After a life spent scraping the bottom of society, doing nothing of substance and living only day-to-day, what flooded through the body of the exhilarated man was a sensation he hadn’t felt as far back as he could remember: standing triumphant amidst the resounding cheers, he felt alive.
Looking back, most of those below were busy celebrating–either jumping up and down, hugging one another, or profusely crying that they were still alive–though all of his faithful familiars watched him proudly.
A thumbs-up was given to them before he found himself suddenly being joined atop the dragon by Vildren, who was beaming with joy.
“Jett Levine, my friend!” Vildren said, embracing him, “--It’s because of you that we were able to defeat this beast without tragedy.”
“I don’t know about all of that, you kept the morale up,” he bashfully responded, though scratched his cheek as he looked at the man, “Still, were you serious about talking to the Guild about a potential promotion for me?”
“Of course! Bias aside, there is no doubt a bronze rank is not only a disrespect to your prowess, but an extreme oversight by the Guild, seeing as your skills could be put to much better use as a higher-privileged adventurer,” Vildren told him.
“I see…If that’s the case, then I can’t say no!” He said, hardly hiding how badly he wanted the promotion.
–
The cleanup was left to an entirely different quest, which allowed non-participating adventurers to handle hauling the corpse of the dragon down the colossal mountain for verification, studying, and selling.
As for Jett, he returned to the cave, having to continuously assure Edith he didn’t require healing, even if it did make her pout. The Transport Crystal was being used in order by adventurers seeking to return to the Merdlum Guild, which he stored his familiars before using it for himself. It was always quite the odd sensation witnessing all of his familiars be stored into the [Void Inventory], though he learned from asking a few of them that it was a pleasant experience for them–like a beauty sleep they couldn’t achieve normally.
“Transport!”
It was that odd sensation once again, as if all gravity removed itself and his body was carried upon subtle ripples of space. There was nothing to do but stay with his thoughts through the brief process of being transported magically.
‘I wonder how much they’ll bump me up–that shaky guy, Johannes, I think? He said he was silver and one rank higher than me. I’d definitely kick that guy’s ass any day of the week, so I better be promoted higher!’ He thought.
–Just like that, once again, he suddenly found himself standing there in the back of the Guild Hall of Merdlum, blinking a few times as a tingling feeling was left throughout his body as a side-effect of the transportation.
“...That’s definitely going to take some getting used to,” he mumbled.
“There you are!”
He found himself suddenly hounded by a pair of unfamiliar faces; they were clearly adventurers from the Raid Quest as their leather-and-steel gear was dirtied and scratched, as was their skin, though he didn’t recognize them.
“I saw you out there–that’s some mean summoning magic you got there! Not to mention some crazy magic!” The left adventurer said, an energetic, short man with fuzzy, orange hair and a chipped tooth.
The right adventurer was tall and built broadly with a stomach that could hardly be contained by the armor he wore, nodding his head, “A bronze-rank taking out a dragon? The bards of Merdlum are going to be singing their hearts out tonight!”
“Err, thanks,” he bashfully accepted their kind words with a chuckle.
It wasn’t just those two, either, it seemed he was the man of the hour with the looks of reverence and excitement he received, along with constant chants of the “Dragon-Slaying Rookie”--which definitely didn’t help his already building ego.
“Looks like you’re already quite famous in town. Word spreads fast, my friend.”
Walking beside him through the Guild Hall was the man in shining armor and of dazzling, purple eyes–
“Vildren,” Jett said, looking over at the man, surprised by his sudden appearance.
“Meldrum isn’t a small town, but it’s not a large one. Grand feats like slaying a dragon don’t stay quiet for more than mere moments, as you’ve already experienced,” Vildren smiled, “Celebrate tonight, Jett, meet me at the tavern tomorrow if you’d like–there will be plenty others there, as well. We’ll drink, sing, and feast to our heart’s content…And, bring some of those summons of yours. I grew quite fond of some.”
The offer sounded delightful, especially after quite a tiring experience such as dragon slaying, so he accepted it graciously, “Alright, it’s a deal!”
