It would take about two day’s travel to reach the Crystal Caves. The roads leading to the mountains were well-used, but steps and small rocks made them ill-suited for horses—so the party ventured on foot.

They sweltered under the hot summer sun, and their kicked-up dust clung to their skin. Constance produced a canteen from her pack and they passed it from person to person, drinking and sucking on ice.

The forest path was so hot and hazy that Rick hallucinated a person; a reaper to rake their souls in this verdant hell.

“Do you see a man in a hood, Pern?”

“Is that some kind of dirty joke?” Pern tilted her head. Rick’s illusion vanished with the lowering sun. It was warm but no longer stifling, and they reached a clearing in the woods.

The dirt here was packed, dry, and flaw—a perfect place to make camp. Rick pointed out this observation and his companions wearily agreed.

“But, I don’t see your man-hood at all.” Constance muttered. “You’ve probably just gone a little mad in the heat. I myself saw the shadow of a kid-sized cat, and there’s nothing in the mountains like that.”

“I’m usually a good observer,” Rick muttered. “I swear it’s somebody.”

Rick was ready to forge into the bushes, and Pern was prepared to follow him. Pern, the S-Rank Adventurer who would willingly and obliviously plunge her companions into an hours-long ordeal if it meant completing a task. Pern, who wasn’t a reaper but was actually a roomie from hell!

“Oh!” Constance clapped. “I have an idea. So, there’s this lake here… we have to make camp anyway… and you all seem completely baked. Why don’t we go for a swim?”

Figures of another kind popped up in Rick’s head, subsuming his reaper. “Hm. Refreshing. Appealing. Energizing. Sure.”

“Swimming…” Pern flushed. While the whole party was sweaty and red, the lady knight seemed especially affected. “T-that’s a waste of time! If we’re not searching, we should just cook our rice and rest.”

“Hardass,” Constance muttered.

“Huh?”

“Hard as it might be to relax, something like swimming might be good for the team.” She cleared her throat. “Aquatic exercise is good training, and it’ll give us a nice morale boost too.”

“Morale… morale.. motivation…” Pern mumbled. “Motivate self… to motivate him… muster resolve, resolve, resolve…!”

“Yes, Pern?” Constance said politely.

“That’s right! If it’s for motivational purposes, I’ll allow it,” Pern said. “In fact, I command it! No lounging on the coastline, Constance—we’re all getting into the water.”

“Eh?”

Making camp took about three hours and swimming took just one. While camping was necessary for survival, and included much that was useful and interesting such as:

1. Fire-starting

2. Water-boiling

3. Rice-cooking

4. Staking a tent

the latter activity involved swimsuits and so took precedence in Rick’s memory. And Pern’s too, though she’d never admit it.

“The women will get dressed on the far side of the lake. The men will change by those trees and we’ll meet right back here. That’s crystal clear right?” Constance spoke.

Rick grunted, and the healer and warrior strolled off. Isaac, the pale, slender, bone-pierced rogue would remain here, and if a Reaper really was after Rick, the A-Rank Adventurer would surely offer some protection.

“Guess it’s just you and me, Zacky boy.”

A bundle of reeds drifted by. A loon gave its curdling call. And Rick was alone on the beach.

“...Could it be?”

Footsteps in the sand led to a trail in the woods. It split into forks; one that wound back the way Rick had seen the Reaper, and the other to his left, around where the others were changing.

“Could it be that Isaac’s also a girl?”

Isaac never spoke, and though his hair was short, his face was narrow and slim. And piercings were more common among women, Rick supposed too. But, if Isaac wasn’t a man… he honestly looked less like a woman, and more like a skeletal undead than.

Rick shrugged, shrugged off his shirt, pulled away his pants, and then put on his lovely anti-elemental boxer shorts. He watched a lake bird bob for small fish, until it too abandoned him.

His eyes drifted east to the sandy path, a path unknown to Constance and Pern. It probably led right to the bay where they were slipping on their swimsuits. It might be possible to watch them as they did so, since there were an abundance of reeds and trees surrounding the lake.

However, this would be both a gross violation of consent and of Regnum’s Penal Code 647i, which would render him culpable for a fine of 200 silver marks. Imagination on the other hand was legal, ethical (probably), and free.

“Ahn! Rick! D-don’t look at me like that…”

“Is that what she’d be like?” Rick muttered.

