Continue On, Struggler. | Chapter 12, The Guild. (Part One of Three)

…

Guts didn't know if he should be surprised or not that—when he and Eris started to spar in full—the girl's feelings towards him didn't improve. If anything, they got worse.

The first session was planned for the day after their duel. They didn't even make it past her bedroom door. The girl refused to leave her room, despite the begging and pleading of the servants. Forcing Ghislaine to drag the brat out herself. Not physically, but the girl kicked and screamed as if she had been. In the end, her petty insults led to the beastfolk woman threatening resignation. That got Ghislaine her way.

Eris came to the session, but that had been the only positive to come from it. She glared and refused to say a word to him the whole time, even when he attempted to give advice. A fact that only got more and more frustrating when he learned that she wasn't opposed to listening. If Ghislaine said it, she listened. If he said anything, it went in one ear and out the other. For example, multiple times over, she tried to break through his defenses with the same rush from their duel. She failed each and every time. Up until the point he flat out told her to get a grip—to reel in her anger towards him. It made her easy to read. Predictable. She spent so much time and energy snarling at him, that she wasn't actually thinking about other ways to approach him. With every attempt to crush him, she made the same mistake. Over and over again. It was only when Ghislaine stepped in near the end and told her the same exact thing, where she tried a different approach. Not that it helped her any, but it was more than nothing.

Since then, a week passed. Little improved. Not that Guts minded. His past life had gotten him used to being loathed; and, annoying as it was, he didn't need her to like him to do his job.

Fortunately, in contrast to his main charge, Ghislaine proved easy to work with. Both as a teacher and as his student. In that same week, she had already pointed out more flaws in his swordsmanship than Paul did in ten years. Most small, others so glaringly obvious that it made him dislike his old teacher just a bit more. And, unlike Paul, Ghislaine knew how to walk Guts through fixing them. Always straightforward and serious. An attitude she carried over to her learning how to read and write. They were very much in the early stages of that. For now, he was having her memorize the human alphabet, both in shape and in sound. Just as Roxy did with him back when he first started learning. Safe to say, Ghislaine wasn't very good, but she tried and took instruction well. So, he figured it was only a matter of time before she got decent at it.

Guts found it funny—or maybe he would've found it funny, if he wasn't stuck right in the middle of it.

Of the two, the human girl seemed much more like a wild animal.

…

Guts had always been a light sleeper—long before the brand had made it impossible for him to sleep.

"Rudeus?"

His current life afforded him more peace, but he still retained his sleeping habits. So, his eyes shot open the moment he heard someone knock on his bedroom door.

Guts, still somewhat lost in the haze of sleep, felt heavy. He groaned and turned his head towards the window to gauge the time. Orange light slipped in through it, pointing to it still being early in the morning.

"Rudeus?" The voice called out to him again, accompanied by another knock. This time, he was awake enough to recognize that it belonged to Ghislaine. "Rudeus, wake up."

"I'm up," Guts called back, sitting up and facing the door. "What do you want?"

"Then get dressed," the beastfolk woman told him. "We're going out into the city. I want to be done before Eris's lessons, so hurry up. Bring your sword. The real one. You'll need it."

Guts raised a brow at that last past, but he shrugged it off and pulled himself out of bed. "You gonna tell me why?"

"No. Meet me at the front gate when you're ready. I'll explain on the way."

Guts rolled his eyes. This better be interesting.

…

As it turned out, it was interesting.

"Over there," Ghislaine said, stopping and pointing out their destination. A big building. Nowhere near the size of Greyrat Manor, but it loomed over the other buildings around it all the same. It cut an impressive figure. Being made mostly of stone, gray brick. And spanned the area of four or five buildings combined. With a front courtyard to match. A necessity, considering the crowd that surrounded it. Already, despite the early morning, a familiar energy filled the air. A mercantile sort of excitement that seeped into the very air around them. Reminding him of his time in The Band of the Hawk. "That's the main Adventurer's Guild building."

Guts hummed and nodded. "They all like this one?"

"No," Ghislaine said, frowning. "The others are smaller. Less crowded, at the very least. This one's just the closest."

Now, Guts was frowning too.

True to her word, on the way over, she had explained their reason for coming here. She seemed to dislike it as much as he did.

In short, they were here to get him registered as an adventurer—a mandatory step if he wanted to take quests and actually reap any of the benefits. Like pay and rank, the only two things that actually mattered to him. So, as tedious and unnecessary as he found the whole process, he figured that—if he was putting life on the line—he should at least get something out of it.

