Silence greeted me upon my arrival to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild.
An appropriate response. That someone of my hygiene standards would willingly return to a place infested with rodents was deserving of stunned awe. And there were likely mice here, too.
Even so, it was not due to my grand return that a respectable quiet welcomed me.
Instead, it was due to the fact the guild hall was empty of louts.
Spilled cups. A leaking cauldron. Upturned chairs. Platters of food lying cold.
A scene indicative of a hasty retreat.
I nodded with satisfaction.
My, wasn’t this a glorious triumph? Not only had I done away with the pirates digging up our fair coast, but I’d done away with the hoodlums masquerading as working members of society as well!
Indeed, today was a good day–and would be all the way until the solitary receptionist at the desk told me otherwise in 5, 4, 3, 2 …
“Good morning,” she said, her smile as immaculate as her sitting posture. “Welcome back to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. How may I help you?”
I pursed my lips.
Few things scared me. Roland’s juvenile pranks came closest. Unidentifiable stains came next.
But these receptionists …
They were, frankly, not quite right.
It didn’t matter which one it was, or where they were based. Every receptionist was seemingly chosen for their ability to smile even as daily anarchy raged like a maelstrom around them.
I did not fault them for their professionalism.
Indeed, I acknowledged it.
But I also acknowledged that their ceaseless smiles were highly disconcerting. All the more so when they did it in an empty room. I spied that same smile before the guild door had even begun creaking open.
“Yes, you can help me,” I answered. “Why, I suppose you can start by informing me of which broom you employed to dust away the ruffians. It’s rare to see these halls as anything but a den of boisterous squalor. If it’s for sale, I wish to purchase it.”
“I apologise, but no such broom is available for purchase. However, if you’re inquiring about the whereabouts of our regular adventurers, then the majority are currently adhering to the emergency commission issued by Lady Teresa Malbeaux.”
I looked around the hastily emptied hall.
“Did Lady Teresa issue an emergency commission to consume a spilled keg blocking the merchant roads?”
“No. The commission is regarding the pirate affiliated vessel docked at the harbour. They were tasked with supporting the garrison should an assault on Trierport be forthcoming.”
I gave it a moment’s thought.
Then, I nodded.
“I see. An excellent decision by Lady Teresa. If this were a pirate assault, then the adventurers would prove excellent cannon fodder. An astute method to reduce damage to infrastructure, deplete the ship’s armaments and lower the number of louts all in one manoeuvre. I applaud her ingenuity. This will be noted.”
The receptionist merely blinked.
“The emergency commission doesn’t stipulate a requirement to act as a bodily shield. In fact any adventurer faced with overwhelming risk of death or injury would be expected to withdraw.”
I rolled my eyes.
This explained why they were all absent. If they were not even required to stand their ground in the face of certain doom, then this was an emergency commission to fund their rampant procrastination when they eventually returned.
Ugh. I could already see the next cauldron being directly drunk from. An image worthy of a shudder. And also my swift departure.
“Very well. As it so happens, I’m also here regarding the emergency commission. Specifically, to inform you it’s wholly unnecessary and to divert all funds to me instead. The ship docked at the harbour is property of the kingdom.”
“Excuse me? But it–”
“It previously belonged to the leader of the pirates. I seized it. Now, what is the sum for doing away with the pirates who threatened the kingdom’s shores?”
The receptionist duly looked down at a document sitting on her desk.
“The current reward stands at 131,422 gold crowns.”
“Excellent. I’ll take it all.”
“... For seizing a pirate ship? Is this correct?”
“No. I did more than that. I scattered their leadership, dispersed a mockery of a soirée attended by ruffians with both eyes on this realm, rehabilitated the crew of an illicit bounty hunter using menial cleaning tasks, placed the first stone upon my soap prison island and brought security to Trierport in the form of an unfurnished, mildly scratched and also fully armed deterrent now in service to the kingdom. I have effectively banished organised piracy from these waters. I have fulfilled the conditions required to empty this guild’s vault. You may present your crowns here.”
