Chapter 241
Chapter 241
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 241
Chapter Title: The Third Promotion Battle
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After hearing the full story, one question popped into my mind, so I looked at Nero with puzzlement and asked her directly.
“But...”
“What?”
“Why did you warn me like that?”
“......”
As if Hiiro and I had no grudge or connection whatsoever.
My relationship with Nero was pretty dry too.
In any case, this woman was another child who had strongly inherited the Iron-Blooded Duke's bloodline, meaning she was the type to be indifferent about everything.
“...That's—”
It was the moment Nero's mouth half-opened.
“Brother! I'm back!”
Verita had returned.
Not even ten minutes had passed?
I stared at him in disbelief, but oblivious to my mood, he grinned ear to ear and showed me the box in his hands.
“Sorry! The cookies were all sold out, so I had no choice but to get carrot cake. But this looks really tasty!”
“......”
Why carrot of all things?
There were apple cakes, strawberry cakes, grape cakes, and more.
While I silently glared at the box, Nero quietly slipped away without a word.
“Hm? Are you done talking?”
“No.”
“Huh?”
Ignoring Verita's confused reply, I watched Nero's retreating back.
What the hell?
“Oh, by the way, Brother, have you decided on a clan to join?”
“A clan? Oh, I've gotten some love calls, at least.”
“From where?”
“Beowulf. The supervisor guy sounded me out a bit.”
“Oh ho. That's pretty unusual.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They don't usually make recruitment offers mid-promotion battle unless it's someone they really covet.”
Verita said with a beaming smile.
“Must mean they were really impressed by your skills, huh? Figures the examiners would have a good eye.”
“But do I have to join a clan?”
“Not necessarily, but there are plenty of perks.”
“What about you? Are you in one?”
“Nope.”
“......”
I shot Verita a glance.
He gave an awkward smile.
“A lot of people kindly offered, but unfortunately, I've been too busy.”
“I see. Anyway, what's so great about clans?”
If it would help me achieve my goals, joining one probably wouldn't be a bad final choice.
“For starters, it makes taking and selecting missions way easier! No need to hunt for ones that match your level—they assign suitable jobs from the clan. Of course, they take a cut of the fee.”
“And?”
“You can get help from senior heroes. For example, if you're C-grade or below, a veteran from the clan might tag along on riskier missions.”
“......”
Neither sounded all that appealing.
Verita went on to explain other benefits.
Things like learning from top clan members or borrowing high-end gear from the clan stores.
Of course, even after hearing it all, I wasn't particularly interested.
“Oh, and each clan has its own assigned territory.”
“Territory?”
“Yeah. You'll have to decide on yours too once the promotion battle ends, Brother. Whether you'll operate independently without a base, or register with a specific branch.”
“Assigned territory...”
I thought for a moment.
The place I was heading to soon was the northern Utgard Detention Camp.
So maybe...
Was there a Heros branch near Utgard?
* * *
Heros headquarters featured a massive indoor training hall.
Known as the Gymnasium, this facility could hold up to five thousand people...
It wasn't just for training—it hosted group spars, events, and naming ceremonies as a multipurpose venue.
Of course, such events weren't frequent, so the Gymnasium's usual vibe was just the moderate clamor of training heroes.
But today, it was unusually packed.
“No way... why are there so many people today?”
Ramon, from the C-grade clan [Corrupted], gawked at the crowd with wide eyes.
Sure, spectators sometimes showed up for promotion battles, but usually only a few dozen.
Yet today, there had to be at least a few hundred jammed into the Gymnasium.
Even Ramon, a ten-year veteran hero, had never seen anything like it.
“Most of the challengers in this promotion battle are famous.”
“Even so, there are tons of A-grades here too, right? Whoa, check it out! That's [Desert Scorpion]!”
Ramon shouted, pointing at a rough-looking group dressed in southern attire that screamed anything but heroic.
“Over there are [Brotherhood], I think? And [Frostell], [Heaven-Splitting Sword Squadron]... No way! Those giants are [Goliath]! I heard there are no giants among the challengers—why are they here?”
“Yawn.”
“Damn it, seriously. Are you listening, Bro?”
“Not bro—Boss. And yeah, I'm listening.”
A man with unusually pale skin muttered in a low voice.
With ashen long hair, red eyes, and aristocratic features, he didn't quite give off a refined air.
His perpetually bored expression and somewhat shabby attire killed any elegance: wrinkled shirt, soup-stained sleeves, scuffed shoes.
This man, as far from the heroic ideal as one could get, was [Corrupted]'s clan leader, Lanfero.
He wished to be called 'Boss,' but none of his clan members obliged the poor guy.
“And what's so weird about it? Just look at the lineup of challengers coming up.”
Lanfero pulled a document from his pocket and chucked it at his subordinate's face.
“Guh.”
“Genius alchemist, Winged Ears, next archmage... and even the Blood Iron Mace of the 72 Churches.”