For her part, when he voiced that opinion to her, Ghislaine didn't hesitate in agreeing. She found the whole process just as irritating. Maybe even more so, considering the face she made when she did so. Although, to him, her support was just a subtle way of telling him that he had no room to complain. He wanted to be an adventurer. To be one, he had to do this. End of story.

…

Guts and Ghislaine walked in, meeting murmurs and whispers as soon as they did. The reason being…

"Hold on, the woman over there—the one that just walked in—isn't she…? Y'know…?"

"No way… I think that really is her! She's got the eyepatch, the sword, the everything!"

"A Sword-King in the flesh…. Wow. Wonder what brings her? She's supposed to be the Lord Sauros's bodyguard now, right?"

"Use your freaking eyes, dumbass! It's probably got something to do with that kid next to her."

…painfully obvious. Not that it bothered either of them.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Before they left, Ghislaine had warned him of something like this happening, even going as far as suggesting that he go in on his own. To avoid any extra attention. A given, if she joined him, considering her status as body guard of the most powerful man in the region. And one of the few people in the world who could rightfully name herself a Sword-King. Naturally, anyone seen with her would draw attention and ire. Guts couldn't give less of a shit, so he shrugged off her concern.

His old life taught him this lesson and taught him it well—the stronger the person, the more attention they brought unto themselves. A person might not want it, try to deny it, but in the end, there was no escaping it. The more success Guts found as an adventurer, the more eyes he'd draw to him. More eyes meant more questions. Eventually, someone would ask why he lived in Greyrat Manor. Knowing all that, what point was there in tiptoeing around how they knew one another? None. And that's why he and Ghislaine came into the Guild together.

"You think that's her kid or something?"

"Her kid? Don't be ridiculous, sis. You know how long it takes to make a kid? You think there's a man out there capable of tying her down that long?"

"I don't think it's that ridiculous…. He acts that part, doesn't he?"

"…True. They don't look anything alike, though."

"…A student of hers or something?"

The gossip didn't seem to bother Ghislaine. Granted, given how strong she was, she was probably used to it all by now.

…

Guts—over the course of his two lives—had only ever stepped foot in two ballrooms. For whatever reason, it's the first thing that came to mind when he laid eyes on the lobby.

Spacious. Sky-high ceiling. Filled to the brim with people who filled it with chatter, more akin to noise than anything actually understandable. The people themselves seemed of decent stock. Ballrooms were meant for nobles, to celebrate all the shit stuffy nobles did. In theory, this room was meant for adventurers. For people like him.

Already, Guts got the sense that he was right to think that.

In his experience, nobles detested variety. They loved acting the same, talking the same, and looking the same. If somebody didn't fit their mold? They cast them out.

All these people around him right now? Varied in every way. In size, shape, and color. Some abnormally tall, others as tall as him—despite being visibly older. Many human. A few beast and demon folk. The only similarity being all the armor, robes, and weapons. It felt more like a tavern than a place for doing official business. Light, rowdy, and open. The opposite of the stuffy, high-strung, and exclusionary world of nobles—something he preferred greatly.

"Hey, Rudeus," Ghislaine called to him. He glanced up, towards her, and found her with a finger pointed towards a desk that seemed to span the whole room's length. It had five women manning it, all dressed in the same uniform that showed off their boobs. A sizable line fromed in front of it. Made up of ten to fifteen people. "That sign over there, the one above the desk. It says: 'Re… gis…. Re…gis…. Regis—?"

"—Registration," he finished for her.

"'Registration'?" she repeated. She returned her eyes to the sign and narrowed her eyes. She spoke next slowly, carefully, "Re-gis-tra-tion?" Guts hummed, approving. Ghislaine smiled, folded her arms over her chest, and nodded. Proud of herself. "That's the line we need to wait in."

Guts nodded, took in the length of the line, and sighed.

This was going to be boring as shit, he could already tell.

…

The wait went just as Guts expected. Boring as shit. From what he could tell, Ghislaine thought the same.

Halfway to the desk, the mutual impatience became apparent. Neither of them were the type to stand around and do nothing—an issue exacerbated by the silence they naturally fell into. It made him antsy. His mind immediately jumped to all of the other things they could be doing. Training, mostly. Coupled with the activity of everyone within earshot, it became harder and harder to placate himself.

Eventually, Guts and Ghislaine made it to the front of the line. One of the workers called for the next person in line. They beelined over, both ready to be done with this place. All without a word between them.

"Miss Ghislaine!" The worker—a pretty enough blonde lady with green eyes—recognized his teacher and gasped. "It's nice to see you again." Her gaze fell down to him. "Oh, and who might this cute little guy be?"