I held up my bottomless pouch.
Then, I started tapping my foot. Any moment now.
“I apologise,” said the receptionist, her eyes not even seeing my pouch. “But I must request evidence before I’m authorised to dispense the reward associated with this commission.”
“The leader of the pirates can confirm his tale of humiliation. His name is Background Tree, but is also erroneously referred to as the Golden Prince.”
“I see. And where is he now?”
“On the ship. You may see the non-puffy bits of his face for yourself.”
The receptionist pretended to think about it.
Her hum was one I recognised anywhere. I used it myself, just before declining whatever was asked of me.
“Regrettably, I’m afraid I cannot leave my station. I’m the only staff member currently present in the hall. Do you have any trophies or spoils from either the ship or the Golden Prince you could present?”
No … I wanted to say.
Instead, I immediately turned to my loyal handmaiden.
She was already emptying her own pouch.
“Let’s see~” she said, the cheerful burglar all too happy to incriminate herself. “I have … a miniature hourglass, a sextant, a hand telescope, a tiny ship in a bottle, a palm sized nautical chart of the Emerald Sea and also a figurine of a fruit slime.”
I silently observed the bits and pieces of looted items dropping onto the receptionist’s desk. A silver whistle bounced before rolling off. The receptionist’s hand glowed with light, and it floated back to the desk.
“A fruit slime?” I queried.
“There was a dragon as well, but it was too big. Isn’t the fruit slime kind of neat, though? Look! It’s sculpted to be in the middle of a bounce!”
I peered at the figurine.
It was, well, immensely childish … yet even so, its shape was immaculately captured. The slight wrinkles in its spherical, if flattened shape was evidence of the toils of a mastercraftsman. A figurine worthy of admiration.
Not that I could reveal as much.
“Really, Coppelia. As useful as this evidence is to me right now, I’m less interested in toys as I am in why you appear to have a significant quantity of items looted from the captain’s quarters in your possession. Things the next captain will likely wish to use, I should add.”
“Eh, they’ll bring their own loot. Plus, I knew this would happen.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. I definitely wasn’t going to sell this stuff.” Coppelia paused. “... Unless you want me to sell this stuff?”
I raised an eyebrow, letting her know in no uncertain terms that the cost of the next patisserie inspection would be enjoyed by her.
And oh my, we just happened to be out of provisions.
The receptionist, meanwhile, examined the baubles on her desk. She spent particular time on the base of the hourglass and the sextant, examining its fine gloss like a gallery curator for imperfections in one of my award winning paintings.
A futile effort, of course. Many of my paintings were based on myself.
“Thank you,” said the receptionist, seemingly satisfied as she raised her head. “I can accept this as evidence of quest completion.”
I tensed, waiting for the stipulation. The counterpoint. The legal jargon.
It never came … although it really should have.
“Excuse me?”
“This is sufficient.”
“What is?” I peered down. “I see only a haphazard pile of low grade trinkets. How did you confirm the authenticity or the origin of any of these items?”
“I didn’t. None of these objects are magical in nature, nor do they contain any engravings which suggest they belong to any pirate captain.”
I nodded.
And then–
“I don’t understand.”
For a single moment, something eerily similar to a wince broke the receptionist’s professional facade. A greater victory than any I’d accomplished thus far.
“The declaration of an adventurer confirming the completion of a commission is the most important testimony. Irrefutable evidence is often unverifiable. To bring back spoils is, by and large, an expected formality. However, it does help when I sign off the documentation.”
“I see … and how, exactly, are your vaults not robbed every moment of their existence?”
“We expect all adventurers to adhere to the Guild Code. A deep element of trust is required for our organisation to function.”
“An element of trust which extends to dispensing 131,422 gold crowns?”
“Well, no,” admitted the receptionist, her shoulders slouching by a fraction of an inch. “But the presence of a pirate vessel in Trierport’s harbour without the sound of an accompanying battle suggests it’s no longer under their control. Furthermore, it arrives two nights after your public departure to remove the pirate threat. Coupled with navigational equipment accessible only to very wealthy captains, I believe this is sufficient evidence for me to provisionally err on the side of trust.”
