to quickly break the kobold formation, they would be stuck in a stalemate until one side gave. The reason for group one¡¯s decisive victory lay in the beastwoman¡¯s ability to execute and survive a frontal assault. She had managed due to her incredible agility, a blessing he doubted many, if any, of the other applicants possessed.

    Looking over the initiates before him, he was sure it would not be the kobolds who faltered for the majority of encounters. Pathetic, not one of them is even halfway decent. It¡¯d be easier to squeeze blood from a stone than make proper fighters out of them.Stolen novel; please report.

    Despite the success of the first group, there was no stopping to celebrate. The moment the final kobold fell, the senior adventurers were ushering them forward, deeper into the kobold-infested ruins.

    They moved until they ran into another small group of five kobolds, all copper and seeming just as weak as the last. Once again, his hopes were dashed aside as five more names were called up.

    As he watched the five gather, he realized that another not wearing the standard guild-lended gear was called with them. It was an interesting coincidence, and he had to wonder if that was on purpose. Give them a natural leader on the assumption that those with better gear would have at least an inkling of what to do. Presumably, that meant he would be called forward to fight with four ill-equipped strangers, hardly an issue against such monsters, merely more mana for him.

    As he expected, the new party formed a shield wall right off the bat and slowly advanced on the kobolds. It was almost a perfect replay of the last fight right down to the kobold screech and charge. Only this time, there was no beastwoman to break the enemy formation.

    The shieldwall met the charge and the two sides fought for dominance. From there, it went just as he expected. One of the flanks of the wall collapsed, and the kobold on that side burst through to attack the exposed initiate. From there, the other initiates stopped blocking and engaged the kobolds in single combat.

    All semblance of order disintegrated as the chaos of battle took hold. One kobold knocked a bearded initiate down and went in for a killing blow with their claws. Leon saw an adventurer approaching, ready to assist, before the properly equipped initiate slashed at the hand and blocked it.

    Unfortunately for him, his sword became lodged in the kobold¡¯s arm, and the murderous look in the monster¡¯s eyes told him that the initiate was not having any luck frantically trying to yank it out.

    The man was forced to release his weapon as the kobold swung at him with its other hand, but luckily, the bearded initiate he had saved finally found his footing and clubbed the kobold over the head with a mace before it could properly punish their savior.

    From there, it was a slow and brutal cleanup. The initiate who had lost his sword was forced to pick up a kobold mace once it was clear that he could not pull his weapon from the lizard¡¯s corpse without exposing himself to attacks, though not for lack of trying, and without his assistance, the others suffered even against the remaining kobolds.

    Eventually, they managed to put down the last kobold in a victory that left the entire group bloodied and tired. With their foes dead, the would-be swordsman was now finally able to pull his weapon from the kobold''s arm with some help from the others, and the five returned to the pack with tired grins.

    Once again, they were promptly ushered back into an amorphous blob one could generously call a formation and marched further through the dungeon until a new group of kobolds could be found.

    It was not long until a group came straggling into the light. This time, however, one of the kobolds stood out. They were a dark red rather than copper and stood at least a head taller than their peers. A small smile crept onto Leon¡¯s lips; this was a proper kobold.

    ¡°Rayne, Cald¡ª¡±

    Leon stepped forward to interrupt the adventurer before he could continue. ¡°I shall fight these ones,¡± he declared.

    The adventurer looked up from his list, his eyes possessed a little curiosity at Leon but importantly no anger. ¡°And you are?¡±

    He straightened out his back, this would be his initial impression among those grading him, and less importantly upon his soon to be guild juniors.

    ¡°Leon D¡­¡± He faltered as the next few words refused to leave his throat.

    Technically, he had no legal right to his last name anymore. That had not stopped him from using it until this point, but as he was now, almost penniless and without his support staff any longer, it might be unbecoming of his family name to claim it at the moment.

    Eyes stared at him, but once it became clear he would not continue, the adventurer returned to picking out names.

    ¡°Fine. Rayne, Caldwell, Terrance, Leon, and Samara. Get at ¡®em.¡±

    Stepping forward, he waited as his teammates gathered behind him awkwardly; they did not seem all that confident in themselves. Content in their silence, he turned his attention and studied his foes¡ªfour coppery kobolds and the darker red one. They would hardly be a threat to him; kobolds were nothing without their pack after all.