Guts glanced up at Ghislaine, as if to ask if she knew the worker. She shrugged, meaning that she was famous enough to be known by everyone. Even complete strangers.

"This is Rudeus," Ghislaine said, pointing down at him with her thumb. "He wants to be an adventurer."

"Really? If that's the case then…" The worker reached into her desk. After some rustling, she pulled out a piece of paper and a thumb-sized stick of charcoal. "…He'll need to fill out this form. I can't read it out to you if necessary."

She handed it to him. He gave it a look-over, fairly simple from what he could tell. There were two parts to it: the top half was meant for personal information, and a bottom half with some information about the Guild.

"All that on the bottom…" All the while, he did his best to ignore Ghislaine peering over his shoulder. "What's it say?"

"Just some stuff about the Guild: perks, rules, and stuff," Guts summarized, not paying them much mind.

"Oh, those. I know those." Still feeling her presence over his shoulder, he glanced up and found her own eyes narrowed. "Cuh-oh-duh…? 'Code'?"

You're practicing now? Talk about a diligent student.

Guts turned back to the worker, holding the paper out for Ghislaine to continue reading. He asked the worker for another copy. She asked if he knew anyone that also wanted to register.

Guts shook his head. "I'm teaching the Sword King here to read. I figured it'd be good practice."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

The worker apologized, waving her hands in a panic. She brought out another form and handed it to him.

"Here you go, sir," she said. "You can keep it if you'd like."

"Here." Guts gave it to Ghislaine, who had already leaned away to give him space. "Read through this. Tell me if any words confuse you."

Ghislaine took it and nodded, dutifully.

A part of him wanted to be taken aback—a part of him knew that he should—but she had played the part of the willing student so much now that he had gotten used to it. Despite everything about her implying otherwise, Ghislaine seemed the kind to dole out respect wholeheartedly. Even to him. A literal child.

Guts still didn't know what to do with that fact.

…

Name: Rudeus Greyrat.

Gender: Male.

Race: Human.

Age: 10.

Job: Swordsman.

Rank: F.

Party: None.

…

Guts stared at the thin silver card in his hand.

"…the best part is that the card will update itself if any of your information changes!" He did his best to pay attention to the worker's explanation. Right now, she was explaining how his information got onto the card in the first place, considering all he did was touch the thing. "The card contains a small charge of magic energy that should last a year, but since adventurers are required to present their cards after each quest they complete, the Guild takes the liberty of recharging it then. So, you don't have to worry about it running out."

Guts hummed and pocketed the card. "And if I lose it?"

"Just head to any Guild building and they'll give you a replacement for a small fee."

"And quests? I raise my rank by completing those, right?"

"Exactly! Would you like me to go over to the specifics?" Guts nodded. "It's quite simple. Right now, you're F-rank, meaning that you can only accept 'E' or 'F' rank quests. Finish ten F-rank quests or five E-rank quests consecutively, and you'll be promoted. However, keep in mind that, as you rank up, the number of quests will rise as well."

"It possible to lose your rank?"

"Only under certain circumstances. Fail five consecutive quests lower than your current rank, the Guild will be forced to demote you. The same applies if you fail ten consecutive quests equal to your current rank. However, if the quests you fail are ranked higher, you will simply be barred from taking them until your next promotion."

Guts nodded, satisfied. All the hoops he had to jump through aside, being an adventurer seemed a pretty cut and dry business. Familiar even. In that, it felt a bit like merc work. Get up, go to where all the prick rich folk were hiring, sign up for a job, and risk dying to complete it. Simple.

"Did you have any more questions?" the worker asked.

Guts shook his head.

"You're all set then," she said, bowing her head. "As of this moment on, you're an official member of the Adventurer's Guild. We look forward to working with you."

…

"You done?" Ghislaine asked as he approached.

At some point, the beastfolk woman had decided that she wanted to wait for him by the entrance. To read her copy of the registration form in peace, he assumed.

Guts nodded. "How far did you get with your practice?"

"About half, I think."

"You think?"

Ghislaine nodded with all the gusto of a proud child, completely misreading his intent. "I think I got a few of the words wrong, though."

Guts pressed his lips into a straight line. "Finish it by the end of the day."

"Understood, teacher."

"Anyways, where do I pick up a quest?"

…

Chapter End.

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A/N: Another post finished. Again, slower than what I wanted. Unfortunately, I'm going into the final stretch of my final college semester, so I don't think another chapter will be up until early or mid-May. Sorry in advance.