I smiled.
Yes. She could trust me.
To financially ruin them all … oohhohohhohoohohoohohoho!
“I do what I do for the sake of the kingdom,” I said, my hand upon my chest. “As do you. And so I offer my gratitude for your stringent administrative work, if not exactly your lack of fanfare over my extraordinary achievement. Now, as soon as I have my crowns, I shall be off to continue being the only useful person in the kingdom. Once again, please empty your vault in here.”
I raised my bottomless pouch.
Once again, no clinking rush of coins filled my ears.
“I apologise, but I don’t have access to the vault. Only the guildmaster does, and he’s joined the adventurers in the harbour. I also believe a considerable amount of the promised funds still need to be collected.”
I sucked in a deep breath.
“Fine. So be it. Once your guildmaster has ceased loitering and you’ve whipped the merchant guilds to speed, please direct my reward to the Royal Estate here in Trierport.”
“The Royal Estate?”
“For use by the 1st Princess. You may consider it a … no, not a donation, that is for paupers. You may consider it a due and appropriate payment to the royal family, who rightfully deserve what is owed for their tireless defence of the realm.”
The receptionist blinked.
“Excuse me, but … are you confirming you wish to offer your entire reward to the kingdom?”
“Quite so.”
“The reward is 131,422 gold crowns.”
“A pittance. But it will do.”
At last, the professional smile fell from the receptionist’s face.
Instead, a look of stunned awe replaced it entirely.
Yes. I much preferred this one.
“I see … my apologies. I didn’t expect … well, it’s rare to see an adventurer with such heart and generosity. This is enough crowns to live a life of luxury.”
“Pfffhttt.”
I clasped my hands around my mouth.
Dangerous. Highly dangerous. She’d just said something so laughable I’d made an utterly unseemly noise.
“Um … ?”
“A muscle spasm. Pay it no mind.”
The receptionist peered uncertainly at me.
Only after several moments did she relax, a much kinder smile appearing as she held out her palm.
“If the reward isn’t a concern, then there’s only one thing left to do. If you would please provide me with your ring, I can confirm the quest completion.”
I felt the familiar tackle of exasperation as I slipped the abominable thing off.
However–
“Wait,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “I’ve seen this before.”
“Excuse me?”
“You … You’re going to promote me, are you not? Why, I can sense it!”
Indeed! There could be no mistake!
That gleam in her eyes! That mistaken belief she was offering a courtesy!
Why, she intended to haul me further up the ladder of shame … all confirmed by that look of sudden bewilderment!
“Well, I hoped it wasn’t obvious, but … yes? To commandeer the flagship of a pirate fleet is a remarkable feat, as is a D-rank adventurer completing an A+ rank quest. Additionally, a promotion is no less deserved for someone with the unprecedented achievement of completing 76 F-ranked commissions simultaneously. Many cat owners have left messages of gratitude. Would you like to see them?”
I ensured that my grimace perfectly reflected the toil in my heart.
“No, I do not. Furthermore, I have no wish to be promoted.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand? You have no wish for either payment or advancement?”
“Yes. Now if you could please confirm the commission reward will go to the Royal Estate and not the next drunkard to blunder in with tales of imagined exploits in their slurred speech, I can be on my way.”
I deposited the copper ring in the receptionist’s palm.
She responded by forgetting how to do her job.
“I don’t understand,” she repeated. “You’ve no desire to hear the gratitude of those you’ve helped, nor do you wish to receive a reward or recognition for it?”
“Correct.”
“... I see. So fame and fortune have no meaning on you … nor does the acknowledgement of those you help … truly, you’re like an adventurer of old.”
And then–
The receptionist clasped her hand and smiled.
“[Identify].”
A familiar burst of light seeped between her fingers.
Moments later, she offered the ring back to me. I accepted the thing reluctantly, eyeing it like the metalized plague it was before slipping it back on.
