Chapter 49
Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Special Grade Adventure Club (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
[A club that provides additional training to accumulate practical experience through active external activities, ultimately fostering talents who can contribute to the Empire.]
That was written under Kratir's signature in the 'Reason for Club Creation.' Baren tilted his head.
"Special Grade Adventure Club...?"
"You're not going to pretend you don't know now, are you, Baren? I asked you as payment for saving that blue furball. To be the advisor."
"No, I remember that... but why is there so little information filled in?"
Normally, the document should have had far more details. Phileon's club approval process was notoriously strict.
Since the academy covered all activity expenses, clubs had to detail their purpose and value as thoroughly as possible to gain official recognition.
Yet the application Ronan brought had everything blank except the club name, reason for creation, and advisor professor's name. Ronan pointed to the top of the paper with his index finger.
"Eh, don't sweat the small stuff. The principal signed it, didn't he?"
"That's true, but..."
The contradictory fact was, as Ronan said, that it bore the signature of the final approver, Kratir. Baren rubbed his eyes a couple times and examined the signature. Surprisingly, it wasn't forged.
"Hmm, alright. It's essentially already approved, so no point in me complaining. But what exactly does this club do?"
"We're planning to try all sorts of things, so it's hard to pin down. But I'll do my best to make sure you don't get arrested, Professor."
"Pardon? Arrested?"
Baren's eyes widened. Seeing his mane slowly rising, Ronan waved it off.
"Haha, just kidding. Why would you get arrested, Baren?"
"...Students' jokes these days are hard to understand. I guess I am getting old."
"Oh, got a question. Do you know about a monster called Curse Eye?"
"Curse Eye? The flesh that devours curses?"
Ronan nodded. As expected, Baren knew about Curse Eyes. Karaka's claim that they were rarer than most fantasy species seemed true; he looked shocked that Ronan even knew of their existence.
"Did you read a monster manual recently? It's not a well-known one."
"Something like that. So, Baren, do you know where they live? If not exactly, at least the characteristics of their habitat?"
Ronan asked again. Baren rummaged through various books, explaining what he knew. Ronan nodded.
"Thanks. Our first outing has to be there."
"Hm? There?"
"You'll find out soon, Baren. See you."
Ronan turned away with an ominous smile. Thud. The office door closed.
Baren stood still for a long while before picking up his teacup. A drop of spilled black tea fell onto Marfez's head.
-Peeek?!
"Ah, sorry, Marfez. Why am I like this..."
His hand trembled faintly, though he wasn't cold. Something felt off.
"Hm? What's that?" "Whoa... look at the font size. Even a mole could read it." That morning, a massive poster went up on the bulletin board in Phileon's grand plaza. The letters were as huge as the paper, catching the eye of every student passing by.
That was all it said on the poster. No further details even up close. Students buzzed.
"Ronan—that's the guy who beat the Empire's Rising Star in practicals, right?"
"Heard he's a total maniac with no respect for hierarchy... They say Cardan dropped out because of him."
"Heard he's linked to those prisoners escorted to Rodolan yesterday."
"Hiiing... I wrote him a letter a few weeks ago, but no reply. Guess he has someone already..."
Good or bad, Ronan was the hottest topic among students right now. His outrageous antics since orientation always fueled Phileon's gossip mill.
"But what's a Special Grade Adventure Club? Should explain at least."
"Like a travel club? Sounds fun..."
Naturally, Ronan's recruitment notice drew explosive interest. Half-curious, half-expecting, students headed to the interview spot.
Arena 1, where Naviroje's classes were held, was already swarming. Ronan had set up a chair and desk in one corner for interviews.
"Alright, please demonstrate your skills."
"Yes. Fire Arrow!"
A Magic Department boy chanted. Five fire arrows flew at a prepped mana dummy.
Boom! They hit, causing a small explosion. Ronan stroked his chin and nodded.
"Fire mages are definitely handy... Question: Could you fire that at a person or monster?"
"Yes, huh?"
"Assume it's a criminal who deserves death. And can you wander a swamp for five days without washing? Might have to wipe with leaves."
The boy's eyes wavered at the bizarre questions. After exactly ten seconds, Ronan clicked his tongue regretfully. He bid the boy farewell and called the next.
"Whew... be careful going in. Next!"
Ronan's interviews were simple. He'd check skills briefly, ask a few about killing and grit. But shaky eyes or hesitant answers meant instant rejection. Interviews continued.
"Good... Joining means doing whatever I say, okay?"
"I could. But why follow you? Rumor says you're a dunce who can't even sense mana properly."
Some students clearly disliked Ronan, especially upperclassmen he didn't know. He gave them all the same response.
"Duel. Come on."
"W-what? Duel?!"
"Yeah. Want witnesses and make it a Sacred Duel?"
That was why he chose Arena 1. This time's challenger: third-year Martial Arts Sander.
Ronan stood without waiting. He walked to the center and took position.
"I'm busy enough, you fuck... Hurry up."
"You think you'll get away with this to a senior?!"
"I get along great with real seniors, so don't worry."
No politeness left in his tone. Ronan actually had great relations with most seniors he knew.
Unless they crossed lines like Cardan or Sander, he was the most reliable, clever underclassman. Swirling Ramancha, he said,
"Come out before you get uglier."
"Shit...!"
Sander paled. He'd planned to bluff and leave, but now eyes were on him—no backing out. Hands in pockets, he yelled,
"Think I'll chicken out?!"