All that was left before he could take his time off for the day was to obtain his reward for the Raid Quest–which was observed by scouts and confirmed by trusted adventurers for fair compensation given in accordance to one’s accomplishments during the raid.
Most adventurers seemed to get around fifty to one-hundred copper, seeming almost like a participation trophy than anything.
As it was his turn to receive his accommodation for the raid, he approached the two receptionists and the silver-bearded, well-dressed man standing before him. There was a small, golden plate on his chest that inscribed his title: “Guild Headmaster.”
“Rookie Jett Levine, hmm…” The Guild Headmaster stroked his beard, “I believe we haven’t had the chance to meet as of yet. I am Jormun Heisgard, the Headmaster of the Merdlum Guild.”
“Nice to meet you,” he nodded, accepting the senior’s handshake.
There was certainly a firm grip he received; looking at the scars left on the silver-bearded man’s hand and face, along with his inexplicably strong physique, there was no doubt he used to have quite the action-packed occupation of his own.
“You’ve only been affiliated with the Guild for but a day, yet your exploits have shown the Guild, loud and clear, that the rank of “Bronze” is unfitting for one of your caliber,” Headmaster Jormun said.
“--” Jett gulped.
It was the moment of truth; the promotion he sought with the hopes of rising in the world of Fantasia–it was the natural order of gaining the fame, power, and reverence he desired–all of which he missed out on in his first life.
“Jett Levine,” Headmaster Jormun said, beginning to open the esteemed marble case, “I hereby promote you to the rank of Elite Gold.”
Inside of the case lay a new necklace, laying on a velvet blanket; it dazzled, being made of an exuberant, golden material with the insignia of the Guild etched onto it.
“With the rank of Elite Gold, you will have access to much more dangerous quests, but in turn, much more lucrative–in addition, certain privileges will be awarded to you in each city of the continent of Elyrian,” Headmaster Jormun explained.
“Gold…?” He let out in awe.
“Is this a sufficient promotion?” The Headmaster asked.
“Sufficient? It’s great!” He accepted the new necklace, wearing it around his neck, “Thank you, Headmaster!”
“Of course,” Headmaster Jormun said, “Thank you for your hard work.”
A promotion wasn’t all he received, as he also was granted a small chest filled with copper coins, totaling to a whopping amount of five-hundred.
‘...It’s taking all of my willpower not to salivate at the sight of this much money!’ He thought.
Of course, he wasn’t going to walk around willy-nilly with such a heavy supply of copper, opting to send it into his [Void Inventory] as the maw of darkness swallowed it up for him. There was simply nothing more convenient to him than the personal inventory he gained as a skill.
‘I’ll definitely be doing a lot of summons tonight…I’m almost too excited–I can’t contain it,’ he thought happily.
Curious of the placement of his rank as an adventurer, he asked Julia about it, who explained it simply, the rankings went as followed, from lowest to highest:
Bronze, Silver, Cobalt, Gold, Platinum, Obsidian, and Cosmic.
In addition, there were “sub” rankings to differentiate within each individual ranks, being three of each rank: Intermediate, Elite, and Superior.
‘So, I’m around the “middle” of gold,’ he thought.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Cherishing his new rank-bearing necklace, he glanced over to where Vildren was sitting in the hall, who was cleaning his blade with a rag. He noticed a few adventurers around Vildren, talking to him as if he was quite the popular fellow–which wasn’t exactly surprising.
‘A Gold-rank seems like a big deal, at least in a town not so big like Merdlum. I wonder if that applies to me as well?’ He thought.
Although there was something else on his mind as he left the Guild Hall, venturing into town, which was bustling near dusk–it was the idea of another promotion along with actually progressing through the world of Fantasia.
‘This is the “Town of Beginnings” basically–a town in RPGs where everybody makes their start. What that means is…I’m going to need to move on soon. If I want to get closer to reaching the Reverse King, I can’t stay here forever,’ he thought.
The question at the moment was what he would do until heading over to the tavern to celebrate. There were plenty of things he felt like doing, especially with all of the copper burning a hole in his pocket, though he found himself walking to Falmur’s shop.