“Your ring has been updated,” she said smartly, her posture correcting itself. “Your reward for seeing to the threat of piracy endangering Trierport will be delivered to the Royal Estate in town, as per your request.”
“Excellent.”
“Also, congratulations–you’ve now risen to C-rank!”
Pwam.
I slammed my palms down on the desk. Immediately. Oh yes. I was ready!
“Why?!”
“My apologies, but even if you do not see the value in something as trifling as your rank, I do. It is a recognition of your worth.”
“What did I just say?! My wish was clear! No rising in rank! You … You people … You do this on purpose, don’t you?!”
“I cannot in good conscience allow your deeds to pass by quietly in the night. To rise above both coin and renown, you have the heart of a founding adventurer. I must apologise profusely. I severely mistook your character upon first sighting.”
“That … Isn’t that an insult?! What exactly did you think I was?!”
The receptionist sat up even straighter.
A satisfied, if rebellious blush of red fell across her cheeks as she committed what was likely her first act of unprofessionalism during her entire time sat behind a guild desk.
“As I said, I apologise. Yet even so, I hold no regrets. Should you wish to seek disciplinary measures against me, then I shall gratefully accept any sanction. It is a surer due than were your noble character to pass by unseen and unheard.”
My mouth widened in horror, and yet no words were able to leave.
But then again, nothing I said would have been heard.
“Ahahahahhahahaha~ … ahahahaaahhahahahah … ahahah … ahahahahah~”
Not over the sounds of a clockwork doll on her knees, desperately fighting the pain in her tummy as she filled the empty guild hall with enough echoing laughter to mimic a full common room.
Instead, I did what anyone else would do.
I raised my head and eyed a dark spot on the ceiling, arms limply by my sides as I watched my soul slowly leave me.
And that is how I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, came to rise to C-rank in the Adventurer’s Guild.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
Join my Patreon to read 20+ chapters ahead!
And don't forget to check out the Discord for fun and pictures!
Silence greeted me upon my arrival to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild.
An appropriate response. That someone of my hygiene standards would willingly return to a place infested with rodents was deserving of stunned awe. And there were likely mice here, too.
Even so, it was not due to my grand return that a respectable quiet welcomed me.
Instead, it was due to the fact the guild hall was empty of louts.
Spilled cups. A leaking cauldron. Upturned chairs. Platters of food lying cold.
A scene indicative of a hasty retreat.
I nodded with satisfaction.
My, wasn’t this a glorious triumph? Not only had I done away with the pirates digging up our fair coast, but I’d done away with the hoodlums masquerading as working members of society as well!
Indeed, today was a good day–and would be all the way until the solitary receptionist at the desk told me otherwise in 5, 4, 3, 2 …
“Good morning,” she said, her smile as immaculate as her sitting posture. “Welcome back to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. How may I help you?”
I pursed my lips.
Few things scared me. Roland’s juvenile pranks came closest. Unidentifiable stains came next.
But these receptionists …
They were, frankly, not quite right.
It didn’t matter which one it was, or where they were based. Every receptionist was seemingly chosen for their ability to smile even as daily anarchy raged like a maelstrom around them.
I did not fault them for their professionalism.
Indeed, I acknowledged it.
But I also acknowledged that their ceaseless smiles were highly disconcerting. All the more so when they did it in an empty room. I spied that same smile before the guild door had even begun creaking open.
“Yes, you can help me,” I answered. “Why, I suppose you can start by informing me of which broom you employed to dust away the ruffians. It’s rare to see these halls as anything but a den of boisterous squalor. If it’s for sale, I wish to purchase it.”
“I apologise, but no such broom is available for purchase. However, if you’re inquiring about the whereabouts of our regular adventurers, then the majority are currently adhering to the emergency commission issued by Lady Teresa Malbeaux.”
I looked around the hastily emptied hall.
“Did Lady Teresa issue an emergency commission to consume a spilled keg blocking the merchant roads?”
