Taking the Silver Exam Together

When Tirsi asked me to take the exam with her, I was genuinely thrown off. Not because this former noble lady was asking me for a favor—that part was surprising enough on its own—but because of the practical logistics involved.

“Even if we both sign up, doesn’t the guild randomly assign the parties?”

That was the real reason I was flustered. If my memory served me right, the Silver Class promotion test involved the guild forming the parties themselves. The odds of Tirsi and me ending up on the same team, even if we tested in the same season, seemed pretty low.

But Tirsi shook her head.

“There’s a loophole. Once you register, you can’t cancel, and because of the scheduling, parties are formed sequentially from the start. So if we both register right before the deadline, we should end up together.”

“Ah, so they don’t assign parties after the registration window closes.”

That changed things. It was worth a shot. If we both submitted at the one-minute mark before closing, we might get slotted into the same underfilled party. Of course, if our luck was absolute garbage, we could still get dumped into completely different groups.

“What if we end up as a two-person party because there aren’t enough people, or we get split into separate three- or four-person teams?”

“If the numbers are low, the required number of orcs we have to hunt drops accordingly, so that’s fine. Worst case, you can always forfeit after registration. If we get put in different parties, we’ll just have to work something out between groups when the time comes.”

“Wait, collaboration between parties is allowed?”

“The Audumla branch in Sargadis is pretty lax about promotion exams. That’s actually one of the reasons I joined them in the first place…”

“I see. If you’re aiming higher than Silver, that makes sense as a strategy.”

If the Sargadis branch didn’t work out, she could always move to another city. Besides, Tirsi’s real profession was alchemy. If she was just looking to build up her credentials, she didn’t need to get overly attached to any one guild. It was like someone gunning for a big corporation job spending a short stint at a mid-sized company first.

Come to think of it, my own mindset isn’t that different.

I hadn’t joined Audumla out of some deep sense of loyalty either. I was there to earn money while building combat experience and achievements. People really weren’t so different after all.

Whether this test is actually sloppy or not remains to be seen.

As I’d mentioned during the hobgoblin subjugation, conquest requests required proof—usually something like an ear from the target. In this case, it was an orc’s nose. One per orc.

If collaboration is allowed, I’ll have to watch out for backstabbing.

To pass, each adventurer needed to bring back two orc noses. If two four-person parties teamed up and took down eight orcs together, then one group suddenly decided to screw the other over and ran off with all eight noses… that would be a total disaster.

That’s probably why they don’t ban collaboration. It’s pretty common for parties to work together in towers and such.

If they only wanted to test pure combat ability, they wouldn’t have sent all the examinees to the same area. The unspoken rules seemed to be:

Something like that. For adventurers fighting in remote locations, cooperation and betrayal were two sides of the same coin. You couldn’t separate them.

If it were me, I’d secretly assign max-level Sneak observers to watch and investigate anyone who pulled that shit.

It was an efficient way to test both ability and character in one go. Though maybe I was overthinking it.

“But Tirsi, you know that once we both become Silver Class, it’ll be harder to form parties together, right?”

“Miss Larilura will reach Bronze Class very quickly. And Miss Franc fought alongside us on the same requests, so it shouldn’t take her long to reach Silver either. Until you all meet the promotion requirements, I’ll help however I can—even if it means going alone.”

Tirsi seemed quite desperate for this promotion. I took a sip of tea, giving her a moment to ease the tension while I gathered my thoughts.

“Tirsi, this is a bit difficult to ask, but… because of that Earth—damn, I forgot his name. Anyway, because of that mentor of yours, was your promotion in the Mage Guild delayed?”

“Yes. Earthrate never submitted my thesis to the higher-ups.”

“I see. Then you probably don’t want any more delays in your adventurer career either. I understand that feeling completely.”

It was like having your boss troll you at work and block your promotion, then stumbling in another certification exam on top of it. The frustration would drive anyone insane. And if your relatives started comparing it to failing to get promoted or postponing a qualification test during family gatherings… yeah, that would push anyone over the edge.

I didn’t know all the details of Tirsi’s situation, but I’d experienced that same dread of going home after tanking my TOEIC score and GPA. The empathy came naturally.

My voice softened without me even realizing it.

“In that sense, joining our party was a good decision. Ah, I’m not trying to make it sound like anything. Building relationships is a skill too. We’re grateful to have a professional mage like you with us.”

“…No. I feel ashamed for being so calculating.”