“ I-I’m an S-Rank Adventurer Rick… not a Rank T and A.”

“Yes, she’d probably be like that… though if I were a King Slime, she’d definitely be a lot less shy…”

“D-did you say that I’d definitely shine~?”

Pern had returned quite quick. As expected of an S-Rank Adventurer, she’d changed with peak efficiency.

She fluttered in a bikini with ninety-nine percent water resistance, a different one than the prototype Rick had picked out at Cure’s. This was a swirl of white and light blue that matched her eyes, and optimized for recreation rather than protection. It covered even less than her armor.

“Those boxers are cute Rick. It reminds me of my grandpa’s.”

Had Pern always been this cheeky? She hadn’t just changed her clothes; she’d changed her attitude too.

“H-how you feeling, Rick? Warm? S-stiff? A little uncomfortable?” Pern licked her lips. She switched her hands to her hips to splayed over her chest to her hips again, and then hunched over, knees shaking.

“Are you ill?”

“Ha! Ha!!! Are you feeling sick, too? Are you feeling the heat, E-Rank Rick?”

***

If Rick heard what was going through her mind, he would’ve heard this: “Zero defense, zero defense! Rick, the Resistance-Skill Adventurer, has no defense at all!

So why do I have no attack?”

In the hours before they left Mazevale, Pern had slipped back into Cure’s shop. She sought the advice of Rick’s ex, since she was sure to know all about Rick’s swimsuit tastes.

“All I did was experiment with him. Why would I know what Rick wants?”

“‘‘Experiment?’ ‘Experiment?’ Was your relationship that strange?” Pern was aghast

Cure had eventually steered her to a blue-and-white bikini saying something about how these “suited Rick the best” during one of her “experiments,” “leaving him thoroughly stunned.” Along with something about “fundamentally misunderstanding the nature of a resistance-testing business relationship.” Pern was so nervous that the words went in one ear and out the other, and all she could bring herself to do was pay.

Pern was proud of her body. She’d put a lot of effort into it, after all. But standing in front of Rick now in this bikini felt weird. Real weird. Like, King Slime weird. To avoid this creeping feeling, Pern began a mental chant.

For the sake of Rick’s motivation, she’d push away all humiliation! She put on her most seductive look, like a duck’s.

“So Rick. You want to say anything to me? About me?”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I have no complaints. Aside from forcing me into the party, you’ve treated me fairly enough.”

“That’s nice. I think.”

Rick was looking at her. Respectfully. In the eyes. Why the eyes? Her chest was down there!!!

“Rick. I j-just wanted to say, that my type of Adventurer. Is the kind that always strives for success. I mean, I’m single you know? I don’t have a lot of time for relationships. But I’m still a woman too. I’m sure, that after this quest, that if there was an Adventurer like that, I’d ffff I’d like to spend time with them.”

“Oh?” Rick said. “Where’s this coming from?”

He glanced once.

“You look good. Top to bottom,” Rick said, and closed his eyes.

“My top and bottom look good!?” Pern clawed at the sand.

What? What? Rick was supposed to blush and look away! He was supposed to stammer and be absolutely smitten! He’d run headlong into the goblin cave in the hopes of getting together with her elite S-Ranked self!

Why wasn’t he reacting? What was she supposed to say?

“Um, Rick…”

Questing was all about clear, blunt communication, while flirting was all about giving out little hints. Pern knew that much! Pern was a level-headed warrior who was never flustered, not in any kind of battle; she’d be sure to seduce this E-Rank beast.

“You have something to say to me, Pern?”

“Tell me about the goblins,” Pern said flatly. “So we can prepare for the cave.”

“If that’s what you wanted, you could’ve just said that from the start. That’s not some secret you have to tease out from me.”

Pern had been defeated. Rick stretched, and the lake was calm and still.

***

“You killed a Sea Serpent? Then of course Amalie would recommend you.

“Congrats! You’re now a C-Rank Adventurer!” the guild receptionist carried on. “And with not only a Thunder Sword, but those defensive skills too, you’ve got a long career ahead of you.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Card nodded. He’d been active for just one year, but he’d already become famous in Andrestia’s north portion.

