Taking down a king would not be a trivial task. There were centuries of precious artifacts hoarded by the royal family, extensive wards, formations, powerful guards, and decoys to deal with, for starters.

Furthermore, even after I did successfully assassinate him, I would have really committed an incredibly high-profile and major crime. I could try all I wanted to clear my name of the accusation of killing the princess and it wouldn't matter if I had regicide on my plate.

Well, I had already killed a few soldiers while resisting arrest but that sort of thing was easier to gloze over in a political power struggle.

Fortunately, there was an effective, low-effort way to get this done that would produce a very clear culprit.

Maybe my good friend who had started all this by getting me arrested could help clear it up?

I sent Johan a telepathic message.

"In exactly two months, I will send your true name to King Anthony IV of Ironland, and him alone. I think he'd take a great interest in the Temple of Light's hero, right?"

A king, with a kingdom's worth of supplies and mages, could order some impressive spells cast, if he were so inclined to spend the resources. With those capabilities and the true name of their target, they could potentially enslave someone in body and soul.

If Johan didn't want that to happen, the easiest solution was to either kill me or kill the king. His odds of catching me within two months were fairly low, and the odds of him being able to find my contingencies were even lower.

Of course, fortunately for him, his original name wasn't actually 'Johan' or the light priestess would've gotten him a lot better than she did.

But I knew what it was. And he knew mine as well. It had turned into a sort of mutually assured destruction pact.

However, this condition was within his limits. He'd rather go find a way to murder a bunch of well-protected people than have us both go down together.

Besides, I had given him plenty of time. Since he was free enough to be messing around, he should also have some time to spare for cleaning up his own damn mess. Fucking bastard.

It's better not to dwell on evil pieces of shit, so I thought I'd spend the next while taking a research trip.

I had teleported near a city on the outskirts of a small, neutral country on the border of Elven territory. Elves practiced a unique sort of magic not well understood by humans.

I was interested in it, but attempting to teleport there directly would be considered unwise.

So, here I was, far away from both the Temple of Light clergy and the Iron Kingdom armies.

It was rather relaxing.

First, I magically altered my appearance. It wouldn't be enough to fool anyone insightful, but it was better than nothing.

I entered the city as an aspiring adventurer.

It was a lively place. The air was fresh and clear.

As I got closer to the adventurer's guild local headquarters, I heard the sounds of people arguing.

It was a pair of girls arguing with a merchant, apparently over some product.

I tried to ignore it and walk by, but one of them ran up to me.

"Big bro, how much would you pay for this sword?"

She was waving it in my face and being annoying.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Get that out of my face."

"Sorry, but please! You look like an adventurer, so you should know."

I sighed.

"It looks like trash, so nothing. Now, leave me alone."

Apparently that had been the answer she was looking for, because she used it as evidence to back a demand for a refund on her sister's behalf.

I entered the guild building.

I was looking to join a competent adventuring party to explore some particular Elven ruins.

It would be easier to find one if I were licensed, so I'd get that done first.

The first test was a written one, offered weekly. The next one would be held in the afternoon of that day, so I had come at a mildly fortunate time.

I thought to myself that good things do happen occasionally, but such an erroneous way of thinking was quickly corrected.

The girl from earlier who had waved the trashy sword in my face (and her sister, for good measure) were waiting outside the exam room.

"Big bro! You also came to write the exam?"

"I'm not your brother."

"But you helped us back there, so you're our bro now."

"I am not your 'bro'. I said my honest opinion. I don't care if I helped you or not."

Does no good deed truly go unpunished?

I'd say these things were sticking to me like leeches, but I actually like leeches. They have cool mouthparts, fantastic resistance to pollution and can drink up to ten times their bodyweight in blood, unlike this pair of girls. Or, that was my impression, anyway. You never know.

Despite my best efforts, they talked at me until the exam started.

I managed to tune them out as I read up on local regulations.

All three of us passed, so we'd move on to the practical portion.

The basic fitness tests were trivial. I listed my specialty as a ranged magician. I was more than good enough at that; going in as a close combat expert as well would've been a bit too remarkable.

After all, I was technically in hiding. And the more contingencies I had in reserve, the better.

For the specialized test, I vaporized the center of my target and left the surrounding area unharmed. That should be good enough for a reasonable rank.

The examiner for the final component was pretty unreasonable. He said he'd let the whole group pass if anyone could defeat him, and otherwise we'd all fail.

The sisters failed, of course, as did a couple of others taking the test.

When it came to my turn, I hit him with a mental attack, walking up to him as he was writhing on the ground, and put my sword to his throat before releasing the illusion.

He didn't seem too happy, but he called it a pass.

That incidentally meant the nuisances passed as well.

What a terrible method. Not only did it prevent qualified people from passing in the event that nobody in the group was extraordinary, it also otherwise allowed people with potentially no combat sense to gain licenses for a dangerous job.

Perhaps it was his first time as an independent examiner? I'd like to think so, and that the management wasn't actually that incompetent.

After I got my temporary license, B-rank, since that was the highest you could get directly from testing at such a place, a middle aged woman approached me.

She was a member of an experienced party that had been on the lookout for a competent mage.

She asked if I was willing to join them for a short mission to see if I was a fit with the team.

I looked over at them. There was a middle aged man, probably the woman's husband based on their rings, and a priest.

Their equipment was expensive, practical and well-cared for. It was the sort that was a good investment, not the flashy type used by nobility.

I talked to her for a bit and it enforced my initial impression. This was about as good a team as I would find in a city like this.

I was about to agree when the louder nuisance from earlier appeared in front of me and glared at the woman.

"Big Bro is already going to hunt with us. Stop bothering him!"

"I told you not to call me your fucking brother. I hardly even know you and I have no interest in hunting with people who can barely kill a raccoon."

The nuisance pouted, and her sister skipped over.

"Is big brother not coming with us?"

The loud one said I wasn't and her sister promptly looked like she was going to cry. What the hell was she doing becoming an adventurer if this was enough to cause emotional distress?

The middle aged woman regarded the mess with understandable concern.

"Do you need some time to handle this?"

I shook my head.

"There isn't anything to handle."

She seemed to find this dubious. Again, understandable, as the crying one was trying to grab at my shirt. I sighed.

"Alright, I'll deal with this first. I'll contact you later to discuss the details."

I left the guild building and started walking. The two of them trailed after me like malicious baby geese.

"If you keep following me, I'm going to report you for stalking and harassment."

"We're just going in the same direction," the louder one said.

"Are you going to be 'going in the same direction' as me all the way into danger zones?"

She just pouted and her sister made another attempt at my shirt.

"You're actively making my life difficult. If it's out of gratitude, as you claim, then you should leave."

"You don't have to think about us. We'll be quiet and just accompany you. It'll be much more fun than looking for people's cats!"

"How do you even expect to survive where I'm going?"

"Big brother will protect us!"

For the love of fuck, I wish they'd stop calling me that. Maybe it'd be better if they followed me and got eaten.