Dragging shaky legs, Sander stood before Ronan. Pop! As the duel started, Ronan lunged, slashing at Sander's body.
Countless strikes flew without mercy; Sander squeezed his eyes shut.
"Hiiiik!"
Hardly a duel. Unlike skilled Cardan, Sander couldn't even resist.
Dozens of fine lines appeared where Ramancha passed; Sander's uniform and underwear exploded off.
"Kyaaack!"
"Someone cover my eyes!"
Waiting students screamed. Naked Sander collapsed. Tattered uniform fluttered like cherry blossoms heralding spring. Ronan frowned at the scrawny body.
"Disgusting."
No one brought a blanket. Ptoo. Ronan spat on Sander's head and returned. No more idiots here now.
Waiters paled. Ronan continued regardless.
"A bit delayed. Next?"
"Hic."
A freshman hiccuped. Interviews from noon ran late into night.
Exactly 512 applicants; three idiots joined Sander with eternal trauma. Only one passed day one.
"Uuuugh..."
The girl rose from bed after sunset. Outside Netia Hall, mid-tier dorm, Phileon slumbered in darkness. Stretching, she mumbled drowsily, "Night finally..."
She hated days lengthening. Opening the window, arms wide, cool night breeze hit her face, eyelids rising.
"Refreshing..."
Fully awake, she leaped out the fifth-floor window—landing silently. As always, night stroll began. Favorite route: endless laps of empty grand plaza. Circling as usual, a huge poster on the board caught her eye.
"Special... Adventure Club?"
She tilted her head. Indifferent to most things, this rude poster piqued her interest. Curious, she headed there.
Doubtless interviews ended, but entering Gallerion Hall—
"Damn, he's insane. 'Can you kill in that situation?' What does that even mean?"
"But he is super hot... I was satisfied. Our team was last, right?"
"Yeah. What was that animal on his shoulder? Never seen it in Baren's class."
Piercing murmurs made her frown. Students still streamed from arena corridor. What? Against the flow, she headed in.
"Thanks for the help, Adeshan."
"No prob. You had it rough."
Empty arena: two black-haired teens chatting. Girl taller. Boy moving desk spotted her.
"Hm? Here for interview?"
"...!"
She froze. Not just stranger speaking.
Her gaze fixed on the unknown creature preening on his shoulder. Fluffy, its eyes crimson like hers. Sita tilted head.
"Ppya?"
"...Later."
Staring long at Sita, she turned. Glided out like flowing moonlight. Ronan frowned.
"...What? Know her?"
"Nah... first time for me. What year?"
Shrugging, they cleaned. Club-focused Ronan missed her silent steps.
Phileon's vast grounds and buildings meant ample minor spaces for students. With solid funds, the academy lived up to 'City of Hundred Towers' with top welfare—like club support. Most clubs clustered in 'Nest' district. Personality-packed buildings lined the circular street. Asel gaped learning each was a club house.
"D-do other academies do this?"
"Hell no. Usually just a dingy room."
Day after recruitment start: Ronan, Asel, Marya walked Nest seeking their building. Rumor: old 'Dungeon Exploration Club' spot; vanished after explorers disappeared. Ronan grumbled, "Fuck, no talent. How only one decent?"
Schlieffen not back from Grancia. Targeted Erzsebet scoffed no. No reason to mix with sheep sans Lord Ronan. 'Gonna snag those two somehow... rest problem.' Ronan sighed. Would've taken any with potential, but questions filtered them. Asel fiddling Doron's bracelet spoke, "Just started yesterday; more'll come. B-but Ronan, sudden club...? Heard nothing..."
"Yeah, what're we doing from morning? What even is it?"
"I'll explain inside. You're founders anyway—can't drop."
Asel and Marya stiffened. Ronan told them only that morning. Soon, before a two-story wooden building. Wilted flowers for missing at door. Asel paled.
"Hiiik...!"
"Tch, bad luck."
Kicking flowers, Ronan opened door. Adventurer guild vibe inside. Dusty bar table, stacked oak barrels. Wall-spanning corkboard: continent map, dense dungeon requests. Ronan whistled.
"Pretty decent."
"Y-yeah..."
"Just need the last one."
Neglected but fixable. Inspecting nooks—door burst open; hulking second-year strode in.
"Haha! This the club house? Not bad!"
"Welcome, Senior Braum."
"Oho! You guys first. Nice!"
Martial Arts second-year runner-up, sole passer: Braum Bioran waved. Asel, Marya blankly greeted. Looking around, Braum yelled at Ronan, "So what do we do?! Joined 'cause it'll be fun anyway!"
"Right. Time to explain. Gather here?"
Ronan led to huge map. About to start, eyed Braum.
"Forgot: club rule—banmal only. Cool?"
"First time hearing! No prob!"
"Love the energy, Braum. Why I picked you."
Honorifics'd complicate training. Locking eyes one by one, "Good... We're literally Special Grade Adventure Club. Regular life-risking adventures for combat exp, get strong for that day coming."
"That day?"
"Exists. Look here."
Ronan pointed with Ramancha sheath—chain of mountain sketches. Northwest Empire: Baidyan Mountains.
"First destination—memorize."
"Baidyan Mountains? What's there?"
Ronan nodded. Leyline spot from past wanderings—claimed then, likely uncharted now. -Curse Eye habitat... untouched by men, mana-rich. Curses just mana form. Recalling Baren chat, Ronan smirked. 'Gotta try everything possible.'