It was a habit of the populace to give nicknames to guild members that they were fond of, or to Adventurers that they liked to tease. The name they gave to the first place S-Rank Adventurer was “One-Cut Sam,” since he resolved battles with a single slash. To the second S-Rank Adventurer Amalie, they gave the nickname “Paper Mage,” since she was never seen without a tower of books.

The most brutal nickname was that of Bernie ‘The Line” Arienette, an E-Rank at the bottom of the chart. She was called such because if an Adventurer was worse than her, they’d probably be kicked out of the Guild.

Card’s own title was the “Questless Adventurer.” Rather than take quests, he relied on higher-ranked Adventurers to promote and recommend him.

“Why don’t you go on one?” said Riona the smith, as she made repairs to his sword. “Come, it’s been a year. Go save a cat, or on a hero’s journey, or do some trite and clichéd task like that.”

“I don’t know, I’m just not confident.” Card sipped his bar-ordered drink. “It just doesn’t feel like I can rely on these hands.”

“Card! There’s an easy way to make you more confident, if you want it.” Riona leaned down and whispered in his ear. As the whispering intensified, his face became more fiery red than a blacksmith’s heat-glowing forge.

Whatever she said seemed to have the opposite effect on the boy. Card fumbled with his cup, and the warmed milk he had kept inside spilled all across the soil. “Ah!”

“Hm. That was premature,” Riona said. “I should reward you with “that” only after you do one. But only if you want that—if I’m crass I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m not sure what I want. Honestly, just talking with you is enough.”

“Confidence, Card! Confidence!”

On his next summer evening he found himself hidden amidst tall grass, sizing up a campground surrounded by pointed logs. Building silhouettes tall and small specked the ramshackle settlement as smoke streamed from circle to sky.

Whether it had been confidence, Riona’s promise, or his own initiative, Card had launched his first quest.

“Gob slaying…”

“Go get ‘em champ!” The girl-elf-blacksmith mouthed beside and gave a big thumbs up. They knelt together in the foliage.

“...Don’t act like you’re not a part of this.”

The Guild had a special safety rule. All quests Rank C or above had to be taken with at least one other Adventurer.

So Card had taken Riona with him, but she might not have been the best choice for a partner. Explicitly promising love and promising explicit love as bonus rewards were prohibited under Guild law, and Riona had done both.

“Right now, I’m a proud senior cheering her mentee, and later I’ll be a lovely maiden awaiting you at the inn. I’ll have all the best “parts” of the quest so long you properly clear it.

Card snorted.

“Just remember. What clearing this quest properly looks like might not be how you imagine it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Riona had already slipped away, though she had left a sweet-smelling handkerchief as a gift. Her adventuring outfit didn’t seem to have any pockets, but it must have had one secretly stitched in, as there was nowhere else she could have stored it.

Card’s own equipment was minimal. He had brought his Thunder Sword, a leather buckler, and that was all. He hadn’t even brought any water: Southfield Town was quite close by, and a canteen would have just weighed him down.

“Ha…”

He sighed, and wiped his face with Riona’s cloth.

Goblins were nothing compared to sea serpents. Card could eat goblins for breakfast, and sea serpents could eat goblins literally.

But he killed the sea serpent only after he’d first engineered a plan to electrify the lake. He’d also plotted an escape route, and wouldn’t have made the fight known to the Guild if he had been forced to flee. With these goblins he couldn’t escape failure even if he survived.

Creak…

Two goblins carted some supplies through the entrance. The gates ground open, and the settlement was exposed. Card waited in the grass.

Four more goblins mobbed the cart, unloaded the bulky crates and pushed them inside. A cloaked boy could easily get lost in the hustle and bustle of the delivery.

Card continued to wait.

The first two goblins bid the others farewell, and departed in an empty cart. They sang a goblin ditty in raspy voices, loud calls that could be used to drown out a man’s footsteps and provide an excellent distraction.

Card waited., and the gates ground shut.

“Dammit!” Card clenched the handkerchief. “Move, Card, move!”

“If he didn’t start a task, he could never fail it”—Card knew he had to fight that insipid thought. If he abandoned this quest at the starting line, it would actually be a horrible failure no matter how he tried to justify his feelings.

Card could kill the goblins. Card could sneak into the village. He was a skilled Adventurer, and Riona believed in him too. Courage! Courage! Don’t get lost in your own head! Card stepped into the open field, and was spotted by goblins immediately.

“Tch.”