“No. The commission is regarding the pirate affiliated vessel docked at the harbour. They were tasked with supporting the garrison should an assault on Trierport be forthcoming.”
I gave it a moment’s thought.
Then, I nodded.
“I see. An excellent decision by Lady Teresa. If this were a pirate assault, then the adventurers would prove excellent cannon fodder. An astute method to reduce damage to infrastructure, deplete the ship’s armaments and lower the number of louts all in one manoeuvre. I applaud her ingenuity. This will be noted.”
The receptionist merely blinked.
“The emergency commission doesn’t stipulate a requirement to act as a bodily shield. In fact any adventurer faced with overwhelming risk of death or injury would be expected to withdraw.”
I rolled my eyes.
This explained why they were all absent. If they were not even required to stand their ground in the face of certain doom, then this was an emergency commission to fund their rampant procrastination when they eventually returned.
Ugh. I could already see the next cauldron being directly drunk from. An image worthy of a shudder. And also my swift departure.
“Very well. As it so happens, I’m also here regarding the emergency commission. Specifically, to inform you it’s wholly unnecessary and to divert all funds to me instead. The ship docked at the harbour is property of the kingdom.”
“Excuse me? But it–”
“It previously belonged to the leader of the pirates. I seized it. Now, what is the sum for doing away with the pirates who threatened the kingdom’s shores?”
The receptionist duly looked down at a document sitting on her desk.
“The current reward stands at 131,422 gold crowns.”
“Excellent. I’ll take it all.”
“... For seizing a pirate ship? Is this correct?”
“No. I did more than that. I scattered their leadership, dispersed a mockery of a soirée attended by ruffians with both eyes on this realm, rehabilitated the crew of an illicit bounty hunter using menial cleaning tasks, placed the first stone upon my soap prison island and brought security to Trierport in the form of an unfurnished, mildly scratched and also fully armed deterrent now in service to the kingdom. I have effectively banished organised piracy from these waters. I have fulfilled the conditions required to empty this guild’s vault. You may present your crowns here.”
I held up my bottomless pouch.
Then, I started tapping my foot. Any moment now.
“I apologise,” said the receptionist, her eyes not even seeing my pouch. “But I must request evidence before I’m authorised to dispense the reward associated with this commission.”
“The leader of the pirates can confirm his tale of humiliation. His name is Background Tree, but is also erroneously referred to as the Golden Prince.”
“I see. And where is he now?”
“On the ship. You may see the non-puffy bits of his face for yourself.”
The receptionist pretended to think about it.
Her hum was one I recognised anywhere. I used it myself, just before declining whatever was asked of me.
“Regrettably, I’m afraid I cannot leave my station. I’m the only staff member currently present in the hall. Do you have any trophies or spoils from either the ship or the Golden Prince you could present?”
No … I wanted to say.
Instead, I immediately turned to my loyal handmaiden.
She was already emptying her own pouch.
“Let’s see~” she said, the cheerful burglar all too happy to incriminate herself. “I have … a miniature hourglass, a sextant, a hand telescope, a tiny ship in a bottle, a palm sized nautical chart of the Emerald Sea and also a figurine of a fruit slime.”
I silently observed the bits and pieces of looted items dropping onto the receptionist’s desk. A silver whistle bounced before rolling off. The receptionist’s hand glowed with light, and it floated back to the desk.
“A fruit slime?” I queried.
“There was a dragon as well, but it was too big. Isn’t the fruit slime kind of neat, though? Look! It’s sculpted to be in the middle of a bounce!”
I peered at the figurine.
It was, well, immensely childish … yet even so, its shape was immaculately captured. The slight wrinkles in its spherical, if flattened shape was evidence of the toils of a mastercraftsman. A figurine worthy of admiration.
Not that I could reveal as much.
“Really, Coppelia. As useful as this evidence is to me right now, I’m less interested in toys as I am in why you appear to have a significant quantity of items looted from the captain’s quarters in your possession. Things the next captain will likely wish to use, I should add.”