Tirsi shrank back as if she truly had nothing to say for herself. Ah, fuck. I messed up. I’d gotten too comfortable with everyone around me lately and forgot to choose my words carefully. This was basically the same as a part-time job boss saying, “Heh, it’s nice that you can study for certifications while working here,” completely missing the point. Anyone with half a brain would feel suffocated.

In the awkward atmosphere, my overeducated brain scrambled for another topic, rifling through memories.

“Um, but if you fail the exam, don’t you have to wait a year before trying again? Isn’t it risky to rush into it?”

“Hmm…? Ah, that rule only applies to the Bronze Class promotion test. It was added because too many underqualified Iron Class adventurers kept failing their requests.”

“Ah, I see. That makes sense.”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

This topic was a dud. The image of arrogant Bronze wannabes latching onto requests and screwing everything up like trolls was hilarious in my head, but this wasn’t the time to laugh about it.

Tirsi gave a bitter smile.

“Monsters active in winter have cold resistance. Since ice magic is my specialty, I wouldn’t be very helpful in a winter exam. And in spring… you’ll be in Romania for the auction, Nord.”

Fuck. The more I hear, the more tragic her situation sounds.

Even after forming a party, if we missed this autumn window, I’d be completely useless to her for at least another six months. She’d either have to wait or take the test alone.

My inner undead Confucian dragon roared. In a Confucian nation, returning a favor received was basic duty.

Tirsi had bustled around trying to save us when I was fighting that cockroach monster in the Dark Digital World. There was no way I could say, “Ah, that might be difficult~” now. Anyone who could reject this by claiming it wasn’t their problem would be the same bastard who’d dump his parents’ ashes on a mountain right after the funeral.

With my conscience stinging, I decided I needed to discuss this with the other party members. But then Tirsi suddenly shook her head.

“…Hehe. Hearing myself say all this, I sound like I’m just appealing to your kindness. Please forget I said anything.”

“What?”

Why was she suddenly trying to take it back? Had she seen me lost in thought about her pitiful circumstances and started overthinking?

I panicked and waved my hands.

“Why would you say that? This is exactly the kind of thing party members should discuss. I’ll talk to Franc and Larilura about it.”

“No, it’s fine. Didn’t I tell you? I’m a calculating woman. I feel uncomfortable exchanging things as precious as genuine kindness.”

Good lord. Maybe it was because she was so well-educated. Every sentence made me want to smack my forehead. She was right, though. The closer the relationship, the cleaner the exchange should be. People who couldn’t manage that ended up emotionally exhausted every time they met.

But if we end it here, Tirsi’s the only one who loses out.

I felt the need to relieve her of this baseless guilt. Little things like this could pile up and eventually break a party apart. Like a guild master who solo-carried his guild’s ranking for ages, only to hit burnout and quit.

“Tirsi. It’s okay to be a little calculating.”

“Pardon?”

“If you help others, people call you a pushover. If you act selfish, they say you only care ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about yourself. The best approach is moderation in all things. You’re someone who can do that.”

You know how, when you browse the internet, every smoker claims they strictly follow no-smoking zones and never litter their butts? In reality, ninety percent of them are probably the ones smoking on the street and blowing smoke into the upstairs bathroom. But that doesn’t mean people who smoke selfishly deserve to get beaten to death. Just a fine and a scolding will do. Who in this world has never done anything wrong?

Hell, when I was a kid I was the terrifying phantom thief BuKo=Kang who stole Zetis from my classmates.

I tapped my temple with a finger.

“I’ve heard this saying before: ‘Conscience is intelligence.’ If you haven’t learned what’s shameful, you can’t feel shame. Because you’re smart, Tirsi, you can view yourself objectively. That’s why even small selfish thoughts feel like terrible crimes to you.”

“Small… selfishness?”

“Wanting help from your party members is just a small selfish desire. What else would it be? When ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that kind of compulsion gets worse and turns into a complex about always having to be the good person, that’s what we call ‘good kid syndrome.’”

Behold, 21st-century Earth psychological analysis.

A truly excellent counselor could just listen, but since Tirsi probably didn’t want to talk about herself, this was the best I could do. I wasn’t a professional anyway.

“If relying on party members makes you calculating, then what about me? When I was captured by bug monsters and taken to another dimension, I desperately hoped you would help us. Does that make me calculating too?”