    As the silence dragged on, one of his teammates eventually decided to speak up. He was shorter than Leon by a few inches, standing perhaps a shade under six feet tall. That plus his chestnut brown hair and an uneasy if determined gaze from his brown eyes meant that he cut an unimposing stature. His body seemed lithe, but Leon assumed that was more from poor nutrition rather than choice.

    ¡°I think we should form a shield wall as well.¡± He took a pause at that and looked at them each as if to ask if they might disagree, when none did, he continued a bit more confidently. ¡°With four of us holding them back, Leon can use his greatsword¡¯s reach to dismantle their formation safely.¡±

    The others nodded happily. While Leon could give the boy that it was not a bad plan, he was still forced to shake his head. It simply would not be needed here.

    ¡°I shall go in alone. You four may clean up any that attempt to flee.¡±

    The others stared at him dumbfounded, and Leon had to suppress a snort. Did they seriously think he was cut from the same cloth as themselves?

    ¡°I know you want the reward, man, but you can¡¯t just take on five kobolds by yourself. When you overreach and get yourself killed, you¡¯ll be screwing the rest of us over.¡±

    It was the brown-haired boy who protested against him, and judging by how the others looked at him, they were all in agreement on this. It appeared as if the boy had been elected as something of an unofficial leader purely because he spoke first. Well, they may have decided that this qualified him to be their leader, but Leon surely had not.

    Refusing to even deign them with a verbal response, he instead turned his back to them and drew his weapon to demonstrate his dissent. As he advanced, he heard them quickly mutter words to each other, trying to work up a plan around what they no doubt saw as his recklessness.

    Chuckling silently, he approached the wary kobolds. These commoners were about to see what a true noble could accomplish.

    He hoped they realized the honor.

 Chapter 6: A Difference of Class

    A rush of excitement and anticipation coursed through Leon¡¯s body as his blade sang towards the first copper kobold.

    The monsters had quickly surrounded him as he walked towards them alone, but that was fine, it meant he would not need to chase any down or waste his movements. From his peripheries, Leon was also aware that his own team was advancing to capitalize on the kobolds¡¯ distraction. He would need to finish this before they could properly spring their flank.

    The kobold he swung at ducked under his blade and lunged for his exposed waist. Drawing his sword back, he kicked at the opportunistic lizard. His foot connected like a cannonball and blasted the kobold back into the wall, a loud crack of its skull echoing through the dungeon. It had not deterred the monster''s companions, but he took some small pleasure at the fact that he could no longer hear the other initiates advancing.

    His blade was brought back up to block a kobold¡¯s club while he sidestepped and allowed another to sail by his legs. Smashing the pommel of his blade into the one he had blocked, he stabbed into the leg of the one who had lunged past him. The rhymesteel made short work of tearing through the leg and tripping the kobold onto the stone floor.

    In one quick movement, he pulled his sword back out from under the beast, leaving the dismembered monster where it lay, before he brought it back up and stabbed through the first one¡¯s heart.

    He noticed that the red one and the last copper one were too distracted by the paused initiates to present a threat. It likely saved him from one or two scratch marks caused by having to contend with five simultaneous enemies, but it by no means meant that he would allow them the kills.

    Crushing the now one-legged kobold¡¯s face beneath one of his boots, he went in to stab the last copper monster through the back of its head. Now facing the rest of the initiates again, he could clearly see the looks of awe etched on their faces. Even some of the adventurers seemed surprised at his skills.

    That¡¯s right. I do not belong here with these peasant dreamers. Make sure you remember that.

    As the last copper kobold slid down his blade, he brought his attention back to the red one who just now seemed to realize it was without allies.

    Without much of any choice, it screeched at him and charged, no doubt faster than many of the initiates could hope to follow. Leon was no mere commoner adventurer, though, nor was he a dreamer.

    He kept his blade low until the kobold was within range, and then brought it up in a diagonal slash. The metal sliced through the red kobold as if it were a knife through paper. The two halves of the kobold fell before him as he shook the blood from his blade. The rest of his team lowered their shields now that the battle was won and looked over to him expectantly.