“Eh, they’ll bring their own loot. Plus, I knew this would happen.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. I definitely wasn’t going to sell this stuff.” Coppelia paused. “... Unless you want me to sell this stuff?”
I raised an eyebrow, letting her know in no uncertain terms that the cost of the next patisserie inspection would be enjoyed by her.
And oh my, we just happened to be out of provisions.
The receptionist, meanwhile, examined the baubles on her desk. She spent particular time on the base of the hourglass and the sextant, examining its fine gloss like a gallery curator for imperfections in one of my award winning paintings.
A futile effort, of course. Many of my paintings were based on myself.
“Thank you,” said the receptionist, seemingly satisfied as she raised her head. “I can accept this as evidence of quest completion.”
I tensed, waiting for the stipulation. The counterpoint. The legal jargon.
It never came … although it really should have.
“Excuse me?”
“This is sufficient.”
“What is?” I peered down. “I see only a haphazard pile of low grade trinkets. How did you confirm the authenticity or the origin of any of these items?”
“I didn’t. None of these objects are magical in nature, nor do they contain any engravings which suggest they belong to any pirate captain.”
I nodded.
And then–
“I don’t understand.”
For a single moment, something eerily similar to a wince broke the receptionist’s professional facade. A greater victory than any I’d accomplished thus far.
“The declaration of an adventurer confirming the completion of a commission is the most important testimony. Irrefutable evidence is often unverifiable. To bring back spoils is, by and large, an expected formality. However, it does help when I sign off the documentation.”
“I see … and how, exactly, are your vaults not robbed every moment of their existence?”
“We expect all adventurers to adhere to the Guild Code. A deep element of trust is required for our organisation to function.”
“An element of trust which extends to dispensing 131,422 gold crowns?”
“Well, no,” admitted the receptionist, her shoulders slouching by a fraction of an inch. “But the presence of a pirate vessel in Trierport’s harbour without the sound of an accompanying battle suggests it’s no longer under their control. Furthermore, it arrives two nights after your public departure to remove the pirate threat. Coupled with navigational equipment accessible only to very wealthy captains, I believe this is sufficient evidence for me to provisionally err on the side of trust.”
I smiled.
Yes. She could trust me.
To financially ruin them all … oohhohohhohoohohoohohoho!
“I do what I do for the sake of the kingdom,” I said, my hand upon my chest. “As do you. And so I offer my gratitude for your stringent administrative work, if not exactly your lack of fanfare over my extraordinary achievement. Now, as soon as I have my crowns, I shall be off to continue being the only useful person in the kingdom. Once again, please empty your vault in here.”
I raised my bottomless pouch.
Once again, no clinking rush of coins filled my ears.
“I apologise, but I don’t have access to the vault. Only the guildmaster does, and he’s joined the adventurers in the harbour. I also believe a considerable amount of the promised funds still need to be collected.”
I sucked in a deep breath.
“Fine. So be it. Once your guildmaster has ceased loitering and you’ve whipped the merchant guilds to speed, please direct my reward to the Royal Estate here in Trierport.”
“The Royal Estate?”
“For use by the 1st Princess. You may consider it a … no, not a donation, that is for paupers. You may consider it a due and appropriate payment to the royal family, who rightfully deserve what is owed for their tireless defence of the realm.”
The receptionist blinked.
“Excuse me, but … are you confirming you wish to offer your entire reward to the kingdom?”
“Quite so.”
“The reward is 131,422 gold crowns.”
“A pittance. But it will do.”
At last, the professional smile fell from the receptionist’s face.
Instead, a look of stunned awe replaced it entirely.
Yes. I much preferred this one.
“I see … my apologies. I didn’t expect … well, it’s rare to see an adventurer with such heart and generosity. This is enough crowns to live a life of luxury.”
“Pfffhttt.”
I clasped my hands around my mouth.
Dangerous. Highly dangerous. She’d just said something so laughable I’d made an utterly unseemly noise.
“Um … ?”
