Chapter 2 The Adventurer with a Blank Slate

“You three, I’ll go through the Guild unless you’ve got any objections. That all right with you?” I asked the other members, just in case.

“Thirty gold!” exclaimed Bel. “Umm, thirty divided by five, that’s…”

“You mean six,” corrected Shuna.

“No need to include me in that. Divide it among yourselves,” Pops ordered.

I watched the three talk it through, then looked over to our mage lady, who stood a little way off and got visual approval. Do whatever you want, her eyes told me.

“I’d like to sell it to the Guild,” I told the butcher. “Oh, but could I get however much meat one piece of gold is worth? Make it a spareribs cut with the bone attached.”

“You got it. Your name?”

“Souya of Japan.”

“All right, Souya of Japan. I’ll give your counselor the final workup and your cut later, so here’s your receipt for now.”

I took the scroll he handed me. Nothing remained of the boar by this point but part of its intestines. My party and I turned to leave. I was absolutely exhausted, but the rush of superiority I felt for a job well done somehow pushed me forward. Plus, the sense of relief to have Pops with us was amazing. He started talking as we walked.

“I’m gonna give y’all one piece of advice: Don’t get all excited just ’cause you won a battle. Don’t let your guard down. Even if they look like pushovers, all monsters have the innate instinct to survive. Always remember that. Conduct yourselves with that in mind. If you have even the slightest doubt about defeating your enemy, run. Some idiots claim that to be an adventurer is to be reckless, but they always end up as boar food.

“Don’t expect someone will always be there to give you the answers. Think of a solution yourselves, even if it’s the wrong move. Fail over and over again and learn from the experience. Don’t give up hope after one or two hundred failures. Never abandon your friends. But don’t put too much faith in them, either. Rely on them. Don’t run away to save yourself. Run away to save them. And finally, survive. That’s all. I guess that might be a bit too much to take in.”

Should I point out how much of an understatement one was there?

Anyway, nothing really noteworthy happened after that. Pops single-handedly, and I mean that literally, cleaned up any other random monsters that popped up. And then, we made it to the fifth floor. After that, Pops took the lead and got us through it at a quick clip. In the blink of an eye, we’d crossed the whole floor, found a portal near the staircase going down to the sixth floor, and wasted no time in getting ourselves authenticated.

“Okay, now all that’s left is to wash up and you’re done. Make sure you scrub down your equipment, too,” Pops reminded us. “Good work out there. You’re all on the right track.”

I put my hand over the portal, and it displayed the different floors of the dungeon. It was gesture-controlled. Did that mean technology that advanced too far for its own good was indistinguishable from magic? And vice versa? I selected the first floor, dived into the light, and just like that, my first exploration down into the dungeon ended.

I could only answer How was it? with a simple phrase: soul-crushingly exhausting.

A drunken party next to us broke out into a wild revelry, never mind the fact that it was still midday. We’d come to a bar run by a guy with a mohawk, which the Guild apparently owned. Parties of beastfolk and fresh initiates like us sat to either side of our table. We could hear them singing ballads exalting the deeds of fallen comrades. One of the parties not at the bar had evidently already lost one of their own. We’d come pretty close, too, especially our Lord Knight, who still looked a bit pale.

“So in the end, we got thirty-four gold pieces for the boar. That comes to seven pieces per person, but I already spent one on the meat, so I’ll just take six,” I explained, then lined up all the pieces on the table and placed each person’s share in front of them.

“Apologies, but I can’t accept that.” The knight pushed his pile of coins back in front of me. “I made such a shameful display of myself. I’ve stained my grandfather’s name.”

“If you say so, but I’m still gonna have you keep that. Messing up is part of the job description. You can make those kinds of calls when you’re the leader.” I pushed the money back by him. He seemed to accept that, albeit reluctantly.

“He’s sayin’ he don’t need it, so why don’t ya just keep it?” asked the kid.

“’Kay, then I’ll take your share of the meat, Shunie,” offered Bel.

“I wasn’t the one who said it!”

The two kids hungrily gobbled down their lunch. I loved seeing that they were full of energy.

“I agree,” chimed in our lady mage. “All I did was give a lecture on the chocho, then run for my life and trip. What in the world was that boar?! It was twice as big as I’d heard they should be. That stupid teacher! I can’t believe I paid him good money, and he didn’t even warn me about something this basic! ’Scuse me, another drink!”

