Graduation
Hekate subtly lifted the corner of her mouth, curiosity flickering across her face at my words.
Before I could launch into the tale of the mutated creatures we’d faced, I glanced around with exaggerated flair and asked, “Speaking of which, where’s Mea? I figured she must have stepped out for a minute.”
“…She went to the League.”
Hekate gave me a short, meaningful silence—half a beat of surprise—then continued as if there were no other way to answer.
“She had her report on last year’s internship to finish. And she’s got some business tied to this entrance exam too.”
“Ah.”
So that’s why the school was on borrowed time after all.
If a regular magic school falls out of favor, the government support grant dries up completely.
No real profit model, and Thelema School wasn’t the type to chase expeditions like the others for quick money. For them, that was a death sentence.
It was the same old story: zombies that only survived because they were chained to government subsidies and nothing else.
My worry and pity were clear in my single blunt line. Hekate shot back without thinking.
“I-It’s fine! The numbers are already almost full because you came in, and the money you gave us last time covered the urgent stuff…!”
The minimum for a school was eight members.
There were already five, so I made it six. The other two were probably salvageable. Worst case, we could borrow Ray and Leaf’s names and stuff them in.
Before that, the two empty slots had already been filled with ghost members—names only.
“Mea’s internship performance was actually decent. She earned a solid score. Honestly… it feels like everything’s thanks to you, Roman.”
“Not entirely wrong. I filled every single requirement—headcount, operating funds, evaluation points. Same difference.”
“Oh, right. Mea said she’s planning to descend into the Abyss again.”
I had nothing to say, so she turned the conversation back. Hekate took my lead without needing a hint.
She was operating with the precision of someone who’d been the head of a school for too long.
“So Mea hasn’t joined any guild, right?”
“Yeah. I’m guessing she’ll be forming her own team.”
Since she mentioned having business with the League, she probably wanted to recruit solo explorers like her.
“Demonomancers are tricky, though.”
I had already extracted a promise from Mea.
She wouldn’t say a single word about me.
Hekate must have guessed a little already, but even so I’d forbidden any more mentions.
If she didn’t prove she could cancel the debt, Mea would still be labeled a demonologist whether she liked it or not.
“That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”
“Why not?”
Hekate shrugged, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
“Mea’s rank is only Senior. If she were operating at her true level, she’d already be an Expert at least.”
She was right.
Even I had noticed the huge gap between Mea and the other two Seniors—Freela and Jake.
But that wasn’t the issue.
Saying “I’ve got an Expert” out loud felt… wrong.
“But don’t magic schools usually have Experts? They say the number of Masters is the real measure of a faction’s power, according to Holson.”
That was exactly what I wanted to hear.
Hekate’s head drooped like a willow branch in front of my innocent question.
“…Yeah. We’re a tiny school with no Masters at all…”
“Come on, hang in there! Roman’s here, so you’ll grow fast!”
I was half-tempted to tell her she could just go out and explore herself, but she had her reasons.
“Anyway, back to Mea. She’s planning to descend into the Abyss again.”
§
“Yes, confirmation received.”
Mea had registered the team.
Teams weren’t required to register like guilds, but for safety it was wise to report to the League.
Keeping records let them prevent most reckless expeditions in advance.
Of course we’d need to recruit the remaining members, but Mea had already placed the recruitment notice in the League’s job section.
Today’s mission for her was complete.
*I’ll take a quick chat before I head back.*
It was the perfect timing. The League was in full recruitment mode for fresh blood.
Explorer was a job with a brutal turnover.
People died constantly, new faces kept coming in.
So when big waves arrived, the groups paused expeditions to recruit and stockpile talent in the city.
Right now was one of those moments.
The pub near the League office was buzzing with nothing but guild talk.
Mea ordered milk and claimed a quiet corner seat.
Thanks to her special hearing, she could still pick out one conversation amid the chaos.
She sipped slowly and eavesdropped on a nearby table.
“These new recruits are something else.”
“Frontier or Conqueror?”
“Guilds are already fighting tooth and nail for talent.”
Talent wars happened mostly between guilds.
Schools rarely moved.
Guilds and schools were completely different organizations from the start.
Schools were basically a society of mages.
Mages joined a school to learn magic, train, study the mysteries, and spread new insights.
So schools mainly recruited people who wanted to become mages.
What about someone who was already a finished mage?
They’d have entered their preferred school long ago.
Guilds, on the other hand, cared more about conquering the Abyss and chasing glory and wealth.