    ¡°Your assistance was appreciated.¡± He nodded to them to let them know they had saved him some small trouble. It would not do to catch an infection or deal with undue bleeding.

    Refusing to admit to being reckless, he could acquiesce that he had let his irritation drive him towards a flashier fight. The next battle would be approached with caution and more carefully to ensure that he was not surrounded again.

    His teammates had mixed reactions to his words. One looked up at him with a reverent awe, one was still staring at the kobold bodies; the last two, however, regarded him with narrow eyes and pinched expressions. They seemed mad at something, likely frustrated that they had to compete with him for the rewards that the adventurer had promised.

    ¡°I am sure they will reward more than just the best performer. Maintain your morale, you had a sound strategy, even if it was ultimately unnecessary.¡±

    While he would not apologize for his skills, he hoped that his words would at least alleviate some of the tension. It instead seemed to stroke their competitive natures if the widening and subsequent narrowing of their eyes was anything to go off of.

    Thinking nothing of it, he returned to the group as they departed, content at least with having helped the common folk find their drive.

    Many of the other initiates attempted to chat with him now that they were walking again, but he steadfastly ignored them. He was not here to make friends or accept any of their requests to join sure-to-be pathetic adventuring parties. Keeping his shoulders high and eyes forward, he marched with the rest of them in search of more foes.

    ~

    That was how they continued for some time, mindless chatter around him sporadically interrupted by a kobold encounter.

    Names would be rattled off and unimpressive fights would take place. He had failed to notice that initiates were beginning their second rounds of combat until he recognized the name of the beastgirl being called.

    Her second fight was as impressive as the first. She quickly dispatched two to three kobolds while the rest were held by a shield wall and then finally cleared up.

    Most fights seemed to involve a shield wall, the only one that had not thus far having been his own. They worked a bit more than half the time, he supposed. Even when they failed, the initiates were able to mount a halfway effective fight.

    Still, it showed a lack of imagination or boldness he would have liked to have seen. No one wished to attempt a new idea lest it fail, and so relied on the only method they had seen.

    He shook his head. Perhaps having referred to the people here as bedrock was a compliment¡ªeven bedrock was capable of being built upon. They would not grow if they never tried anything new; this stagnant thinking would lead to their deaths in less forgiving circumstances.

    His ruminations were halted as he caught sight of the newest team stepping forward. They arranged themselves before the kobolds but were not arrayed in the standard shield wall line. Instead, they were like an arrow, the one member in chainmail with an actual weapon standing at the tip while the others fanned out close behind her on each flank.

    It was a curious formation, they likely hoped to split the kobolds and break any cohesion that the monsters may have. It was not necessarily an improvement to the standard strategy, as putting the focal point on the head of their arrow would make it more susceptible to getting attacked by multiple enemies at once. It did, however, protect the flanks more readily and provide greater organization than the opponent. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Either way, he found himself paying more attention than he had for the other groups. Even the beast girl¡ªSarah, he thought her name was¡ªhad fallen into a comfortably boring though well-executed strategy. He would not deny being any different; they had the strength to execute such plans safely, and they were wholly effective after all.

    His attention was brought back to the arrow formation as it descended upon the kobolds. They predictably lumped onto the head and attacked her from multiple sides. If not for the two flanks occasionally bashing their opponents, he had no doubt that the tip of the arrow would quickly fold. Still, it didn¡¯t seem they were attacking enough to properly take down their opponents while they were disorganized. Instead of directly engaging, it seemed the edges of the arrow were spilling around the kobolds.

    Leon scoffed; they were wasting their initiative to reposition. Even their arrowhead was falling back from the multisided attacks.

    The kobolds rushed into the hole she left to try and finish her off, which was when the edges of the arrow began attacking. It seemed that while he was focused on the arrow tip, the edges had grouped up behind the kobolds. The kobolds were now completely surrounded and helpless as the initiates beat them down from all sides.

    He was not entirely sure what had happened himself. One moment, the kobolds seemed poised to break their formation, and the next, they had found themselves enveloped on four sides.

    It was a relatively bloodless victory all things considered, even their arrowhead was relatively unhurt thanks to the support on her flanks.

