The Special Promotion Test
With the situation at the guild finally settled, Rina handed Bagan his adventurer registration card. Clorsus and his party members glanced around nervously before quickly slipping out of the building.
“As you know, ranks range from the lowest Bronze all the way to the highest Adamantium. Since this is your first registration, you’ll begin at Bronze.”
Bagan nodded.
Bronze rank.
It literally meant the lowest-tier adventurer, with very few requests available. That was exactly why Bagan immediately slid the card back across the counter.
“There’s a Special Promotion Test, right?”
The Special Promotion Test was a system the Demeca Adventurer Guild had created to nurture talent while preserving balance between the ranks. Normal promotions required completing a set number of appropriate quests for each tier, submitting proof, and paying a small fee. The Special Promotion Test, however, was a far more progressive system built on trust. Pass the exam and you could skip straight to a higher rank without wasting time at a level beneath your ability.
“We do have it, but…” Rina replied, eyeing him with clear hesitation. Her reaction wasn’t unreasonable.
“No one has ever passed it.”
Since the system’s introduction, not a single person had cleared the test. Its difficulty was notoriously brutal.
“That’s fine. I’ll take it right now.”
“…Understood. Someone like you, Sir Bagan, might actually have a chance.”
Recalling the recent incident, Rina coolly admitted to herself that Bagan was nowhere near Bronze material. The highest rank reachable through the Special Promotion Test was Gold. As the guild’s receptionist, she knew the ranks of most adventurers. The man Bagan had just knocked out with a single punch—Clorsus—was a Gold-rank adventurer. By that comparison alone, Bagan’s strength was clearly not below that level.
Having reached that conclusion, Rina promptly began guiding him.
“There are three examiners in charge of the promotion test.”
“Character, Wisdom, and Courage, right?”
“Yes, each responsible for their respective… How did you know that?”
“I must’ve heard it somewhere. Anyway, can we start immediately?”
Bagan already knew the process from experience. He didn’t need any further explanation.
“Ahem. Very well. Please proceed to the window on the left. The first examiner will be waiting.”
Rina seemed to have given up trying to dissuade him and offered an awkward smile as she directed him. Only after Bagan walked away did she finally let out a long sigh of relief.
Following her instructions, Bagan moved to the window on the left and opened the door without hesitation. His mental preparation had been completed three years ago—the moment he first started playing the game.
This brings back memories.
Doing in reality what he had only done in a game filled him with unexpected nostalgia. Still, he continued deeper into the room.
There sat a woman in pure white priestess robes, a shoulder mantle embroidered with the yellow double-scale symbol of the Priya Religion. A white cloth completely covered her hair, topped by a white hood. The sight was striking.
The first examiner is Priestess Mulan.
Bagan confirmed her identity and stepped forward.
“May Goddess Priya guide your path. Adventurer of righteous values, what is your name?”
Adventurers who took the Special Promotion Test were rare, so it had been a while since she last sat in the examiner’s seat. She began the proceedings with practiced grace. Mulan’s role was to assess the adventurer’s character. While she was not a direct representative of the divine, the testimony of a priestess carried significant weight.
“Bagan.”
“Bagan, in the name of Goddess Priya, I shall ask you a question.”
She moved straight into the first test, fulfilling her duty without delay.
“You are an outstanding adventurer. Choose which of the following interests you most: a red wolf and a child with an entirely blue body, an eagle with one torn wing and a calf with crushed hind legs, or a collapsed wall and a cave so dark you cannot see even an inch ahead.”
Bagan didn’t think long. The first test didn’t care which option you picked.
“The red wolf and the child with the blue body.”
“And your reason?”
“Because an adventurer’s mindset is to embrace all things without discrimination, regardless of the reason.”
The answer was a line the game character had spoken. Every choice had its own valid response.
“Correct. You pass. Open that door and proceed to the next examiner.”
Bagan walked past Mulan as though it were the most natural thing in the world and approached the side door she had indicated.
Next is Bertrand the Sharp-Tongued.
