CHAPTER 139
MAKING A NAME FOR HIMSELF
"You're my person." The words felt awkward, especially emerging from Hans's youthful voice. However, they ignited a spark of confidence within Vanir. Lifting his head, he noticed the curious glances of those around him, a far cry from the sceptical stares he'd endured during his fraud charges at the mage tower. His gaze returned to Hans, who exuded unwavering confidence, his fearless stride radiating authority.
"When will I become like him?" Vanir pondered, almost as if Hans had tapped into his inner thoughts. Hans responded, his voice firm and resolute, "Strength changes everything. You can scheme, plan, or cheat, but when faced with overwhelming strength, all you can do is yield. You inquired about my father, didn't you? He belonged to the latter category, and I intend to follow in his footsteps. So, Vanir, please, don't make a mockery of me."
"Yes, sir," Vanir replied promptly, falling in step with Hans. As they marched together, the verdant cocoon of vines snapped and unravelled, revealing the scaled body of a Class Three beast—the Great Mamba. The onlookers couldn't contain their reactions.
"Are they serious?"
"A second-year taking down that?"
"I heard they were having a hunting class today."
"But it's just the second year. Weren't we sent to the first star region back in our time?"
"Yeah, and there are no instructors or professors around!"
.
.
.
More spectators gathered, but Hans and Vanir paid them no heed, striding forward with heads held high. However, something nagged at Vanir, prompting him to ask,, “I get your point senior, but why do you have to do this?” He took a quick glance at others while asking, and Hans answered, emphasising, “Cause, It's my trophy after all.”
"But shouldn't you be keeping a low profile? I mean, considering your background... You'll be the talk of the whole midlands now," Vanir remarked.
"It's intentional, Junior," Hans replied cryptically.
"Why?" Vanir inquired further, but Hans brushed him off, knowing that he wouldn't understand. Vanir eventually gave up. The SpaceDoor and Task Hall weren't too far away, but during that brief journey, Hans managed to capture the attention of nearly everyone. He pretended not to notice, but his eyes scanned the onlookers. "With this, Professor Walter won't have any trouble recommending me," Hans mused to himself.
Upon reaching the Task Hall, the person who had requested the Great Mamba's capture was summoned to inspect the goods. He arrived hurriedly, revealing that he had been eagerly awaiting its arrival. The requester turned out to be an alchemist, which surprised Hans because elves typically didn't involve themselves in alchemy. Hans was about to voice his thoughts on the matter when the elf alchemist unexpectedly began jumping for joy. “What kinda freak is he? —” Hans was contemplating but then the alchemist held his hand together, clasping them he said, “Thank you, dear student, you saved my rear.”
“That's 700 credits for you, sir.” Hans took a step back, he was facing one over friendly elf holding his hands
"Of course, of course," the elf replied as he tore a page from a booklet and jotted something down. He then handed the paper to Hans. "Show this to the Task Hall receptionist, and they will update your account." Hans accepted the paper, thinking, "This is convenient," and handed it to Vanir, instructing him to handle the transaction. Meanwhile, he engaged in conversation with the elf alchemist, learning that the elf was merely an apprentice who had recently botched a thousand poison sacs of Great Mamba in their labs and was now given a week to rectify his mistake.
As they continued chatting, Vanir returned with a receipt. "It's done, senior. So, what's next?" Vanir inquired, eyeing the various tasks posted on the wall. This newfound enthusiasm surprised Hans, prompting him to chuckle. "That's a nice development, he was crying to leave before and now he wants to go for another run.” But Vanir was acting up because he had noticed his classmates, who had looked down on him all the time, but now gazing at him in awe. However, Hans quickly dampened his spirits, saying, " “Go rest, I have to go and make a deal with another snake.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Startled, Vanir asked, "Who?"
"Who else? Our dear Professor Walter."
"Fine, but you're taking me on the next hunt, right?"
"Yes, go ahead and boast about it to your friends," Hans replied with a dismissive wave. As Vanir turned to leave, the persistent elf alchemist piped up, asking Hans about his plans. Hans, not quite understanding the question, inquired, "What do you mean?"