“Sister Razbet, right? Heh heh... She's a beauty. I think her title's all wrong, though.”
“Yeah, every idiot who hasn't gone on a mission with her says that.”
“Huh?”
“You'd believe me if I said she loves blood more than I do?”
“Come on.”
Lanfero clicked his tongue. What a subordinate...
“Anyway... those big shots won't even glance at small fries like us, so skip 'em.”
“So who are you targeting, Bro? The mage?”
“Idiot. Don't you know how finicky mages are? They keep heroes around as tools from the start. The hero status alone brings perks. And this one's basically confirmed as the next Seven Colors archmage— even top A-grades would hesitate. How could we handle him?”
“Then the alchemist or Winged Ears?”
“Alchemist sent a golem in his place and skipped. Winged Ears already has an inside track with another clan.”
“Uh... so who's left?”
Lanfero grinned.
“Mercenary. And Gold Fairy.”
Ramon burst out laughing at that.
“Pfft—hahaha! Gold Fairy? What kinda funny nickname is that?”
Smack!
Lanfero promptly smacked his subordinate's head.
“Ow! Why?!”
“Read a damn newspaper for once. Especially the capital stuff—I told you to keep an eye on it.”
“Ugh...”
“Whatever. Focus. We need to watch how they fight too... if we wanna snag even one—”
“Think you can snag even one?”
A mocking voice cut in.
A robed middle-aged man approached, his wand and overall demeanor screaming mage.
“Guh.”
Ramon's face twisted like he'd bitten a bug. The mage smirked at him.
“Lanfero, your subordinate's got zero poker face.”
“Mind your own business. Why're you so nosy about other clans?”
“Can't help it. A clan on the skids like yours is about to meet its end. Dropping from A to C-grade, then disbanding... Gotta be the most shameful end in Heros clan history.”
“......”
Ramon's face hardened, lips trembling, but Lanfero replied calmly as ever.
“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Now beat it.”
“Hmph...”
With the clan leader brushing it off, the mage scowled and left.
Watching him go, Ramon muttered.
“...That guy's persistent as hell. Why's he so desperate to eat us up? Should worry about his own mess.”
“Wants our territory, obviously.”
“What? That barren wasteland with nothing on it? It's next to a camp—no incidents, worst spot for racking up achievements.”
“Bigger territory helps promote to A-grade. Plus, more funding on the side.”
“Materialistic jerk.”
“Yeah. Heroes are turning materialistic these days.”
Ramon plopped back down and peered at the stage.
“By the way, who's the A-grade opponent?”
“Right there—they're coming out.”
Ramon gaped at the heroes who appeared where Lanfero pointed.
“No... is that for real?”
“Hm.”
Even Lanfero was a bit surprised this time.
“Gunslinger Baron and Owl Dowdon. And Strong Sword Hiiro.”
The first two made sense, but the last was unexpected.
Hiiro Bednicker.
Among current A-grades, he was the most famous and promising—top of any shortlist.
Given his growth rate, reaching S-grade—Beyond the Heavens—was a sure bet someday.
‘Unexpected...’
Lanfero stroked his chin.
Strong Sword Hiiro was among A-grade elites and notoriously busy.
Some called him achievement-obsessed.
His mission count dwarfed other A-grades.
So yeah, surprising.
A-grade heroes.
Among Heros's countless heroes, they were an elite few—historically never over a hundred.
Demand for them always outstripped supply, causing chronic shortages.
Being an opponent in the third promotion battle was mandatory but rarely welcomed.
Busywork, basically.
No pay—pure volunteer.
Not without perks, though.
You could scout promising challengers early.
‘But Hiiro Bednicker has no clan?’
Lanfero realized with an 'ah.'
‘Ruan Bednicker.’
Maybe to check his brother's skills personally.
‘Tough luck.’
Lanfero knew the Bednicker brothers weren't close.
Hiiro probably wasn't volunteering to give his baby bro easy points.
The opposite, more like.
“Man... these challengers drew the short straw bad.”
“Why?”
“Why? Their examiners are all monsters. Not just Hiiro Bednicker—even [Gunslinger] and [Owl] are top-tier A-grades.”
“Hmm.”
Lanfero chuckled dryly.
“I see it the opposite way.”
“Opposite?”
“Yeah. Why they picked especially strong A-grades.”
“......?”
Historically, no challenger had ever beaten an examiner.
Makes sense.
Promotion battle challengers were usually B-grade or below—mostly C.
The gap between C and A was bigger than regular knight vs. knight captain.
Lose a hundred times out of a hundred.
So evaluation wasn't about win/loss.
‘But...’
This batch of challengers was no joke.
Rookies beyond 'promising.'
‘Could we see it today?’
A challenger beating an examiner—the unprecedented event.
Lanfero watched the stage with rare excitement, forgetting recruitment entirely.