When he opened the door, he found himself in a moderately spacious archive. He passed shelves lined with books whose titles alone looked difficult, then spotted Bertrand sitting in a chair, absorbed in reading.
Bertrand was the guild analyst responsible for evaluating request difficulty, assigning ranks, and determining rewards. He was an exceptionally intelligent man. Among adventurers he was known as Bertrand the Sarcastic, famous for unleashing cutting remarks on anyone who failed to meet his standards.
“Hmph. So you somehow passed the character test. Mulan lets just about anyone through, so your real ability will be exposed here. Now, stop wasting my reading time and solve this.”
He threw paper and a quill at Bagan with obvious irritation. Bertrand’s test measured wisdom, and the method was straightforward: sit down and solve the problems. The difficulty level was exactly as Bagan expected.
Herb combinations or monster weaknesses.
It had always been that way, so it was only natural. Sure enough, the paper contained basic alchemical formulas and monster-related questions. One asked for the ingredients needed to create a recovery potion—commonly called a red potion—while the other asked how to handle a mandragora, a precious herb classified as a monster, if you accidentally stepped on one.
Listing ingredients was simple enough, but the mandragora question was notoriously unfair for beginners. Dozens of rumored countermeasures existed, yet none were considered definitively correct. What Bertrand wanted was the most plausible solution.
Bagan quickly wrote the recovery potion formula, then moved on to the mandragora section. Mandragoras were expensive high-grade herbs, but obtaining an intact specimen was incredibly difficult. In fact, before the method Bagan was writing became known, harvesting a perfect mandragora had been considered impossible.
Normally, herbalists discovered them first or adventurers stepped on them by accident. The problem was that the moment you stepped on one, it unleashed a mana-infused shriek that caused severe mental confusion. Unless treated by a skilled priest, the victim could not be cured. The confused adventurer would have no choice but to let the moving mandragora escape.
Was the herbalist method any better? No. They killed the mandragora before harvesting it, which degraded its quality and medicinal effect. So what was the real solution?
The key was the mana-infused shriek. You simply had to wait until the mandragora’s mana was completely exhausted before harvesting it.
Bagan finished writing and handed the paper to Bertrand. The examiner looked back and forth between the sheet and Bagan with clear contempt, apparently misunderstanding something.
“As expected, how disappointing…”
A scathing remark was about to fly out, but it died in his throat. Bertrand swallowed hard.
“D-did you discover this mandragora countermeasure yourself?”
He was both a brilliant tactician and a scholar who studied monster ecology. Someone with such curiosity could hardly stay silent after reading Bagan’s answer.
It won’t be discovered for quite some time yet.
The method Bagan had written was originally discovered by Decaron, the 7-star hero who ruled the orc nation of Dubrak—known as the Blazing Decaron. His fiery personality rendered mild mental attacks meaningless, so the mandragora’s shriek had no effect on him. He had accidentally stepped on one, found it annoying, and stomped on it again. The result was an almost perfect specimen, which he promptly chewed and swallowed. The story later spread across the world through the songs of bards.
“Of course. If I had a perfect mandragora, I could even show you one…”
Bagan answered with confidence. He felt a little sorry for Decaron, but the orc king wasn’t the type to care who received credit for the discovery.
“Excellent! You pass! The alchemical formula is superb as well… I like clever adventurers, so try not to die somewhere foolish.”
Since Bagan already knew the way forward, he ignored Bertrand’s final burst of sarcasm and headed straight for the next door.
The last one is Guildmaster Gion, the Water-Biter.
When he opened the door, he saw a massive man standing in the center of the training ground, spear in hand. He looked perfectly human, but Gion was not.
“Oh, you’re here? Bertrand is such a difficult bastard that I was planning to just meditate in the training ground again.”
“As expected of a Lycan—your presence is on another level.”
The race known as Lycans. Under a full moon they naturally grew wild and transformed into wolf-men. Powerful Lycans could control the change, but their violence in that form was legendary.
“You speak as if you know our kind well. We’re not a race you see every day.”
As Gion said, after a series of tragic events the Lycans had nearly been driven to extinction. The few survivors had scattered, and many of their descendants lived without even knowing their own heritage.