    He continued to think on the fight as the group moved on. It seemed like he was not the only one as a few more groups attempted to begin their fights in an arrow formation, but none seemed able to pull it off as that first group had and quickly everyone reverted back to the standard linear shield wall.

    Thoughts on the matter were interrupted as he felt someone brush up beside him. So far, he had been resolutely ignoring all the other initiates with steadfast resolve and was about to do similar for this one until he glanced over and saw who it was; chainmail armor and a pixie cut, it was the girl from the arrow team.

    ¡°You¡¯re pretty impressive, y¡¯know.¡±

    Rolling his eyes at the compliment that had been heaped upon him all day, he immediately considered ignoring her as he had everyone prior if not for the curiosity he still harbored.

    ¡°Your battle was also impressive. The strategy you employed was unexpected.¡±

    She stood a little taller at his acknowledgment, no doubt proud to have received accolades from someone such as himself.

    ¡°We were pretty good, barely a scratch on any of us. Hardly a surprise, though; I wasn''t going to let the plan go tits up with me at the head.¡±

    He tried not to cringe at her crude vernacular as she continued.

    ¡°Can¡¯t take all the credit, though. Wasn¡¯t my plan¡ªI was just the centerpiece.¡±

    That was a shame. It had been one of the other commoners who had come up with it then. The disappointment at that reveal must have shown as a slightly annoyed twinge swept over her face.

    ¡°You¡¯re a noble, aren¡¯t ya? I didn¡¯t think they needed to take initiation like us,¡± she spoke nonchalantly, but he could see the crude attempt at holding his attention for what it was.

    ¡°I was a noble. My family¡­¡± Struggling for the proper words, he eventually just went for the simplest answer, ¡°Our titles were revoked.¡±

    A gasp seemed to escape the girl outside her control. She quickly regained control, however, and offered a sympathetic smile.

    ¡°Damn, you musta been young when it happened, huh?¡± At his despondent nod, she continued. ¡°Hardly your fault then. Can¡¯t blame a kid for their parents'' mistakes.¡±

    A familiar anger bubbled inside him. How dare she mock his parents. Noble he may no longer have been, but nobles his parents had died. There was no way more glorious to have served than to have died in the war.

    Petty vultures had descended on their house only after they were cold and in the ground. As far as he was concerned, it was the fault of the power hungry and dishonorable, those who had been given the privilege to rise above their station and repaid it by conspiring against their lord''s orphaned son. Right here and now, the girl standing beside him trying to court his opinion looked like nothing more than another stray dog cozying up to a lion, eagerly eyeing the scraps of his hunt.

    ¡°I will not allow a commoner to cast aspersions upon my house. If I wished for conversation, I would speak with the kobolds.¡± With that, he left the armored woman behind. It would not do for him to be further baited into anger.

    It was lucky then that he was called up to another fight; it would be good for him to work off some of his rage. This time, he allowed his teammates to advance with him if only to take pressure off of himself. Even still, he managed to wipe out four of the kobolds singlehandedly before returning to the group and marching on.

    The day largely continued as such. Initiates began to be weeded out as those less capable tired. The interval between his battles became shorter with less teams needing to fight.

    For the most part, he did not pay attention to other groups fighting. Occasionally, he may spare a glance to gauge how the Katiine was faring, which seemed to be about as well as himself, but he would otherwise just ponder if his stats were increasing from the accumulated mana.

    Every now and again, however, a team would come out with a new strategy and pull off a decisive victory over the kobolds without himself or the Katiine aiding them.

    Pleased to see that some of the initiates were capable of tactical reasoning, even if most of the fights were still the standard shield wall, he kept an eye for whoever was organizing them. Presumably, it was one particular initiate, but by the time he had figured that out, it was too late to isolate their name from the others.

    They did not continue all the way to the boss of the dungeon as he may have hoped, the toughest foes they faced being red kobolds every few encounters.

    As the last group finished the final kobold detachment, the adventurers unceremoniously guided them out of the dungeon. Those ahead must have cleared any kobolds from attacking them on the way out, which meant it was a long and boring walk back outside.