“Knight!” War!” cried the gobs. “Death! Killings!"

“That’s right!” Card called. “I’ll kill you all! Thunder!!!”

He crackled open the gate with an enormous bolt, then charged into camp.

Bells clanged, goblins shouted, more Thunder streaming from his blade and fingertips. Spooked horses galloped and canted, and though Card’s mind was blurred he still had the presence to wonder at how the goblins knew how to ride them.

“But you still won’t get away.” He grabbed the reins of a running mare and twisted it so it ran towards the gate.

“Mercy!” “Kindness!” “No harm!” “Arumph!”

The escapees’ horses tangled with the mare, and a clutch of goblins were flung onto the ground.

Card followed-up with another five bolts, and he was careful to adjust their voltage into shocks just barely enough to sear through their skin. Not because he had any mercy towards the goblins, but because the amount of electricity that surged through the Thunder Sword was causing it to overheat.

“Crap!”

The goblins’ sheer numbers were starting to present big problems. He took down one, two, three—nine, twelve, fifteen—thirty, ninety, one hundred twenty-five—and still there were more. Welts formed where he touched his scalding blade’s hilt.

Card adjusted his strategy further. If he knocked out all the goblins with even smaller shocks, his sword would have time to cool. And after the village was littered with unconscious gobs, he’d slit all their scaly throats.

That was easier said than done. He whipped an arc of lightning at a goblin warrior, and the gob recoiled but didn’t drop dead down—and didn’t drop its axe either. Card punched the warrior away before it could hit him, but another monster ambushed him from behind.

As he fell in a tumble of limbs, his feet flew up and he kicked the goblin rogue into the wall of a hut. He sparked it, and as it staggered up, he finished it off with a hilt bash, then thrust away two unarmed goblins that were trying to grab his shoulders.

This strategy’s hopeless, Card thought. These charges are far too weak.

But he soon noticed something strange.

Card stopped. “Most of them aren’t fighting…?”

There were the warriors who attacked him, true. But most of the goblins were just running around in panicky circles or hiding in their homes.

“Are they waiting for a boss monster to spawn?”

He caught the reins of a running horse, mounted it, unseated its rider and raced it to the center of the camp. A old goblin sat alone on a mat, encircled by tall wooden torches.

Card panted, sweat soaking his chest—but he was completely unblemished by blood. The camp was also relatively clean. While Card had shocked foes, he hadn’t cut them.

“Sit,” said the Boss Goblin, patting the mat. “Sit.”

“You goblins are just like parrots. You repeat the same old set of words. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over…”

“Sit down, young man.”

The goblin’s neck was unguarded.

Based on its wizened figure and ornate clothes, this goblin was almost certainly the Chief. If Card slew this gob, his quest would be over, and he could return to Riona and express to her just how frustrating this all was.

“He swept forward on his stolen horse, cutting its old green head away.” He imagined himself doing something like that.

But…

Card dismounted. Finish the quest properly, that’s what Riona said.

“You’re got more brains than what I expected, old gob.”

“Humans come in many forms. Those in the Regnum Kingdom are different from the ParPar Barbarians, who are different from the Sun-kissed Empire.

And even among those in the same Kingdom… there are those crave blood, and those

reasonable men who let their blood come down and think.” The Goblin Chieftain smiled at Card. “Why should us monsters be any different?”

Its wrinkled form twitched and Card instinctively blocked. But the old gob wasn’t attacking; he simply meant to pour whiskey. It shared its cup.

“Drink.”

“You first.”

The Goblin Chief drank half. It neither died nor frothed at the mouth; it just smiled, with cracked yellow teeth.

Card sighed and drank the rest. The whiskey burned his throat, but in the end it warmed him—and though he was with a stranger it felt as if he were amongst old friends.

“The elmens that terrorize town. They scuttle, gurgle, and hum. They don’t speak, they simply strike and kill,” Card said.

“Those creatures lack advanced organs. Complex, organized, mobs like us have the ability to learn.”

Like all Adventurers, Card knew about the respawn process. Monsters regenerated after they died, having the memory of most things except for the day they were killed. Most of the time, they used knowledge acquired in a certain lifespan to better attack humans in the next one.