A row of empty ale bottles stood lined up in front of her. Our waitress, a beastmaid, brought her a fresh bottle. I pulled her aside, slipped five copper pieces into her uniform pocket, and whispered, “Water them down after this one, please.” Then, outta nowhere, she kissed me on the cheek. She had lovely golden locks, cat ears, and a tail. Someone kicked my shin.

“Hmm? Hmm?” Who was it? The kid? Putting that aside… “Sooo, ladies and gents. What do each of you plan to do after this?” I asked them.

“Bel and I are gonna go back to our inn and give Lady Gladwein our report about what happened today,” stated the boy.

“I plan to keep drinking,” announced the lady.

“I’d like to stare into space for a bit,” said the knight.

“Oh, no, no. That’s not what I meant. Sorry. I worded that wrong,” I said, revising my question. “I wanted to ask whether the five of us would keep going as a party.” Suddenly, a hush fell over our table, despite all the clamor around us.

“What kinda dumb question is that?” the kid asked me, shocked. “The Pops put us together, you know? Like it or not, we’re stuck with one another—unless someone dies or something.”

“Is that how it works?” You should’ve let me in on this kinda thing earlier, Evetta. “Is Pops that big around here?” I put the question out there. Even more surprise came back. The kid dropped his spoon, the full bottle of beer the lady held slipped out of her hand, and the piece of meat the girl was gnawing on plopped down to her plate. Was Pops that big of a deal?

Lord Knight set it straight for me. “Ask anyone who the ‘king of adventurers’ is, and they’ll name King Remlia. But the only one to be called the ‘father of adventurers’ is Pops, Lord Medîm. He’s in at least three of the most famous adventurer epics, and those are only the ones I know. He’s what you’d call a living legend. And also one of the few people permitted to explore the dungeon alone.”

Sounds pretty badass. Huh? Do you need permission to go in alone?

“Where exactly do you hail from? Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen clothing like yours. You employ unique equipment as well. Everything about you, from your quick wit to your keen judgment, tells me you’re no ordinary lad.”

Unfortunately, I’m just a normal guy with terrible luck.

As I pondered how to start explaining, the knight took out his scroll and said, “Wait, pardon me. I should have offered my own introduction first. This is as good a moment as any.” He unrolled the scroll.

“……” Everyone fell silent.

“Sorry, I can’t read.”

“Me, neither.”

“Same here.”

The kid, the girl, and I all fessed up to our illiteracy. I wondered what percentage of people in this world could read.

“Hmm, looks like three scrolls to me.” I decided to forget this lady clearly drunk off her ass. We were all at a loss, when—

“Yooo, party of tenderfoots who defeated a dungeon boar in your first battle. Pops said good things about you, and he hasn’t said that about anyone in a while. This is on the house.” The mohawked bartender placed large, heaping plates of thick bacon and boiled beans on the table.

“Meat!” cried the boy and girl in unison before attacking the dish. You two are still gonna eat? According to Machina’s calculations, you’ve already had more than twenty thousand calories each.

“Boss, do you think you could read this for us?”

“Sure thing.” I’d asked in the spur of the moment, but he agreed to help us out. He pulled a chair over from a nearby table and sat down. “I, Rasta ole Rhasvah, servant of Lord Windovnickel, hereby agree to read aloud the vitae of these newly inaugurated adventurers. I swear by the name of Thurseauve that I will faithfully recite whatever I see here inscribed. Should I lie, may my tongue be cut off and may I drain a vial of snake poison.”

Having finished that rather heavy oath, the boss picked up our knight’s scroll. “Name: Arvin Forths Gassim. Homeland: Ellusion of the Central Continent. Former knight of the Lillideas Church. Hmm… Gassim…… Are you Gassim the Executioner’s grandson? The famous court execution officer of the Lillideas Church known for sending two hundred people’s heads flying in one day?”

“No, that’s an exaggeration. The real record is two hundred and sixteen people in two days,” the young man revealed unhappily as he picked at his beans.

“I knew it; you are a rotten prince,” said the boy. “I don’t know what you do, but you’ve got an official position in the Central Continent, right? Don’cha just have money flowing in, even if all you do is sleep?”