    Not particularly enthused at the achievement of passing, he instead focused on the fact that tomorrow he would be able to accept missions.

    It had been a long few weeks since his nanny had died. In that time, he had had to take care of the expenses and had realized how bad a position they had been put in. Evicted from his home in the Noble District, he had been pilfered of many of their possessions just to pay off the loans accrued in the years since his family had fallen.

    He steadfastly refused to resent his nanny for any of her decisions. She had provided him with a childhood where he had been able to train, learn, and live comfortably. It was only expected that as an adult he would now need to fend for himself and earn his own way.

    Perhaps had they lived in the Old Quarter as he did now, then the money might have lasted another number of years. Shaking his head, he swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

    No, remember nanny¡¯s words. ¡°Living as a merchant was no way for a noble to be presenting themself.¡±

    The irony of the statement stung.

    In truth, he savored the walk through the forest back to Torid. His temporary ¡®lodgings¡¯ left a foul taste in the mouth, literally and figuratively, but they would need to suffice for the time being regardless of how repugnant they were.

    There was a bit of extra coin leftover, perhaps he would buy himself a nicer meal for the night in celebration of becoming an adventurer. Not like he would need to worry about coin too much anymore. Starting from tomorrow, he would begin his legend.

    Ignoring the anxiety he felt settling in his stomach, he continued to march with the other initiates, eyes focused forward and face set in a neutral expression.

    Starting from tomorrow, everything would be okay.

 Chapter 7: Endnitiation

    The fatigue in Rayne¡¯s bones was absolute, but he forced himself to follow the group as they headed back to Torid. Beside him, two adventurers carried a man on a stretcher, and another toted a saw on their shoulder, its blade still dark with blood from the limb they had amputated with it.

    Rayne felt a shiver run through him. Somehow, he had managed to make it through the initiation, but it had not been easy. With each step they had taken, the enemies in the ruin had grown stronger. The kobolds who inhabited the back end of the dungeon were incomparable to those they had dispatched at the front, at least twice as strong, if not more, and several initiates had been cut down as a result. Others had seen the writing on the wall and dropped out, preferring to keep their lives rather than risk continuing any further.

    Of course, for some, the increased difficulty had not posed any problem at all. They had continued to slaughter any kobold that dared to stand before them. His eyes flickered towards the front of the group where the noble pretender walked. Moving as if the death of the man beside him had nothing to do with him.

    It felt unfair to blame the noble¡ªLeon, he recalled¡ªbut it was the truth. Among all of the candidates, Leon had stood out the most. Although the Katiine with the dual blades had been pretty good herself, Leon was the true star of today¡¯s show, and everyone had known it.

    For reasons unknown to Rayne, the dead man had attempted to emulate that performance. Perhaps he had wanted to stand out, or maybe he had been jealous of the attention showered upon Leon. Whatever his reasons, he had stepped forward to sweep away the kobolds, and had immediately been forced to confront his own lack of talent. Leon had brute strength and his ability to wield the greatsword to rely on. The dead man had nothing of the sort, and as a result, he had been overwhelmed.

    With only four even less talented initiates to back him up, his fate had been sealed. By the time the adventurers had arrived, it had already been too late. For the first time today, the kobolds had scored a kill, and it sent ripples of fear through the minds of every initiate.

    In a way, it had been a good thing. The atmosphere among the initiates¡ªwho until then had been treating the kobolds as easy prey thanks to the dominating performance of several parties¡ªhad immediately darkened. Although a few other initiates had gotten injured or dropped out after sustaining injuries, the would-be noble¡¯s would-be imitator had been the only one to die.

    Glancing at the corpse one last time, Rayne shook his head. It was a sobering reminder of just how dangerous adventuring actually was. Not only that, it was a perfect reminder of why Issa was so against him doing this. Even if the money was good, the risks were high, and any day could be your last. If he wanted to come home each day, then he would need to make sure never to overestimate his own skills as this poor fool had.

    The thought of Issa caused Rayne to stand up straighter. Adventuring was dangerous, but he was doing it for her. In order to support his sister, this was the life he must now lead, and there could be no looking back. From today onwards, he was a clerk no more. Although it had been far from a cushy life, it had been a safe one, and he had taken that for granted.

