Chapter 228
Chapter 228
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 228
Chapter Title: The Promotion Exam
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Who the hell are you?”
“You wanna know who this old timer is? Heh heh heh.”
The man let out a clichéd line with a chuckle, then rose from his seat and sauntered over toward us.
He plopped his massive bulk down at our table with a thud.
“Have a drink with me. Then I’ll tell you my name.”
From the way he talked, he seemed like small fry.
I nodded vaguely, and right on cue, the server came out with the food we’d ordered.
Perfect timing.
This girl didn’t flinch a bit weaving through the rough-looking mercenaries. She had the guts for working in a place like this.
Thud!
She set the food down on the table a bit roughly and shot a glare around the room.
“Cause a scene here, and I’ll call the vigilantes.”
“Ah… Of course, we’re all gentlemen here.”
“……”
The server glanced at me briefly and nodded.
I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but it seemed like “don’t worry.”
Naturally, I wasn’t worried in the first place.
“Get us some booze.”
“Yes. How many glasses?”
“One.”
I didn’t really feel like drinking, and neither Mir nor Evan were big on alcohol, so that’s what I said.
Soon, a foaming mug of beer arrived.
I slid the mug over to the guy in front of me.
“A punk who knows how to talk, eh?”
The man took the mug with a sleazy grin and brought it to his lips…
That’s when I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the table.
Crash!
The mug shattered, and a crack split the table. I’d put some real force into it, but it didn’t break apart—tough table.
“Boss!”
“You little shit!”
“Wanna jump in? Come on if you wanna end up like this idiot.”
I smirked as I spoke, and the guys around us hesitated. Mercenaries who lived by intimidation picked up on weird vibes quick.
That aside, the Empire really was vast.
Just crossing a few cities, and no one recognized us anymore.
Back in the capital, I had to cover my face just walking the streets, but out here in Tefer, no need.
“You little—!”
I stomped my heel down on the brute’s head as he tried to get up.
I leaned back in my chair, propping myself up casually.
Somehow, I ended up with my feet on the table in a thuggish pose, but I didn’t care.
Of course, I planned to pay for the broken mug, plates, and table.
I didn’t love putting on this kind of show…
But what could I do?
Most of these southern mercenaries were simple-minded brutes—needed this straightforward display to scare ’em off.
I grabbed some meat from one of the intact plates and said as I ate,
“Calling a kid like me a B-rank Hero of Heros? You looked pretty immature.”
“……”
“But here’s the thing. Even if every last one of you washed-up old mercenaries piled on, you couldn’t touch a hair on our heads.”
“Kid, you’re overconfident.”
A low voice came from the man seated where the brute had come from. He was scrawny, but his vibe was sharp.
Gave off a snake-like aura.
‘This one’ll be a handful…’
Not for me, of course. For the current Mir or Evan, though.
Back in the day, I’d steer clear of mercenaries with that kind of presence down south.
Most of ’em killed one or two people without batting an eye.
Of course, no need for that now.
“You think I don’t deserve to claim B-rank status either?”
“Do you even know what a B-rank Hero in Heros means?”
I knew, but somehow doubted I knew better than this guy, so I tossed another piece of meat in my mouth.
As I chewed,
“The lowest is D-rank Heroes. Internally, Heros treats ’em like apprentices, but they’re two whole levels above mercenaries of the same rank. Meaning a D-rank Hero matches a B-rank mercenary in strength.”
The man continued with a blank expression.
“And you young master probably don’t know, but a B-rank mercenary—”
“Ain’t just about being strong. Gotta complete over twenty missions successfully over at least three years… Right?”
“…….”
The man glared at me.
His brows furrowed like he was hiding his thoughts, but I caught his slightly surprised open mouth.
Sorry, but I knew mercenary life inside out.
Better than Heros, even.
“…Right. So a Heros apprentice Hero matches a veteran mercenary in pure strength. C-ranks match A-ranks, and B-ranks go toe-to-toe with S-ranks.”
Not exact metrics, but that’s the general perception among mercenaries.
And it wasn’t baseless.
Mercenaries took any job for the right pay, and they teamed up with Heros often enough.
Naturally, being mercenaries, they’d pick fights on joint missions to crush the other side’s spirit…
I’d seen it plenty.
Arrogant A-rank mercenaries—the idols who strutted anywhere in the south…
Getting utterly crushed by some mere C-rank from Heros.
“B-rank Heroes and up can take branch chief positions across Heros based on achievements. They’re the real core forces, so even among B-ranks, skill gaps are huge. Plenty spend decades stuck at B-rank.”
“…….”
“So it ain’t a rank some green kid like you tosses around lightly. Got it?”
This guy was unusual in a few ways.
A mercenary who seemed to admire Heroes… Not young, didn’t look noble-born.
Rare case.
Mercenaries had no respect for Heros. Called ’em idiots.
If they were that strong, they’d have ditched hero work for mercenary gigs long ago.