“I did have a title, though it amounted to no more than a formality. From what I understand, my mother, father, and sister lived their lives without ever knowing hunger.” And yet, he’s now an adventurer. There must be something going on there. “But all that ended when my great-uncle hatched a plan to assassinate the Seventh Pope. Fortunately, the attempt was staved off. My great-uncle, his family, and his close relations were, naturally, all executed. My grandfather’s honor protected my family at least, but I was stripped of my knighthood. My elder sister got off with imprisonment. I will say in defense of my great-uncle’s honor that he was a fine man, but he was tricked by an elven concubine.”

“If he was so fine, how the hell did he get tricked by some sexy el—?”

I shoved some bacon in the boy’s mouth. “Don’t talk about other people’s families so carelessly.” Are you looking to start a fight?

“I became an adventurer to obtain a pardon for my elder sister. You can’t buy a pardon from the Church of St. Lillideas. You have to earn it with either honor or glory; that’s why I’m here.”

The boss cut through the depressing mood by saying, “That won’t be easy. You’ll have to get down past the fortieth floor at the very least. Either that, or hunt down hordes of Dark Crowned monsters. Otherwise, you’d have to find a treasure so precious it’d send shock waves through the country. You’ve got plenty of options, none of them painless. We don’t see many adventurers after nothing but glory nowadays. I’ll bet true adventurers will welcome a young man like yourself and wish you well. If anyone dares laugh at you, I’ll give them a fist in the face with my name on it for you.” He curled his fingers into a ball. One punch from that would easily kill someone like me. Not that I had any room to laugh at other people’s dreams.

The boss unrolled the scroll even farther and read, “Apprentice to Zammonglace, the Scarlet Knight. Certified in swordsmanship, horsemanship, spear fighting, and shield wielding. Mastered St. Lillideas’s first level of healing magic. In good health. Unable to form a party with beastfolk due to the Church of St. Lillideas’s doctrine. Unable to form a party with elves due to familial circumstances.

“Hmm, well, as your senior and more experienced adventurer, allow me, Rasta ole Rhasvah, to give you an evaluation. Arvin Forths Gassim, you will live to be a brilliant vanguard. You will be your party’s shield, their sword, and the key to their success. You bear some challenges regarding race, but these are trivial. If you would like, I can introduce you to some adept adventurers.”

“It’s an honor to receive such gracious words from a member of the Remlia royal family.” Arvin smiled happily.

“Boss, are you a royal?” That surprised me more than anything, so I just had to ask.

“It’s not a big deal. They call us a royal family, but my distinguished cousin went and became king all on his own. I don’t have anything to boast of personally. I’m just someone who wandered all around the world and ended up a bar owner.” He looked seriously annoyed, so I didn’t press any further. The sudden drop in his mood sent Arvin’s smile crashing down into gloom.

“Then I’m even worse. I got tossed in the air by a boar.”

“Don’t let that get to you, son. Dungeon boars are actually pretty tough. You’re meant to learn how to escape from them, not how to defeat them. Now, just between us…” The boss lowered his voice and continued, “King Remlia also got his bum sent flying by a boar, just like you. Not only that, but it also grabbed hold of his cape with its teeth and spun him around first. If Pops hadn’t been there at that moment, our king would’ve been a boar meal. Don’t you dare ever speak of this, or my shop will go under.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Arvin promised, and the boss slapped him on the back.

“Who’s next?” The kid, his mouth full of bacon, handed his scroll over to the boss. “Oh-ho. Pfft, ‘Swine Slayer,’ the young swordsman,” he read and burst out laughing. His infectious chuckle soon had the ladies and me joining in, too.

“See, I knew I’d get some weird nickname!”

“N-no, sorry. But dungeon boars are formidable foes, you know. Then again, you went up against a boar at Lady Gladwein’s trial, too, so maybe it’s destiny, bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Unable to keep a straight face, the boss howled and roared. The boy looked about to snap and foolishly reached his hand for his sword. The boss took a swig of our lady’s ale to clear his throat and started reading the next scroll.

“Name: Shuna. Homeland: the Azollid Archipelago. Primary deity: Ukhazol, King of the Tree Spirits. Disciple of Gladwein the Iron Arm. Uses an unnamed style of swordsmanship.

“Now, Shuna, I’ve heard tell about the way you wield your sword. They say you get down low, then spin as you thrust. None of the warrior lines I can recall use a technique like that. At least, none of the human ones. Your master was beastfolk, right?”