He had grown accustomed to the layout of Merdlum, finding his way to the equipment-selling establishment without much trouble, except for the random callouts and high-fives he received from passing adventurers.
“Good job, Dragon Slayer!”
“Nice moves out there!”
All he could really do was smile and wave in return, not knowing how to handle such attention. As soon as he entered Falmur’s shop, he was greeted by a grin from the bald-headed owner of the place.
“Jett, my man!” Falmur said, calling out to him from behind the desk as he noticed him, “Heard you’ve been slaying dragons out there? Didn’t know you had it in ya’! My gear must be just that great, huh?”
“Err, something like that–man, how does information get around so quickly here?!” He asked.
“A rookie like you handling a dragon–an Abyss Dragon, no less–is definitely something that spreads like wildfire around here,” Falmur said, wiping his hands with a rag, “That’s just how the people of Merdlum are–there is a lot of pride taken in achievements from people from your town, yeah?”
“Yeah, I sorta get that,” he responded.
It seemed that the owner had just gotten done with some blacksmithing work as his hands were covered in dust, which he wiped away before daring to touch his precious merchandise, straightening display sets of armor.
“So, what can I do for ya?” Falmur asked, “Need some new gear?”
Fortunately, he didn’t actually need any replacements for his clothes after the battle as he was careful not to receive any blows from the dragon, though there was some dirt on his dark-black cloak.
“Actually, I didn’t come here to buy anything,” he said.
“Huh?” Falmur raised an eyebrow.
“I was wondering, what town do you think would be best to go to from here?” He asked, “I know it’s a bit weird to ask you, but I’ll pay for that information.”
Falmur scratched his chin, “Listen, I might be a businessman, but I ain’t heartless; I’m not going to charge you for information like some sleazy haggler. Besides, you’re a repeat customer and practically a hero of Merdlum at this point–I’d lose sleep if I charged ya like that.”
“Really? Thanks,” he showed his gratitude.
“Just wondering though, why don’t ya just ask the people at the Guild?” Falmur asked.
It was definitely a reasonable question, as there was no doubt that the Guild was the proper channel to request such information, though Jett had his own reasons.
Leaning against one of the walls in the shop, he answered, “Truthfully…I’d feel bad asking which city to go to since I’d be abandoning Merdlum in doing so. It’s not that I don’t like this town, but if I want bigger and better things, well, you know?”
“I gotcha. That’s what happens with a lot of adventurers that start here–just the way it is,” Falmur said, “Still, what brought you to me?”
“You’re a blacksmith and the owner of a shop that sells items for battle…In a town that frequently has passing adventurers, you’re sure to hear a thing or two,” he told the blacksmith.
Falmur chuckled, “Smart–fortunately for you, you’re not wrong. I just so happened to hear of a place where a lot of up-and-coming adventurers are heading. It’s a city that is rumored to be attacked by one of the Reverse King’s generals soon.”
“Really?” He asked, clearly intrigued.
“It’s a city east of Merdlum, though you’ll have to pass through some sketchy mountains and a raging river–they call it the “Home of Paladins”--Lethrunia,” Falmur informed him.
It was definitely news to his ears, though it sounded to be exactly what he was looking for–even better, perhaps, as the prospect of facing an aspect of the Reverse King’s forces stood out as a perfect opportunity to him.
“Lethrunia…Thanks!” He said, getting the information he wanted, leaving in a hurry.
“No problem–but hey, you better stop on by now and a then and buy somethin’!” Falmur called out.
There was no doubt that he was feeling truly acclimated to the world of Fantasia, or at the very least, the humble town of Merdlum felt like home already; wearing his adventurer outfit, marching through town with others recognizing and praising him, he felt like a part of it all.
Even before reaching the first step to enter the tavern, he could tell it was a lively night; there were already drunken adventurers and civilians laughing it out just outside of the doors, along with quite rowdy cheers from within.
To the once reclusive, youthful man, this would’ve been a deterrent, but all it did was bring a smile on his face as he entered the establishment.
“There he is!”
“Jett–!”
–Immediately upon entering, he was greeted by the bundle of adventurers from the Guild, which of course he recognized Vildren immediately, even though the amethyst-eyed man was out of his usual armor, instead wearing a black training shirt and some leather pants.