    Well, no longer. If he did not want to wind up like the lifeless pile of skin and bones on the stretcher beside him, he would need to get stronger, and he planned to do just that. He just needed to figure out how¡­

    ¡°Rayne, right?¡±

    Distracted from his thoughts by a sudden voice to his left, Rayne looked sideways to find a pair of fluffy triangular ears at eye level. Slightly below that sat a pair of eager yellow eyes, slitted like a cat¡¯s, which looked at him with interest.

    Suddenly remembering his manners, Rayne nodded. ¡°That¡¯s me. You¡¯re¡­ Syra, correct?¡±

    A grin lit up the beastgirl¡¯s face. ¡°Yup! After we got paired up together, I started watching you. You¡¯re not bad, you know that?¡±

    With a surprised look, Rayne accepted the compliment. ¡°Thanks? Although, I¡¯m afraid you must have me confused with someone else. Not bad is the last thing I would call my showing today.¡±

    Syra shook her head. ¡°Combat-wise, sure. You suck with a blade, and I can tell that those hands of yours have never held anything bigger than a kitchen knife. But I was in your party, and I saw how everyone performed today. Every single person who got paired up with you had their best round of the day. Even that guy posing as a noble.¡± She punched his arm playfully. ¡°Good fighters are a copper a dozen, but those with a brain are a lot rarer.¡±

    Rubbing his arm where she had struck it, Rayne regarded her. ¡°Fair enough, but if we¡¯re talking standouts, it surely has to be you or poser, right? Both of you were amazing today.¡±

    Rather than blushing at the praise, Syra took it in stride. ¡°Yeah, but I know I¡¯m good. And poser probably thinks the same of himself. We¡¯re the obvious stars. You¡¯re the diamond in the rough.¡± Dropping any pretense, she stared intensely at him. ¡°Which is why I¡¯m here to scout you. Form a party with me. With your brains and my general awesomeness, we¡¯ll break through into the bronze-rank in no time.¡±

    This threw Rayne for a loop, and he held up a hand to forestall her. ¡°Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean ¡®break through into the bronze-rank¡¯? Aren¡¯t we already bronze-ranks now that we¡¯ve passed the initiation?¡±

    ¡°Wow, you really don¡¯t know anything.¡± Syra regarded him sympathetically. ¡°All we¡¯ve earned today is the right to take on commissions. But we¡¯re not adventurers yet. In order to earn the bronze-rank badge and the right to call ourselves adventurers, we need to complete twenty-five basic commissions. Do that, and we become proper adventurers and can start to take on the good missions.¡±

    Feeling his head begin to hurt, Rayne sighed. ¡°The good missions being those that actually pay proper wages, I assume?¡±

    ¡°Bingo.¡±

    A sigh escaped Rayne¡¯s lips. ¡°Perfect. Just perfect. Well, thanks for letting me know, I guess.¡±

    Syra tilted her head. ¡°You got money problems?¡±

    With a terse nod, Rayne indicated yes, though he did not elaborate, and thankfully, Syra let it go.

    Offering him a slight shrug, she looked forward to where the walls of Torid could be seen in the distance. ¡°Well, not to try and take advantage of you or anything. But partying up with me could be your ticket out of poverty, or whatever reason you have to need money.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I can¡¯t accomplish that on my own?¡± Rayne demanded.

    Looking him up and down, Syra chuckled. ¡°No offense, but I saw your bladework. Even if you do turn out to have potential, it¡¯s going to be rough for you to go it alone. But with me, that¡¯s all solved. I can take care of combat, and you can help with the more brainy things. Between us, we make a perfect pair. Split all the profits seventy-thirty, and take every job we can get our hands on.¡±

    Rayne pretended to consider it for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re willing to give me seventy percent?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Well, no reason for me to turn that down. You¡¯ve got a deal.¡± He thrust his hand out for a handshake, causing Syra to look at him strangely. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°No. I get the seventy.¡± She gave him a hard look. ¡°Although I suspect you knew that. You can¡¯t fight. Why would you get the larger share?¡±

    He gave her another shrug. ¡°You approached me. That means I have something you want. Which means I have leverage. So of course I should be the one to get the higher percentage.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait.¡± Waving her arms, Syra took a step back, then pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Sixty-forty,¡± she said at last. ¡°Sixty for me. Forty for you.¡±

    ¡°Fifty-five, forty-five. I¡¯m the fifty-five,¡± Rayne counter-offered.