“A muscle spasm. Pay it no mind.”
The receptionist peered uncertainly at me.
Only after several moments did she relax, a much kinder smile appearing as she held out her palm.
“If the reward isn’t a concern, then there’s only one thing left to do. If you would please provide me with your ring, I can confirm the quest completion.”
I felt the familiar tackle of exasperation as I slipped the abominable thing off.
However–
“Wait,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “I’ve seen this before.”
“Excuse me?”
“You … You’re going to promote me, are you not? Why, I can sense it!”
Indeed! There could be no mistake!
That gleam in her eyes! That mistaken belief she was offering a courtesy!
Why, she intended to haul me further up the ladder of shame … all confirmed by that look of sudden bewilderment!
“Well, I hoped it wasn’t obvious, but … yes? To commandeer the flagship of a pirate fleet is a remarkable feat, as is a D-rank adventurer completing an A+ rank quest. Additionally, a promotion is no less deserved for someone with the unprecedented achievement of completing 76 F-ranked commissions simultaneously. Many cat owners have left messages of gratitude. Would you like to see them?”
I ensured that my grimace perfectly reflected the toil in my heart.
“No, I do not. Furthermore, I have no wish to be promoted.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand? You have no wish for either payment or advancement?”
“Yes. Now if you could please confirm the commission reward will go to the Royal Estate and not the next drunkard to blunder in with tales of imagined exploits in their slurred speech, I can be on my way.”
I deposited the copper ring in the receptionist’s palm.
She responded by forgetting how to do her job.
“I don’t understand,” she repeated. “You’ve no desire to hear the gratitude of those you’ve helped, nor do you wish to receive a reward or recognition for it?”
“Correct.”
“... I see. So fame and fortune have no meaning on you … nor does the acknowledgement of those you help … truly, you’re like an adventurer of old.”
And then–
The receptionist clasped her hand and smiled.
“[Identify].”
A familiar burst of light seeped between her fingers.
Moments later, she offered the ring back to me. I accepted the thing reluctantly, eyeing it like the metalized plague it was before slipping it back on.
“Your ring has been updated,” she said smartly, her posture correcting itself. “Your reward for seeing to the threat of piracy endangering Trierport will be delivered to the Royal Estate in town, as per your request.”
“Excellent.”
“Also, congratulations–you’ve now risen to C-rank!”
Pwam.
I slammed my palms down on the desk. Immediately. Oh yes. I was ready!
“Why?!”
“My apologies, but even if you do not see the value in something as trifling as your rank, I do. It is a recognition of your worth.”
“What did I just say?! My wish was clear! No rising in rank! You … You people … You do this on purpose, don’t you?!”
“I cannot in good conscience allow your deeds to pass by quietly in the night. To rise above both coin and renown, you have the heart of a founding adventurer. I must apologise profusely. I severely mistook your character upon first sighting.”
“That … Isn’t that an insult?! What exactly did you think I was?!”
The receptionist sat up even straighter.
A satisfied, if rebellious blush of red fell across her cheeks as she committed what was likely her first act of unprofessionalism during her entire time sat behind a guild desk.
“As I said, I apologise. Yet even so, I hold no regrets. Should you wish to seek disciplinary measures against me, then I shall gratefully accept any sanction. It is a surer due than were your noble character to pass by unseen and unheard.”
My mouth widened in horror, and yet no words were able to leave.
But then again, nothing I said would have been heard.
“Ahahahahhahahaha~ … ahahahaaahhahahahah … ahahah … ahahahahah~”
Not over the sounds of a clockwork doll on her knees, desperately fighting the pain in her tummy as she filled the empty guild hall with enough echoing laughter to mimic a full common room.
Instead, I did what anyone else would do.
I raised my head and eyed a dark spot on the ceiling, arms limply by my sides as I watched my soul slowly leave me.
And that is how I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, came to rise to C-rank in the Adventurer’s Guild.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
Join my Patreon to read 20+ chapters ahead!
And don't forget to check out the Discord for fun and pictures!
