Chapter 131
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Namesake -1-
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Rike stopped by the bakery early in the morning. We ate breakfast together and headed to the academy.
With no practical class today, I did some training in the courtyard before coming to the Adventurer's Guild to wait for Eclair.
Robert had been subtly getting on my nerves, but I'd hired an outrageously expensive informant from the information guild to tail him just for today, which eased my worries a bit.
'Money's best spent like this.'
I wondered what kind of crowd would be holding down the fort at the Adventurer's Guild today.
If some out-of-towners picked a fight with the capital's adventurers, it'd make for good entertainment and help pass the time.
...
When an adventurer who'd been a regular face at the guild suddenly vanishes.
Most of the time, it's because they've retired to run an inn or quit due to injury.
That's why we don't pry too much into cases where someone disappears without a trace.
It might dredge up some grim reality—and remind us of our own potential future.
An adventurer's life is a gathering of people pretending it's a comedy, forcing cheer amid the gloom.
If you fail a request to hunt monsters that prey on humans but succeed in recovering the bodies or bones, you're considered damn lucky.
That's practically an unwritten rule among adventurers.
If there's no word of success after a request and they don't return after plenty of time, we treat them as dead.
Rarely, they might cause a huge mess, dodge responsibility, and flee to the Federation or some forgotten petty independent state...
Adventuring is a rough trade, both for the adventurers and the guild managing them.
So running into old buddies you haven't seen in ages feels all the more welcoming.
'Today's feeling pretty good.'
As I pushed open the guild doors, the miracle of no cigarette stench greeted me, spurring on my baseless hunch that things were looking up.
I nodded back at the busy receptionist and paused briefly, pondering where to head next.
'Might as well go down.'
Still plenty of time left, so I headed to the basement tavern. Sure enough, rumors of more out-of-town adventurers and rookies had drawn a clear influx of new faces.
And weaving through them was a familiar pink-haired woman who caught my eye.
"Liliane~ Long time no see."
"Ah! Roman!"
Me? I only teach Seria once a week in practical class.
Seeing Seria's carefree, vibrant expression at the academy, I'd figured her big sis Liliane was doing fine.
And for Liliane, hearing I was still teaching at the academy was proof enough I was alive.
"Roman! What, am I invisible?"
"Yeah, yeah—still kicking, huh? What a relief."
I tossed a casual reply to Rak at the same table and pulled up an empty chair to sit.
This party had a guy named Chambers. Younger than Rak and someone you could actually have a cultured chat with.
But after a massive drunken screw-up, he'd sworn off booze and stopped showing at the tavern. Impressively, the vow was holding strong.
An adventurer swearing off drink is like smoke or a mirage—gone in an instant.
"Rak. Digging in."
It used to be a common sight, but since I've been living with Rike, this setup felt fresh again.
Rak saw me nonchalantly tucking into the table's food and let out an exasperated chuckle, clearly thinking the same.
"Jeez—help yourself. Can't you act a bit more befitting your station?"
Top adventurers in the Empire.
'Act worthy of Platinum'? Adventuring's all about living free— what's he on about?
I knew he meant well, but the idea that I'd listen to him was laughable from the start.
"Then shouldn't Rak, who's stuck at Gold, start using respectful speech toward me if he wants to match his own station with some dignity?"
"..."
I ignored the guy radiating 'anything but that' vibes at my politeness dripping with sarcasm and started devouring the food.
Once I'd polished off some grub and a drink, Liliane leaned in and whispered,
"Roman... how's Seria doing...?"
To the question I'd expected, I shared my honest take from class.
"She's doing great. Her passion's scorching me."
Liliane beamed at the praise for her diligence, but worry lingered over her little sister's single-minded adventurer dream.
"She's only interested in your classes at the academy. Theory lessons? She just barely avoids failing... I wish she'd broaden her horizons, consider other careers. It's troubling..."
"That's odd. My classes are pretty tough, y'know? Full of kids who make it obvious they hate it."
I'd assumed the redhead poured that passion into every class, but theory was her weak spot, huh.
Total opposite of Liliane—easy to picture, which made her concern both understandable and kinda funny.
I chuckled, and Liliane smacked my shoulder.
"This is serious—don't laugh... Sigh... She hasn't even mentioned other adventurers lately... Roman, don't you have a gift for teaching?"
"Me? Nah, I've never taught anything advanced... Just basics."
With Rike, it's not just lessons—I pour my all into her dazzling growth at home too.
Claude's Eclair's little bro, and his shy 'big bro' act is adorable, so he's my second favorite after Rike.
Seria? She's just reaping exactly what she sows with her effort.
"I know it's a huge ask... but could you get her even a little interested in economics or alchemy theory—"
Liliane ventured cautiously, but a sharp voice cut her off, echoing through the tavern.
"Roman... you idiot!! Get up here, now!"
Not Eclair's voice, but a woman calling my name turned my head instinctively.
—Sorry... We've lived in the Federation, seen how hard life is for mixed-bloods... We couldn't bear to watch a child suffer because of mixed-blood parents...
One day, my parents called me over and said I'd been born in the Volasen Federation.