Shuna pounded the table. “……Yeah. But it’s not like I’m trying to hide it ’cause I’m embarrassed or anything. Master told me over and over that I should keep it to myself for my own sake, so I was just following orders. I was totally against it, though! My master protected our island of three hundred people from fifty pirates with one arm—like a real hero! If you’re gonna laugh at that, too, then we’ll have to take this outside.”

Tears welled in the corners of Shuna’s eyes. He must have been through some pretty rough things in his past. Clearly, discrimination against beastfolk affected not only them but the people close to beastfolk, too.

“No, it’s no matter to me. Everybody knows beastfolk can’t start their own warrior lines. It’s no great surprise to find an uncommonly talented swordsman among their midst. I only ask since there are some humans who can’t do so, either. Take, for example, the scum who make their livings as assassins. A long time ago, an adventurer started a party but kept their past a secret from everyone. All of them met unfortunate ends. That line of work sticks with you until you die.”

The boss waved off the dark topic and turned to Arvin. “Tell me, apprentice of Zammonglace, the Scarlet Knight. What do you think about a swordsman who studies under a beastfolk master?”

“I’m jealous, to be honest. My master has been called the Bloody Knight and all sorts of monikers and used to say that to truly master a weapon, you should never limit yourself to only human opponents. I’m not at liberty to defame the teachings of the Lillideas Church, so I can’t join a party with any beastfolk for the moment, but once I’m free, it might be interesting to find a beastfolk teacher.”

“……” Shuna looked down at the ground and blushed. Whoa, this kid can be pretty damn cute. “The reason I wanted to be an adventurer…,” he mumbled, hiding half of his face behind his hand—maybe he was still grinning from ear to ear, “…is because I want to prove how strong I am. But I don’t mean just my own strength. I want to prove to the world how powerful my master is.”

The boss nodded slightly. “As for your evaluation, I’ll have to go with a young, talented swordsman. But don’t get too cocky. All the youngsters are blessed with talent. Only those who hold on to it even after they age make a name for themselves. Though to be fair, I don’t believe any youngsters can compare to you, Swine Slayer—”

“Hey!”

The boss ignored Shuna and unfurled the young girl’s scroll. She fidgeted nervously, the picture of innocence. If only my little sister were this cute. “I-if you would be so kind!” she squeaked.

“Name: Beltriche. Homeland: the Azollid Archipelago. Primary deity: Ukhazol, King of the Tree Spirits. Disciple of Gastolfo, Goddess of Fertility; Giuma, Goddess of Amana; Midras of Shining Waters; Great Turtle Lord Cadran; Leteugan of the Frosty Winds; Yuta, the Optimist; Ryuryuska, the Thunderous… Hey, hang on a second. Exactly how many covenants do you have?” He traced his finger across the scroll. “Fifteen, twenty, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty……thirty-five. Thirty-five! Well. Is that even allowed?” The figures had even the all-knowing boss sweating nervously.

Shuna, still munching away at that bacon, poked at Bel. “Hey, Bel. Thirty-five? Did you pick up some more again?”

“I mean, there are just so many gods in this city, right? A bunch of them asked me to worship them whenever I have a minute. But I turned down all the super controlling ones or the ones that force their commandments on you. Lord Ukhazol does always say, ‘Take what you can.’ It’s sooo hard to say no when they feed me, you know.”

Huh. I see. I see how it is. What the hell did I go through all that trouble for?! I’m right here! Right here, you know?! The guy who got turned down by every single god in town!!

“I don’t even really need to ask, but do you carry the Divine Medium trait? You sure you want to be signing up as an adventurer? You could have a very secure life as a priestess in one of the higher temples. Wake up, eat, sleep. And you realize you’d have your choice of disciples, both men and women, to do with as you pleased, right?” he asked.

“What are you suggesting?! I would never use manipulation to pick the person I love! I’ll choose carefully, let the buds I like keep growing, and nip the others right off!”

“……I never did understand women. Like Shuna, you use a similarly unnamed spear technique and can conjure, unsurprisingly, an extensive variety of magic. It’d be dark by the time I finished reading them all.”

“Yes. It’s a great number of skills. That, at least, I’m proud of. But they’ve overlapped so much that now I can only use one! I made covenants with so many gods that I don’t even know what all the skills do! I’m so sorry, my gods and goddesses! Especially you, Lord Ukhazol!” I guess some people just had what it took to bring all the gods to their yard.