The elf alchemist clarified, "I mean, what are you going to do with your 700 credits? That's my entire savings for the term." He pointed at the receipt in Hans's hand and added, "That's an impressive sum of money."
Hans recalculated the numbers and nodded in agreement. "Yes, it is. But I need to pay a fine—"
“Oh, so you were the one who almost killed —”
“No, things just went out of my hands, that's all.”
"Yes, yes," the elf nodded, offering some advice. "Let me enlighten you. They've given you a year, but once you earn enough to pay the fine, your access to the Task Hall will be suspended. Only fourth-year students and higher can take on tasks."
Hans was puzzled. "What are you getting at—"
The elf sighed in exasperation. "For a supposedly smart guy, you can act a little dense. I'm suggesting that when you're close to paying off the fine, select a task that yields a higher credit reward. That way, after settling the fine, you'll still have a substantial sum left. Understand?"
“Ah, I get it now, thanks a lot, you are a nice person.” Hans commented showing his genuine smile but the elf denied it in haste, “Nice my foot, I’m telling you because you saved me from expulsion, My funds didn’t have the power to hire a full squad of fourth years, 700 credits are not worth the risks, that's why this task remained on the board for days. You saved my skin so I’m telling you to make the best of your situation”
"Understood, any other advice, Sir Alchemist?" Hans inquired, his eyes scanning the task board.
The alchemist pointed to another section. "See there," he indicated, "that's the Redemption Board. You can obtain various items through credits, like a trade store." Hans quickly absorbed the information, but before he could fully process it, the elf alchemist interjected. "You're a second-year, right?" the elf asked. Hans nodded in confirmation, prompting the elf to continue, "Then consider learning how to create a Golem and investing in mana stones if you have some spare credits. Second and third-years usually don't have access to Golem crafting since it's not taught until the fourth year. This will put you ahead of your class, and having a Golem will be advantageous in the Glory Wars as well."
Hans genuinely thanked the elf alchemist, appreciating the valuable advice. "A Golem, hmm... That's something I can work on during my suspension. Let's earn that fine quickly and put this behind us... Oh, wait!.. I need to have a conversation with Professor Walter first."
As Hans made his way to the Administration, heading for Walter's office, news of his feat spread like wildfire in the summertime. A second-year student had successfully hunted a Class Three creature—an achievement that was undoubtedly good news, as such talents were bound to bring honour in the upcoming Glory Wars. However, it also ignited a spark of envy among some. The impact of this event varied greatly, even affecting those close to Hans.
Rudolf, who had trained Hans, couldn't shake his deep concern. He knew that one misstep in a BeastZone could have resulted in permanent harm, despite the summoning token's protections. He almost forgot that he was the one who had guided Hans, and he couldn't help but worry like a parent fretting for their child. On the other hand, Sierra was preoccupied with plotting various ways to grill Walter for allowing the situation to occur.
Throughout the Midlands, the talk of the town was now about Hans and the Great Mamba. This accomplishment exceeded Walter's expectations. "Well done, farm boy," he praised aloud as Hans entered his office.
"Sir, I did just slay a Class Three. Shouldn't you upgrade my title a bit?" Hans inquired.
Walter contemplated for a moment before responding, "How about 'Snake Catcher'—"
"Let's stick with what you're already calling me."
"Very well," Walter agreed with a nod, chuckling. "After all, it's a farmer's job to catch snakes in his field."
"Not the point, but—"
"Yes, that seeded position. No one in their right mind would argue after the spectacle you put on," Walter responded, his elation evident as he relished Hans's achievement. He contemplated for a moment before a wicked smile crept across his face. "Let's stir the pot even more. I have the perfect idea in mind." He pressed a button, and his communication orb illuminated. "Well, if it isn't our senile geezer," Walter greeted the voice on the other end.
The voice responded with a hint of annoyance, "What do you want, Walter?"
"Nothing much, just cashing in a favour."
"Darn spider's ass, I should never have asked for your help back then. How many times are you going to remind me of that?"
"Hey, it's only the 24th time. I still have several more left in my account." With a snicker, Walter grinned broadly and said, "Let's organize a special lecture on dissection for all our junior-year students."
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