    She looked as though she wanted to shout at him, but suppressed it. Mustering a smile, she stretched out her hand. ¡°Fifty-fifty. Final offer.¡± When Rayne appeared to hesitate, she pressed on. ¡°This is as good as you¡¯re going to get. You¡¯re good, but you need someone with actual battle skills if you want to do anything as an adventurer.¡±

    It was a good offer, and one that tempted him sorely. But if Rayne had learned one thing in the past six years of surviving without parents, it was that there was no such thing as a free lunch. And that giving in too easily made future negotiations harder.

    Folding his arms, Rayne lifted an eyebrow in challenge. ¡°In that case, why would I not just go and ask Leon to join me? If what I need is the strongest sword, then surely he¡¯s the best option, no?¡±

    A snort escaped Syra¡¯s lips. ¡°The poser? I mean, you can if you want. But if it was me, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d even make it to bronze-rank before the desire to strangle him overcame my sense of reason. But if you really want to¡­¡±

    At this, Rayne finally broke. Giving her a smile, he offered his hand, which she immediately shook. ¡°I¡¯ll be in your care.¡±

    ¡°Glad to see you finally see reason. I have to say, I didn¡¯t expect you to take so much convincing. It hurts my pride a little.¡±

    This got a laugh out of Rayne. ¡°Can¡¯t make things too easy. That was one thing my father always emphasized. If you make it easy, you¡¯ll be taken advantage of. Always fight for what you¡¯re worth. And like you said, I¡¯m worth a whole lot.¡±

    ¡°Easy now.¡± Giving his arm another punch, Syra shook her head. ¡°Sheesh, you give a guy one compliment and it goes straight to his head.¡± Shaking her head a little longer for effect, she grew serious. ¡°Just a warning, but I have aspirations. I have to become a silver-tier adventurer as soon as possible, and I¡¯m willing to do just about anything to achieve that. If you¡¯re not able to help me with that, then I¡¯ve got no use for you.¡±

    Rayne nodded understandingly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t slow you down. So long as the money keeps flowing, I¡¯ll be there beside you. That much I can promise.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re agreed.¡± Sticking out her arm once more, Syra shook his hand a second time. ¡°Meet me at the guildhall tomorrow two hours before noon. Twenty-five commissions is a lot, but between the two of us, I think we can knock them out pretty quickly.¡±

    During their talk, the forest had given way to fields, the walls of Torid offering shelter for the many farmers who ploughed the land just beyond. From here, they were only a few minutes from entering the city, but surprisingly, Syra seemed ready to take her leave. With one last reminder to meet at the guildhall at ten bells tomorrow, she was off, bounding over the fence and across a field with a grace that Rayne found almost unnatural.

    Left alone with his thoughts once more, Rayne¡¯s mind turned to a more immediate problem than his rendezvous with the graceful beastwoman tomorrow. Namely, how he was going to hide the day¡¯s activities from Issa. Praying that the guildhall had a shower, he followed the rest of the group through the gates and into the city. Kobolds were scary, but kid sisters were even moreso.

    Wracking his mind in order to come up with what was going to have to be his greatest strategy of the day, Rayne entered Torid. As the gates slammed shut behind them, he felt a feeling of relief and accomplishment wash over him. Having safely returned, his first adventure was now finally behind him.

    Somehow, he had done it. Defeated the kobolds, survived initiation, and even found his first party member. He had officially taken his first step into the world of adventurers, and done so without embarrassing himself.

    With a soft smile, he returned his armor to the guild and grabbed his clothes from the locker. There was a bathhouse in the back of the guildhall, and he used this to scrub off the dirt and grime from the ruin, taking care not to make himself too clean lest Issa wonder why he had bathed before coming to get her.

    Finally finished, he headed out, ready to face the biggest trial of the day: his little sister.

    ~

    Issa was waiting for him when he arrived at the gates of the Academy, and she pushed off against the wall, running to meet him with a huge smile on her face.