They covered far broader roles than schools, so their target pool was much larger.
They focused on real-world performance rather than schooling.
If schools spent about thirty percent of their time on Abyss exploration, guilds spent seventy.
Because of that focus, people who loved the Abyss often stayed in guilds and only hung their names on school doors.
Dual membership was extremely rare.
People who joined a school and then switched to a guild were common.
In short, roughly fifty people had passed the League’s entrance exam, plus hundreds more from large guilds or schools with their own licensing rights.
With so many new explorers flooding in, guilds had turned the city upside down searching for talent.
The three men at the table weren’t guild members.
Otherwise they wouldn’t be talking like that.
They were still hunting in the city and first layer, eyes burning with hunger.
“So which guild do you think is going to win the talent market this time?”
“Frontier or Conqueror, obviously. They’re the top two right now.”
Frontier and Conqueror.
The two guilds that owned eight of the eight Pioneer slots had been dominating talent raids for years.
“Frontier’s boss’s own disciple is in the running this time.”
“Really? I heard he’s amazing.”
“He’s more than that. Uhm… this is info I had to dig for. There was a raid at the training school, right?”
Mea’s long elf ears twitched.
*Training school raid?*
Roman had said he’d graduated…
While Mea was still thinking about him, the men continued.
They knew all the details.
The grand dukes, the city, and the League had tried their best to hush everything up, but rumors still leaked from the shadows.
Those in the know had heard the story.
The raid on the training school was exactly that level of secret.
The youngest-looking of the three leaned in and whispered.
“The one who drove the raiders off was the disciple’s work.”
“Of course. The new star of the year is him. Even the Duchess and the Wind Saint are a step behind.”
“He was trained personally by the Pioneer. The dukes and schools are impressive too, but compared to the Pioneer…”
Just as the men finished, the lone man at the next table scraped his chair loudly and stood.
He crossed the space in one stride and slammed his palm on the table.
“You three… are you from a school?”
“What?”
“Sudden much?”
“Clan.”
The eldest of the three answered.
“Ah, clan. That explains why you’re not very sharp.”
Guilds, schools, clans.
The three main groups explorers joined—Golden Branch School was the only exception.
As the most closed of the three, the clan would know even less.
The man thought the same thing.
“It’s not him. The top talent this generation has to be one of three.”
The man who’d just mentioned the clan fell silent, biting his tongue.
The clan member chuckled and flicked a gold coin across the table.
“A sufficient payment, I hope?”
“Of course. The top talent is one of: demonologist, elementalist, beastman combat mage. Certain.”
“…You’re joking.”
The man’s hand shot toward his hilt as if ready to draw his blade.
Mentioning all three commoner classes was the same as saying *I’m toying with you right now.*
But the man was serious.
“Calm down. I was the one who handled the exam this time. You’ll see how cheap it was later.”
The clan men looked doubtful, but the air had already shifted. They probably knew the gold wasn’t worth that much.
“Anyway, good luck. Recruiting for the clan is hell, isn’t it?”
“You’re one to talk. You’re the exam handler and an info dealer. Money must be tight.”
“Not really. This is more like repaying a favor.”
Jake laughed softly, thinking of the three men who’d saved him.
He had talent and good connections, yet he was still an independent.
He must be waiting to raise his price before joining.
In that case, another debt was owed.
*I’ll spread rumors somewhere else*, Jake thought, scanning the room.
He felt a presence behind him and turned on instinct.
“Empty?”
A quiet voice came from below.
A dark elf.
No, a very small one.
“…Business?”
“Roman? Just now.”
“The other side…?”
Jake’s mind spun. The League had demonologists, hadn’t they? That was when Mea spoke.
“I’ve recruited one member.”
“…Huh?”
Member? Who? Me?
Jake was still processing when someone else seized the moment.
“I’ll go too! I’ll work hard!”
Freela was pleading desperately while Mea, clearly unable to refuse, nodded.
Jake watched from the side and could only laugh.
*That’s Blastma school, right?*
What a relief…
*Roman, what the hell are you doing? You’ve already scooped up Frontier, Alexandria, and the city’s guild. Now you’ve got Blastma too?*
Terrifying. Terrifying.
He had no idea how far that spider web of connections stretched.
In the end, Jake gave Mea his name—nine-tenths because he wanted to, one-tenth because he had to.
The roster of Mea’s newly formed team, Chosen, now included Freela Levinson and Jake Muren.
The recruitment notice Mea had posted vanished from the League job board within a day.
“Recruitment closed.”
It was the reason.