Card supposed that a peaceful, rapidly-respawning monster race could learn human language, and perhaps even create some kind of culture instead. Even still…

“Though it doesn’t feel right to despawn you, I can’t back down so easily. You’ve stolen people’s crops, not to mention killed their livestock, and if I kill you, you’ll revive in around five years anyway…”

“Goblins also come in many forms. These may have been the deeds of some rogues among us, so please lend us some time to conduct an inquiry, o wise Adventurer.”

There’s a fine line between wisdom and crock. Card wasn’t sure if the Goblin Chief had crossed it, but he didn’t care.

“I’ve got a girl waiting for me back home. I can’t fail here.”

“A family you must provide for?”

“Something like that.” Card’s face tinted red from the sparkwater. “And this quest calls for the removal of goblins from the Southwind Plains...”

He picked the Thunder Sword, turned it, pointed at the goblin and then at the rolling landscape beyond.

“There’s some good grazing grounds a couple miles thataways. No one goes there because they fear the volcano that looms over it, but if a mother dragon thinks it’s safe enough to nest in the crater, it won’t erupt for a long time.

“Pack up, move there, don’t come back. If you ignore me, the other Adventurers won’t spare you and your camp.”

The Goblin Chief clawed up dirt, and let it run through his fingers.

“See how the soil is powdery and dry? The loam of the Southwind Plains knows no equal… yet you ask us to abandon not just our land but our crops on a whim?”

“Volcanic ash has those same powdery traits,” Card said. “Send one of your horseback goblins over there and he can return with the soil; then you can make your own judgment.”

“Very well, Thunder Sword.” The Chief whistled, and his Clanmates peered from their homes. A stern gob emerged, hopped on Card’s horse, and galloped off.

“Just swear you won’t try and return. It’d be trouble for me if you did,” Card said.

“The South Goblins will remain away from the Southwind Plains,” The Goblin Chief nodded, and poured him another whiskey. “A toast to the wise Adventurer!”

The monsters gathered the tents, took down the poles, and packed the less permanent structures into their carts. Evidently they trusted his word, even if the Chief felt it his duty to question it.

All Card had in return was the gobs’ own oath. Perhaps this was a ruse. Perhaps they would come back, because they had not been killed. He approached one of the buildings, “tore it apart,” and helped the goblins place the deconstruction onto the cart.

“A sword’s forged in sweat, blood, and fire, but friendship’s all about sweat and alcohol, huh?”

Card returned, whistling, to the Inn. As for what happened there…

***

“The goblins have two major tribes. The South Goblins are brutal nomads. They worship a blood Goddess named “Gardalria,” who demands war and constant sacrifice, and they respawn about every six months. But even then, I wouldn’t call them savages… those goblins share a pantheon with the Kitsune Clan. They simply worship different deities.

However, it’s very likely we’re dealing with goblins from the North. Those goblins are extremely civilized, and are well-known for their hospitality as long as you respect their territory. They live near a volcano in…”

Rick rubbed his temples; he opened his mouth but uttered nothing.

“Ah, my memory’s no good.” Rick said. “It feels like I’m pulling up rotten water from a well.”

“Then it’s nice that you’re surrounded by pure clean pretty things, like that lake,” Pern said. “A-a-a-a-a-and other things, l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l—”

“Like you?”

“Eep!”

“What’s going on Pern? Have you never gone swimming before? Is that it?”

“Y-You’re the one whose inexperienced! I can point out a thousand yous who’ve never swam!”

Pern gestured towards a lower part of Rick’s trunks, by a bulge. Rick’s own expression was flat.

“I meant that you’re never swam with a girl… I mean, I meant that you’ve never spent a wet and wild time… I meant, that you’re easily manipulable E-Rank virgin dweeb!”

“Sure..”

Pern clapped her hand over her mouth. That wasn’t what she meant at all, but her feelings and thoughts had overflowed and intermixed until they’d burst into one mixed-up stream.

“You want to do it then? Is that it?” Rick scoffed..

“Well… maybe if you do well on this quest… I mean, an S-Rank mentor… they’re supposed to guide everything, right?”

“Then let’s do it right now.”

A Thunder Sword will overheat after suffering too many shocks. That same rule applied to Pern.

Shock one: when Pern wore her blue and white swirl bikini, she felt really, really strange.

Shock two: despite Pern’s S-Rank level seduction, Rick was completely not having it.

Shock three: Rick was… probably not a virgin.

Pern dove into the water.