CHAPTER 22

They say there's a certain romance to the life of an adventurer, but that's honestly the biggest load of nonsense. It's just an extreme job where you risk your life to make money.

The original intent wasn't bad.

Though adventurers had existed implicitly since the early days of the Teresia calendar, the profession officially emerged 300 years ago, during the era of Rista's exploits.

"They were originally like hidden masters who assisted hero parties... or something like that."

In modern times, they've become mercenaries specializing in dealing with monsters—handling tasks where mobilizing official military forces is tricky or where elite small groups are required.

The Alliance (Adventurers' Guild) was established as the power of adventurers grew. Now, it's common for most cities to have a guild branch.

Over the past 300 years, the Adventurers' Guild has devised its own level and status system to quantify what was once a subjective measure of combat ability.

By categorizing adventurers based on their combat skills and achievements, they've transformed the profession into one recognized for its combat expertise.

"In the old days, they were just a bunch of roughnecks hanging around in taverns."

Delaiten Adventurers' Guild.

Looking up at the solidly built three-story stone structure, I felt a wave of nostalgia.

Inside, a spacious lobby stretched before me. The inner part had rows of reception desks, resembling a government office, while the outer section was set up like a tavern.

From the morning hours, countless adventurers were sitting around in groups, noisily chatting away.

"So, how's the money here these days? There aren't any dungeons nearby."

"What do you mean? Ever since the Crimson Dragon Legion left, the Red Ridge has been a goldmine overflowing with monsters."

"There's been a rat-spider outbreak lately. It's a bit dangerous, but the bounty is insane."

Rat-spiders, huh? Noted.

In this field, information was as good as gold.

"Are there only basic hunting quests available?"

"If you really want to make a fortune, head to Trident Point—if you think you can survive, that is."

As I eavesdropped on their conversation, the queue shortened, and it was finally my turn.

"What brings you here?"

The receptionist, clad in the guild's uniform, was a woman with a gaunt face, likely worn down by the heavy workload.

"I'd like to register as an adventurer."

"Judging by your uniform, you're a Delaiten student. Do you have a student ID or any form of identification?"

"I do."

"Please place it here."

"How long will it take?"

"Since Delaiten students have verified identities, your adventurer badge should be issued quickly—less than ten minutes."

Having handled many Delaiten students before, the receptionist processed everything smoothly—until she read the name on the student ID and hesitated.

'Rein Ludwig.'

Ludwig? That's a noble family of great influence. She had assumed he was just an ordinary mage because of his polite speech, but why would the heir of a high-ranking noble house register as an adventurer...?

"What's next?"

"Oh, my apologies. Since you can write, please fill this out."

She handed me a parchment titled [Adventurer Registration – Mage], which required additional personal details.

Current magic rank (with certification attached), primary spells, the number of times I could cast spells per day (mana capacity), and so on.

"Well, well."

It was surprising how much those rough-and-tumble adventurers had developed. As the saying goes, live long enough and you'll see everything.

"You don't have a rank certification… Your primary spell is Tier 3… Your casting capacity is… Hmm…"

The receptionist frowned as she checked the parchment I had filled out in an instant.

Was he joking?

No, she couldn't ask that outright.

There were plenty of eccentric nobles, and if she offended him, he might cause trouble.

"This is the last step. Could you check this box?"

"What is it?"

"It's a special clause for nobles—if you encounter any danger while working as an adventurer, the guild assumes no responsibility."

"So, that means there were nobles who tried to make the guild take responsibility?"

"A hundred years ago, there were many. That's why this clause was introduced."

The rest of the process was swift. The receptionist placed an iron badge into a magical engraving device, and with a burst of light, Rein's identity was neatly inscribed onto the nameplate.

"The adventurer ranks are as follows: Iron (철), Brass (황동), Silver (은), Gold (금), Platinum (백금), and Diamond (금강)."

Iron was for rookies, Brass for skilled adventurers, and Silver was the threshold for professionals.

Gold-ranked adventurers were essential for mid-to-high-level monster subjugations, while Platinum-ranked ones were among the top eleven warriors in the world.

As for Diamond rank, only one adventurer per era could hold the title—it was the mark of the greatest adventurer of the time.

"Does everyone start at Iron rank?"

"No. Some receive Brass rank based on prior combat experience. For mages, we consider their rank certification."

"Ah."

"But as you know, you haven't taken a rank certification exam."

"Fair enough."

I had no intention of becoming a high-ranked adventurer anyway. My only reason for registering was to take on requests legally.

As an adventurer, I could claim monster subjugation rewards, sell monster parts for alchemical and crafting purposes through the guild, and gain access to restricted areas.

'Let's see… I have forty-four silver coins on hand…'

Target: Rat-spiders.

According to the request board, the bounty was two silver per kill. Selling their hides, fangs, and bones would bring in extra earnings.

'Delaiten to the Red Ridge takes half a day…'

Renting a decent horse from the guild stable cost three silver per day. I'd also need food for two days.

If I aimed to kill 150 within 24 hours, I could make a solid profit.

'And I need to return to the Delaiten dorm before curfew.'

Sigh…

Life was full of exhausting tasks. Weekends were best spent locked in my room, studying mathematics.

"Well, no time to sigh—let's get moving."

Scratching the back of my head, I went to find the stable master.

At first, he smirked at me like I was an easy target, but as soon as he saw my Ludwig family name on my adventurer badge, his demeanor flipped instantly.

"Oh! Young Master Ludwig! You should have said so earlier! Hahaha! Please, come this way—I'll show you our finest horses!"

"Didn't you just say you don't rent to Iron-rank adventurers?"

"N-Not at all! Rank doesn't matter for someone of your esteemed status! Please, right this way, Young Master Rein."

I hadn't proved my skills or changed my badge, yet his attitude shifted completely.

The influence of a great noble house was truly overwhelming.

"Would you like this fine steed? Look at its mane—simply magnificent!"

This was a glimpse of social hierarchy.

It felt both convenient and unpleasant.

'I should probably have my last name removed from my adventurer badge.'

Being recognized had its perks, but as a noble heir, I'd also become a target during my travels.

'And I don't particularly enjoy people bowing and scraping just because I'm a noble.'

The receptionist removed the surname from my badge without any hassle—after all, my identity was already verified.