“Ah, n-no! That’s not… the same thing…”

Her face clearly said, B-but are those really the same? as she grew more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠confused. Her sky-blue eyes, illuminated by the candlelight, trembled. If anyone saw us, they’d probably think I was some evil hypnotist seducing an innocent woman.

Some racist nonsense about Easterners being good at evil sorcery. Not that I was invoking the Ten Commandments of Knox or anything. …Though fuck, if those guard bastards who operated on guilty-until-proven-innocent and excessive suppression were here, I’d probably be slammed face-first onto the table already.

“Right? So it’s fine for you to be a little selfish with me, Tirsi. And please put those worries away. As you saw when the bandits stole our thesis, I’m the type who can’t rest until I return the favor.”

I took a cookie from the jar and continued.

“If I feel like I’ve been taken advantage of, I’ll make sure to take back exactly what I’m owed. So Tirsi, feel free to be as calculating as you want.”

Hey! Tirsi! We’re not strangers!

When I held out the cookie with that thought, Tirsi accepted it with a dazed expression.

“…You really are dependable in so many ways.”

She stared at the store-bought cookie for a moment, then shook her head and spoke.

“I understand. I’ll be counting on you, Nord.”

The smile on Tirsi’s face as she said that, now free of guilt, was radiant. Fuck, what a relief. My conscience wouldn’t be bothering me anymore.

“Anytime. Honestly, I was running low on funds, so a bigger reward is good for me too.”

I shrugged. I really hoped there wouldn’t be another massive incident like last time where gold coins just fell into my hands.

After we cleaned up the teapot, I saw her out. It was pitch black outside. Our conversation had gone on longer than expected.

“Let’s end the discussion here. Tirsi? It’s late—why don’t you stay the night? We’ve prepared a bed in the spare room for guests.”

“Huh? But earlier you told Miss Larilura there were no spare rooms…”

“I lied a bit on purpose to say that. That capybara-like person aside, I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep comfortably sharing a room with our family.”

At my words, Tirsi froze like a turtle that had just seen a rock drop ten centimeters in front of it. She couldn’t speak.

“…Pfft. Puhuhuhu! Ahahahahaha!!”

She suddenly burst into laughter after freezing up. I wasn’t sure if she understood what “capybara” meant, but she seemed to really like my little white lie.

“Really, Nord, you always manage to surprise me in ways I could never imagine.”

Tirsi wiped the tears from her eyes—she’d laughed so hard she was crying—and said, “I’ll accept your kindness and stay one night. Oh, shall I help clean the dishes?”

“Larilura is fast asleep like it’s nobody’s business. If I made you work while she rests, I’d feel bad. I’ll clean up myself.”

Since Dana hadn’t come down either, she must have put Franc to bed and gone to her own room. I pointed at the stairs.

“It’s the first room on the left after going up. Ah, the bed was one left in the master bedroom when we bought the house. I changed the sheets, but if you feel uncomfortable, you can clean it with magic.”

“Thank you. I’ll use it cleanly.”

Tirsi bowed deeply and went up to the second floor. I cleaned up the tea set she’d brought and headed to the master bedroom I used. The bed was ridiculously large—big enough for three people to roll around in. I was thinking I could swim in it alone tonight when—

─Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on my door. Assuming Tirsi had come back because she had a question, I straightened my collar and opened the door. My eyes widened to the size of fists.

“…Ahem.”

The one clearing her throat the moment our eyes met was the purple-haired mess of a genius, Doctor Messy. Dana stood there hugging a pillow.

She fidgeted with her lips.

“Well, it felt a bit wrong to let my pathetic husband sleep alone, so here I am. Got a problem with that? If you do, say it quick.”

─Shuffle, shuffle.

Wearing slippers, she rubbed her feet against the floor while watching my reaction. When I stayed stunned and silent, she must have gotten embarrassed because she hurriedly added,

“Ah. I got permission from Franc first? She said I don’t have to ask every single time. I mean, it’s just… yeah.”

I was still too stunned to do anything but open and close my mouth. Unable to handle my reaction, Dana shoved me with the pillow in irritation.

“Ugh…! You fucking idiot! Say whether I should leave or come in! I swallowed my pride to come here, you know!”

“Heh heh. What’s so embarrassing about a married couple sleeping in the same bed? Come on, get in already.”

When I gentlemanly wrapped an arm around Dana’s waist, she leaned her head against my chest. Then she grumbled in a small voice.

“…W-we’re not doing it, okay?”

“What a damn shame.”

This house had pretty good soundproofing, though.