    ¡°Brother!¡± she greeted, skidding to a stop just in front of him as she launched into a hug.

    With a grunt, Rayne felt the air leave his lungs, and he let out an involuntary groan as muscles sore from a day of adventuring were squeezed tight. Forcing himself to respond, he gave her a squeeze in return, then pushed her away before she could attack any more of his aching muscles.

    ¡°Hey, Issa,¡± he replied. ¡°How was your day?¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± she replied cheerily, settling in beside him as they began to walk back home. ¡°Turns out I aced that test from last week, and Professor Hanah was saying that everything we covered will be present on the midterm, so that means my preparations haven¡¯t been in vain.¡±

    Her arms swung wildly as she talked, her entire body animated as she relayed the events of her day to him. Rayne could not help but smile. His sister¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, though his mood was dampened when she asked him about his own day.

    ¡°Oh, you know how it goes,¡± he responded evasively. ¡°Some days are harder than others. Gotta fight for everything these days. But it all works out in the end.¡±

    Issa seemed to accept this, but she must have sensed something in his tone, for she put a hand on his forearm. ¡°Are you sure that everything¡¯s okay?¡± Her eyes were large, and she gazed imploringly at him. ¡°Because I can help, Rayne. You know I can. There¡¯s no need to shoulder everything yourself.¡±

    Wrenching his arm away with a little more force than he had intended, Rayne shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Issa.¡±

    His sister looked hurt, and Rayne felt guilty. Casting around for a conversation topic, he seized upon the first thing that came to mind. ¡°Hear any more rumors?¡±

    With a pensive look, Issa shook her head, her hair falling in waves around her as she did. ¡°Nope. I spent the entire day in class or studying. There was no time to talk with anyone.¡±

    As Rayne made a noncommittal noise, she suddenly came to a stop.

    Confused, he looked at her, only to see her examining his face closely. ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked, concerned that he had been found out.

    ¡°One sec, you¡¯ve got some dirt on you.¡± Reaching up, she licked her thumb and then used it to rub at a spot on his forehead. Only after a few seconds did she finish, standing back to admire her handiwork. ¡°How did you manage that?¡± she asked as they resumed walking.

    Rayne shrugged, doing his best to appear nonchalant though his heart was racing as he came up with a response. ¡°I dropped some papers on the ground today. Must¡¯ve gotten some dirt on my hands picking them up, and then when I went to rub the sweat off my brow.¡±

    With an understanding nod, Issa looked forward. ¡°It¡¯s been so hot recently. The classroom was super stuffy today which sucked.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t have the magical cooling on?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°They did, but it still wasn¡¯t enough. Professor Iain says we need to upgrade the system. But apparently, they¡¯re waiting on a shipment of new mana crystals from the north. Until those arrive, we¡¯re stuck dealing with this interminable heat.¡± Sneaking a glance at him, she smiled. ¡°However, I suppose I can¡¯t complain since we have some cooling after all. I bet it¡¯s way worse in your office.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± Rayne promised.

    She giggled. ¡°And thank the gods for that. Now tell me, brother, what fantastic meal shall we enjoy today?¡±

    Rayne pretended to put on a thoughtful expression. ¡°Well, I was thinking of beginning with a scrumptious course of potato, carrot, and scallion stew. Afterwards, we¡¯ll wash that down with¡ª¡±

    ¡°No bread?¡± she asked, her eyes wide.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid they were all out when I arrived,¡± Rayne lied. He had no idea whether or not the baker had sold out or not. But with the new price of bread, and having not worked today, they could not afford a loaf, and even if they could, he had not been to the market today. ¡°Maybe tomorrow.¡±

    Issa sighed. ¡°Ah well. In that case, I suppose I¡¯ll have to settle for my brother¡¯s world famous stew for the twelfth day running.¡± Grinning at him to show that she was joking, she raced ahead. ¡°Come on, brother! Any longer out here and we¡¯ll melt into the cobblestones!¡±

    Forcing strength into his tired legs, Rayne overtook her in an instant. Turning, he stuck out his tongue in an obvious challenge, a smile on his lips as the two siblings raced home in the evening heat.