“I’m the guild union master.”
Gion served not only as master of the Demeca Adventurer Guild but as union master of adventurer guilds across the entire world.
“Did no one teach you to use polite speech with someone in my position?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Then I shall teach you.”
“You might never get the chance.”
“How arrogant.”
Gion frowned at Bagan’s attitude. He wanted to scold him immediately, but he couldn’t. It had been a long time since anyone had faced him without fear.
Battle involved many factors. One was seizing the initiative. Gion usually overwhelmed opponents with his sheer size. Yet Bagan showed not fear but a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Challengers like him fell into two categories: complete novices who didn’t understand the world, or novices who knew basic arithmetic but hadn’t been beaten enough. Thanks to that, Bagan’s first impression was carving itself sharply into Gion’s mind.
“I’d like to start quickly.”
Despite his words, Bagan held deep respect for Gion. His important role as a member of another race, his legendary career as a powerful adventurer, and the things he would accomplish in the future—by Bagan’s standards, there was nothing about the man that didn’t deserve admiration.
That was why he surrendered himself to the pounding in his chest. He had experienced this event countless times before, but this particular duel held special meaning.
“Very well. The test is simple. Land a valid hit on me.”
“Simple enough.”
“Simple, you say… You’re lucky. There’s no full moon tonight.”
He shook his white hair—thick as a lion’s mane—with wild grace and adjusted his grip on the spear. It was an invitation.
Thud!
Bagan read the signal and moved instantly. He planned to fight without using his traits at first. Trump cards were most effective when revealed later. Besides, he wanted to test who was superior in pure physical ability.
“No weapon?”
Gion seemed willing to allow bladed weapons, but Bagan had none. He would have to rely solely on his body.
He approached Gion in a relaxed manner, then accelerated at the last moment to induce carelessness. His foot lashed out opposite the hand holding the spear.
Swish!
A side kick aimed at Gion’s flank. Gion had been a renowned adventurer in his prime, and as a Lycan he possessed beast-like senses. His eyes accurately tracked Bagan’s leg.
Clang!
It was blocked far too easily. The speed with which he switched the spear to his other hand was incredible.
“Your movements are decent, but that alone makes your confidence seem rather baseless.”
Bagan couldn’t help feeling slightly flustered.
Was my strength not enough?
Thinking that, he retreated as though stepping off the spear and reset his stance. The challenger’s goal in this spar was to land a valid hit on Gion. Therefore Gion would not move from his position—he would only block or dodge.
“If that was your best, you may turn around and leave right now.”
Gion spoke dismissively, but Bagan had barely begun. He didn’t bother replying.
Bang!
This time he vanished from Gion’s field of vision entirely.
“So you’re not just a tadpole that only played in shallow waters.”
Feeling Bagan’s speed steadily increase, Gion revised his opinion—from an adventurer full of nothing but confidence to a true adventurer fighting with genuine seriousness.
“Here!”
Gion refused to be distracted by the shout. Using every sense available in combat, he noticed that the sound of the fist cutting through the air and Bagan’s voice had come from completely different directions.
Swish!
Once again, Bagan’s fist was stopped by Gion’s spear.
“You have the fundamentals, but you’re still missing that decisive strike.”
Afterward, Bagan repeatedly targeted Gion’s blind spots, launched combination attacks, and tried unexpected moves to create openings, but every attempt failed.
“Huu~”
Finally, as if he’d seen enough, Bagan withdrew to a distance.
“Giving up already? It seems I misjudged you. I thought things might finally get interesting for once.”
Gion hadn’t shed a single drop of sweat.
“Get interesting, huh… When it comes to heat, I don’t like coming in second. Want to see?”
“From the way you’re talking, it doesn’t sound like you’re ready to quit.”
Bagan had grown somewhat angry at how ineffective his attacks had been. Thanks to that frustration, a certain trait suddenly came to mind.
“It’s cold today. Let me warm things up for you.”
Whoosh!
Bagan’s hair burst into crimson flames as rings of fire formed around him.