I hallucinated for a second and heard something go, meow.

“As for your evaluation, as an adventurer, you’re a jack-of-all-trades, master of none,” the boss declared. “However, your Divine Medium trait is exceptionally rare. You have limitless potential. Nevertheless, you’ve taken on too many covenants too easily. Show some restraint. I don’t care how understanding he may be, it’s rude to your primary deity.”

“Yes, sir.” She drooped sadly.

“You two.” The boss gestured for Arvin and me to come in close. Just three dudes, huddled up having a little whispered chat. “Listen up. If someone’s got the Divine Medium trait, it means they can let gods with no physical body possess them and deliver prophecies or perform miracles on their behalf. Normally, they’d be kept locked away by a religious order or sect and almost never brought out in public. I’ve been in the adventurer industry for forty years, but I’ve never seen one until today. In other words, she’s not someone who should be walking around all loose and carefree! She’ll be fine staying in Lady Gladwein’s accommodations or when she’s with Shuna. But don’t you two dare let her out of your sight otherwise. She could easily get kidnapped and impressed into becoming a priestess for some dark religion or sorcerers. Do you understand?!”

“Yes, sir,” we answered in unison. The boss put us both in a headlock and forced us to nod.

“?”

Bel looked at us curiously. She seemed just like any other girl on the outside, but I never would’ve guessed she would be so invaluable. I guess it’s really best not to judge people by appearances.

“Me next, if you please,” the mage asked with almost zero enthusiasm. Were her hands shaking because of the alcohol?

“Name: Zenobia. Twenty-four years old. Homeland: Fosstark. Sorry, I’ve never heard of this place.”

“It’s at the southernmost end of the Central Continent, just your regular rural town.”

“Apologies. Belongs to the Church of Flames, disciple of the sect led by Robbe, the Great Pyromancer. Studied magic at the Azure Sky Academy. Forgive me, I haven’t kept up as much as I should. The only magic academies I’ve heard of are the Hoense School and the Jumichla School. Which one does this belong to?”

Zenobia’s expression hardened. She gulped down some ale, then admitted, “It’s a private institution, the Blue Sky Magic Schoolhouse.” No way he could’ve known that.

“Hmm, well, there’s nothing bad on here. You’ve acquired a well-balanced mix of the magic basics. That should serve you well enough up until about the fifteenth level. Daily diligence makes the adventurer. Give it all you’ve got.” A considerably clear-cut explanation. Zenobia did not look happy at all.

“……Huh? Is that all? Yes, I’m normal. I’m just a regular girl. I’m so run-of-the-mill, there’s nothing else to say. But I mean, cut me a break—we’ve got a knight with a heavy burden, a genius boy swordsman, and a Divine Medium priestess here! We’re trending way above average on abnormal! It makes me look pitiful! Ugh?!” She trained her gaze on me. “You’re on my side here, right?” Please don’t look at me so pleadingly.

The boss put his rugged hand on my head. “Zenobia, this man right here came from an alien world, got shut out by every god in town, beat the living daylights out of a group of three corrupt adept adventurers and dragged them through the streets for a whole night, then blew up a warehouse belonging to the trade group that sicced them on him, threatened and forced the merchants into submission, and acquired a feather from one of the Lady Minerva Sister goddesses. Word around town is that he’s backed by a distinguished merman priest. And just for good measure, he’s an oddball who chose someone of a different race to be his counselor.”

“Noooooooooooo! Nobody’s going to remember meee!!”

“They will, they will.” No one could forget that body.

“Does that mean we’ll get a discount if we take you shopping with us?” Bel asked.

“Not sure,” I asked, tilting my head in question. I could see a few of the trade groups blacklisting me.

“O’ course, everything I just told you is based on rumors,” the boss assured. “I’ll bet it’s a bit exaggerated.”

“Then would you do mine, too, please?” I pulled out my scroll and handed it to him. It probably wouldn’t reveal anything worse than what he’d already told them, but I figured it was important to go through the formalities.

“Let’s see, hmm. Hmm?” The boss unrolled the scroll and looked puzzled. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Huh?”

Illiterate as I was in this world, even I could understand the scroll he showed me.

It was blank.