Heros paid decent, but top mercenaries raked in more.
“What’s your name?”
“…Rokan.”
“Rokan? Chain Scythe Rokan?”
“You know me?”
He seemed genuinely shocked this time.
Instead of nodding, I just stared at him blankly.
Famous mercenary in my past life. Skilled, sure, but his track record was unique.
A mercenary who joined Heros and climbed all the way to A-rank.
I lifted my foot off the brute I’d pinned.
“Argh! You bastard! You’re dead meat today—!”
“Enough.”
“Huh? B-but…”
“I said enough.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
The brute shut his mouth and slunk back.
Rokan looked at me.
“Noble who knows me, knows mercenary life inside out. Interesting.”
“You were interesting too. If we meet in the exam, go easy.”
“You won’t run into me.”
Rokan kept the gravitas to the end and stood.
“Hm?”
Wasn’t this guy taking the exam?
I was puzzled, but couldn’t follow him.
“Um, sir~?”
The server was glaring at me with a vein-popping smile.
I immediately pulled out cash and covered the damages.
* * *
After eating, we headed straight to reception.
First, I registered Mir and Evan for The Origin…
Then I showed my Hero badge to the receptionist and asked.
“Oh? That’s…”
“From my family.”
“I see! Mind if I ask which family?”
“Bednicker.”
“Ah.”
The receptionist smiled brightly.
“Welcome, young Hero of the Bednickers. Ruan Hero, right? Your exploits in the capital were impressive.”
Must be Heros staff—they heard rumors fast.
“I want to join The Origin too. That okay?”
“Ah, that might be tough. Rules changed this year.”
“Eh… So I can’t participate?”
“Not The Origin.”
What?
“You’re taking the exam for promotion, right, Ruan Hero?”
“Yeah?”
Needed B-rank to enter Utgard Detention Camp, after all.
“Then please join the Promotion Battles.”
“Promotion Battles?”
“Yes. But steel yourself—they’re notoriously brutal at HQ. You could get seriously hurt, or worst case, die.”
“Oho…”
Imperial Academy.
Hearing talk of death in this guaranteed-safe place really drove home facing the world’s harshness head-on.
The receptionist’s casual tone reminded me of Bednicker training sessions.
“I’ll sign up.”
Then I asked,
“Depending on scores, can I jump straight to B-rank?”
“No.”
“Hm?”
She said,
“Scores can get you up to A-rank max.”
More radical than I thought.
Sure, talk is cheap—how many ever jumped from D to A historically?
“You in?”
“Yeah.”
“Perfect timing.”
The receptionist beamed.
“Promotion Battles start tomorrow.”
“……!”
“More precisely, midnight.”
No breather.
* * *
Back to the inn for minimal prep, then straight to Heros HQ where the exam was.
Before leaving, I told Mir and Evan, who’d be apart for a bit,
“They say Promotion Battles can last weeks. The Origin’s about a week, so we might miss each other. First one done waits at the inn for a bit.”
“Sounds good.”
We’d booked the inn by the month, so even if they finished first, fine.
Mir clenched his fist.
“Promote for sure, Ruan…!”
“You got this. Be careful.”
“You too.”
Out of the inn, to Heros HQ.
The HQ was massive, like the Academy main building—Colosseum vibes.
At least ten stories, tall and wide.
It’d loomed imposingly since we first hit Tefer.
‘So this is Heros HQ, the Heroes’ institution.’
Different pressure from the palace.
Near midnight, yet firelight leaked from windows.
No day or night for those working there.
“Ruan Bednicker. That you?”
A man at the entrance called me.
Examiner?
Serious powerhouse. Even I couldn’t guarantee victory.
At least A-rank Hero.
I nodded, and he said,
“Last one. Follow.”
What trials awaited? I followed, curiosity and anticipation bubbling.
After entering HQ and walking polished halls, we reached…
A dingy room.
“……”
But the vibe inside was off.
Nine people inside, ten with me.
One familiar face.
“You…?”
Chain Scythe Rokan.
‘Ah, he’s already a Hero.’
That’s why he bristled at Heroes being dissed, and why no Origin clash.
I gave a casual nod in greeting, then scanned the examinees.
Five men, three women.
Personalities oozed from every one.
Merc, knight, noble, merchant… even a mage.
I knew Heros Heroes varied, so no shock.
Except the mage.
Pointy hat pulled low; glimpsed face under it surprised me.
Girl my age.
“Sit.”
The guide examiner barked curtly; I took an empty seat.
Next to Rokan, coincidentally.
“…….”
He looked like he had words, but shut up for the examiner.
“First test starts. Two rules: Don’t leave this room. Complete the instructions on the paper. One hour limit. Good luck.”
The examiner left after that.
I glanced down.
Table had a paper, yeah.
Opened it.
[A cultist hides somewhere in this room.]
[Find them.]
“Oof…”
A groan escaped me.
Had I gotten screwed?