While some from the Empire flee to the Federation, my folks were the opposite.
Dad was a dragonkin-human half-breed; Mom, a dark elf-human half-breed.
Half-breeds like us aren't welcome anywhere. Not even in the Federation, which embraces multiple races.
I figured it couldn't be much worse than the Empire, where non-purebloods hide away or prove exceptional talent for permission to live as otherkin amid human-first zealotry.
With hopes the Federation—which pretends to embrace half-breeds outwardly—was better, we fled when I was too young to speak.
Now, we've settled into stability through hard work.
Surprisingly, both look fully human at a glance.
Dad's build is inhumanly robust; using skills or mana sprouts dragonkin horns, with eyes and fangs shifting to draconic traits.
Mom, true to her beauty-race heritage, was stunningly gorgeous with exceptional magic talent.
Me? I inherited that blood—a true mongrel, neither here nor there.
Staring in the mirror always sparked identity crises.
'Am I... human? Dragonkin? Elf? Or nothing at all?'
I took after Mom's looks, had talent for certain elemental magic... but my skin was a deep brown, like kids romping in the sun all day.
Dad's consolation that it looked healthy only bugged me more.
Overuse magic or mana, and horns sprout; eyes and fangs turn draconic.
Thankfully, daily mana use is rare.
I didn't need body reinforcement—I'm strong as is.
Pure muscle crushes stone to dust; untrained blades can't pierce my skin.
Once, as a kid, a bum tried kidnapping me. My panicked flailing caved his face in, killing him.
Even as an odd half-breed, daily life was fine.
Parents paved the way through their struggles.
Dad ran a small martial arts guild teaching pure hand-to-hand; Mom balanced research at a famed mage guild with homemaking.
Watching their versatility, I pondered my path and chose adventuring.
By the age others wed or nobles entered academies, my party hit Gold rank in Edelmann.
Not the Empire's youngest Gold, but unprecedented in Edelmann—a huge feat that fueled my drive upward.
I had my parents' talents, after all.
'If I reach Platinum...'
The subtle discrimination my half-breed parents still faced.
They brushed off unfair treatment to avoid trouble, but I wanted change.
For non-high nobles, fastest way: hit Platinum, own my half-breed status proudly, rack up good deeds and exploits.
Bards would spread the tales, giving hope to the discriminated.
Decision made, I called my friend—fellow adventurer and party mate.
"Roman. Let's head to the capital."
"...Outta nowhere?"
"You wanna settle here?"
Childhood friend Roman, raised together.
Son of a retired Gold-rank adventurer running a swordsmanship guild across from Dad's martial arts place.
He inherited sword talent; we partied up as a duo.
Plain human, but never eyed me or my folks with prejudice—solid skills too.
"Requests here cap out for Golds like us aiming higher."
"Hmm... Can't we just keep it like this? Pay's decent..."
His occasional indecisiveness irked me, but my mind was set—I informed, not persuaded.
"Do what you want... I'm going solo if I have to. I'll find a new party in the capital."
"Th-the capital's dangerous as hell!"
"Don't care. Leaving tomorrow."
I left protesting Roman with that and headed home.
...
...
Convincing parents wasn't hard.
They fretted openly but wouldn't block my path.
Promised frequent letters and visits on request breaks. Packed up, left Edelmann via gate with Roman, arrived capital.
The guild brimmed with high-risk jobs right off the bat.
Plenty of fellow Golds, but we were the youngest by far.
Elites rare back home dotted the place.
Chatting with them: Golds with veteran cred but no Sapphire promo.
Even same rank, they outclassed us clearly.
Each vet encounter fanned my expectations for high-rankers.
'Lucky, maybe spot a Sapphire or Platinum...? Would Sapphire beat Dad?'
Wondered how strong.
Rumors of a Platinum namesake to my Roman—Empire's youngest. I'd heard.
Solo-solved suicidal requests; youngest Platinum ever—a myth.
'Climb hard, we'll meet someday.'
Solos like him had scarce achievement intel.
Only weird rumors shielding info—no solid deeds on Platinum Roman yet.
Capital adventurers said he popped in for gigs... but I wasn't naive enough to buy that.
No way epic figures like Sapphire or Platinum haunted this dingy guild and smoky basement tavern.
Sapphires get VIP treatment—mansion waits with fine liquor; receptionists deliver requests.
So I needed equal rank to even meet and chat.
Push nonstop. Had to.
"Argh... seriously...!"
Told Roman: check for church folk for joint missions downstairs, then come up. Long overdue, no sign.
Irked by adventurers' glances, the girl stomped downstairs to the basement tavern, fury building.
'That idiot...!!'
Spotting Roman in the corner, grinning dumbly amid lady adventurers, downing drinks—rage flipped a switch.
Like always scolding his wishy-washiness, she tensed and bellowed,
"Roman... you idiot!! Get up here, now!"
The tavern went dead silent, like ice water dumped.
'Huh...?'
Sudden chill evaporated her anger, snapping her to.
Fearful glances spying on someone; thrilled faces expectant of drama.
Creak—
A muscled man shoved back his chair, rose.
Thud—thud—
Stood before her.