S-Rank Adventurer
"Celestia Erienne El Fredericia. Please enter the testing room."
It was my turn. I picked up the Black Demon Sword leaning against the wall and stepped inside. A muscular man stood there holding a sword, surrounded by several priests who looked like healers. As I moved deeper into the room, the explanation began.
"Welcome. I'm Knight Bricksen, the instructor stationed at the Adventurer's Guild and the proctor for the registration exam. The test condition is simple: prove your skills in a spar with me."
The second stage of adventurer registration. The skill test. The method was straightforward—just duel the man in front of me. I loved it.
"What weapons can I use?"
"Use whatever you want."
"Are you confident you won't die?"
"What?"
"I'm not sure I can hold back from killing you with my beloved sword."
I said that while quietly scanning for something usable nearby. That's when I spotted the broom. It was propped in the corner for cleaning the testing room. Perfect.
I leaned the Black Demon Sword against the wall and picked up the broom. The man's face stiffened instantly. Ignoring him, I stepped forward, aimed the broom at him, and declared,
"I'll take you on with my eyes closed."
"Ha, you dare mock me? With your eyes closed? You must be awfully confident, but that attitude won't even get you D-rank—your adventurer eligibility will be revoked."
"Wait...! Instructor."
"Hm?"
Someone entered the testing room—the receptionist girl from earlier. She approached the instructor and whispered something. His expression gradually soured.
"What? Special class?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"W-well... We just finished verifying the student ID's authenticity..."
"Fine. Go back for now."
"Yes, sir!"
The receptionist saluted with one hand and returned to her post. The proctor stared at me silently, then drew his sword. A grin crept across his lips.
"I'll learn from this, applicant. Please don't disappoint."
His attitude had flipped. He was one of my kind—craving a fight with a strong opponent. I grinned back. I didn't mind sparring with people like him.
"Let's begin."
I swung the broom through the air once. It didn't make the sharp whoosh of a sword cutting wind, but that was fine. It was enough to beat the guy in front of me.
Thud!
I leaped at him, bringing a finger to my lips.
"Don't disappoint. That's what I wanted to say."
Bam!
I brought the broom down with one hand. The sword pressure shattered his stance in an instant. Overwhelming gap. He was clearly weaker than an academy professor—no matter what he did, he couldn't beat me. If he couldn't surpass Teacher Edn, satisfying me was impossible. And if he had, he'd be teaching at the academy, not the guild.
"Ngh...!"
"That's just the first strike."
I followed with the second.
Bam!
Even holding back, his stance crumbled easily. But with real combat experience, he recovered without leaving an opening. Intriguing. His build was inferior, but his skill was solid. With eyes closed, those fine details stood out.
I could crush him anytime, but I didn't. It wasn't bullying the weak. I was just curious how far his skill could compensate for his class.
"You've trained hard with the sword."
"An honor to have you notice, applicant!"
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Each broom swing unleashed sonic booms and thunderous roars. Instead of striking decisively, I gave him time, observing closely how he endured. Muscle twitches, mana flow, gaze, thoughts—I read it all, mentally logging how he instinctively blocked my heavy strikes.
Finally, just before the broom snapped, I decided on 32 strikes.
"You should prepare."
"How kind!"
"Kenbu 32 Strike."
Saying just "32 Strike" felt uncool. Technique names were crucial—they exploded with style. I added "Kenbu" on the spot.
"Kenbu."
Eyes closed, I focused. Everything sharpened: his movements, the situation. Closing my eyes made me stronger. Enemy weaknesses glowed; my actions clarified. Every move gained purpose; all stats rose naturally. Full concentration mode engaged. I targeted his visible flaws with dozens of blows.
Kenbu 32 Strike.
I swung the broom.
Bam! Boom! Bam!
By the fifth strike, the proctor flew back, unable to hold. At ten, the broom's tip snapped. At fifteen, it caught fire. By nineteen, craters scarred the floor like sword marks. When 32 ended, the area was devastated. All protective barriers shattered; the ceiling had holes. The broom was now doorknob-sized.
Whoosh—
"Hot..."
I tossed the broom remnant aside. Regrettably, he'd endured only six strikes. Teacher Edn had lasted over twenty. Without skill, he'd have folded at three.
"Haa... You're a monster..."
"Bill repairs to the Fredericia family."
Any building damage from toying with the proctor? Dad would handle it via connections. For the family, he'd oblige.
"Anyway... Time for rank evaluation?"
The proctor rose dazedly, grabbed scattered papers. Healers treated his minor wounds. The interview was quick. Result: S-rank, naturally. I started at the top.
"I've been waiting. Curious about the result."
Stuffing my new S-rank adventurer card in my pocket, I exited the guild. Yuria Lisus El Rehitkel, sitting on the stairs, called out. She'd waited? I thought she'd left.
"Curious about my result?"
"Even outside, the crashes echoed. When you entered the test, everyone in the guild froze."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"Word's spread you're from the academy's special class..."
No wonder the guild was eerily quiet exiting, stares converging. That explained it. Tell me sooner—I could've milked more praise...
"S-rank."
"Beyond specs, huh."
"What rank are you, Miss Yuria?"
"B-rank. Skill's A-level, but no combat experience—they'll promote after I prove it."
"I see. Good luck."
I nodded and walked past. Small talk over. But Yuria followed.
"Wait, Celestia. Need a party?"
"I prefer solo."
"You saw at orientation—I'm more helpful than I seem. For adventuring, parties let you take high-risk quests, right?"
Logical. But I had no quest plans. Just needed the card—for looting bandits, fencing stolen goods at the guild for profit. And outside, one card sufficed—no more hiding in cargo wagons.
"I can handle high-risk solo. And it's not for money."
I touched my lips, grinning.
"Just needed this."
I waved the card.
Glancing at the time—evening neared. Tight for today's earnings.
"Anyway, good luck. Oh, tip: survival class heads to a dungeon. Stick by Glan."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Just is."
A gift for Yuria, who'd given me precious "praise." She liked Glan. So did Mariella. She fell for righteous, strong men—Glan fit perfectly. Intuition said a dungeon chance to score points with him. The rest was hers.
"See you."
I leaped to a rooftop. Faster than streets. Ninja-like, I vaulted buildings toward the capital's gates.
Darkness slowly blanketed the capital's sky. Black-hooded, masked men checked watches anxiously, awaiting something.
"Why aren't they here on time?"
"Weird... Something's off."
Hours past schedule, no goods—they grew restless. One man finally said he'd check and left.
"If I don't return on time, flee and report up."
He vanished into shadows, rooftop-hopping. He entered a sewer, exited the capital expertly, and raced somewhere.
He reached a mountain cave hideout near the capital. At the entrance, thick blood scent hit.
"What...?"
No need to look further. Plan failed. Something wrong. He drew a dagger, crept in. There, a satisfied girl faced him—eyes closed, sword aimed quietly.
"Oh, lucky. Still someone left..."
Those were the last words he heard before dying.