Taken aback for a moment by the overwhelming greeting, he then responded, walking over before sharing a clasp of hands with Vildren.
“Thanks for having me!”
‘...At first, the atmosphere of the tavern was suffocating. The stench of booze and boisterous people in it made me sick. Now, it’s totally different–it’s alive; this is the joy of company,’ he thought.
Of course, he brought in all of his familiars into the tavern as well, earning some claps and definite curiosity as he summoned the near dozen figures in an instant. Still, it seemed mostly everybody was too drunk to question Jett’s summoning capabilities.
“Drink! Drink! Drink!”
–It wasn’t as though he was adverse to alcohol, it’s just that he was completely and totally inexperienced with it. Even worse, the mead of Merdlum was undoubtedly more potent than anything he would’ve come across in his past life.
Gunter already had mead staining his beard, slinging his arm around Jett’s shoulders, “Drink up, Jett! Tonight, we celebrate a total victory over the Abyss Dragon!”
“Yeah!” Vildren chipped in, nearly stumbling forward as he held his mug up, spilling some of the amber liquid on the floor.
‘He’s already wasted!’ Jett thought.
As the man of the hour, all eyes were on him as he held the mug of potent liquid, gulping as he looked down on it. It definitely wasn’t a pleasant scent that met his nose as he brought the rim of the mug closer to his lips.
“Drink! Drink! Drink!”
“Do it! Do it! Do it!”
‘Talk about peer pressure!’ He thought.
The cheers certainly filled him with the courage to finally do it, bringing the cup to his lips before allowing the foamy, yet smooth liquid flow across his tongue and straight down the hatch. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but for the occasion, it went down easily, allowing him to gulp it down while the cheers only seemed to increase in volume now.
“Gah–!”
After downing the entire mug, definitely calling upon his own image of Gunter in order to do so, he let out a sharp breath as the taste certainly left its own impression within his mouth.
“Well done!” Vildren called out.
“That’s my Master!” Gunter celebrated.
“--Woah!”
Before he knew it, he was swooped up by both Gunter and Vildren, hoisted up and paraded in the tavern; the two seemed to be a pair of rather energetic drinking buddies, even as refined and knightly as Vildren seemed.
“Dragon Slayer! Dragon Slayer! Dragon Slayer!” The tavern of adventurers chanted.
After enough, he finally hopped down, though he was slightly wobbly in his landing considering there was some booze to fiddle with his sense of balance.
“I-I’d like to carry Master, too!”
Edith, with her cheeks clearly flushed by some alcohol herself, suddenly said, bringing her face uncomfortably close to Jett’s own.
“Edith?!” Jett said in surprise, having to lean back as the silver-haired girl was far too close for the man who had seldom interacted with the opposite gender, “--You’re totally wasted!”
“...Am not!” Edith argued, pouting almost like a child.
It was the most forward and vocal he had ever seen the usually stoic, serious woman, definitely catching him off-guard. Somehow, for better or worse, through Edith constantly walking closer and him walking backward, leaving him separating from the others in the tavern.
Though there was definitely a reason nobody noticed him and Edith’s drunken shenanigans: Vildren and Gunter were having a drink-off, or more accurately, Gunter was facing all of the adventurers alone in a battle of booze-drinking.
“Jett! Why’re you moving away from me…?” Edith asked with cheeks even further flushed.
‘She totally is drunk!’ He realized.
It was the first time he’d heard his name leave the lips of the most dutiful of his familiars, striking a place in his heart he didn’t know existed. Of course, if placed into an awkward position, the idea of simply retrieving Edith back into [Void Inventory] was an option, though using it in such a scenario felt “tyrannical” to him.
–While dealing with his drunken companion, the entirety of the tavern suddenly went silent as “something” was felt seemingly by everyone within it; like an inexplicable shudder of gravity, rippling with an uneasy power.
‘What was that…? Is that somebody’s magical signature?’ He wondered.
It managed to bring even the drunken spellblade’s attention as the silver-haired woman looked towards the entrance.
Following the unknown sensation, a figure walked through the tavern doors, slapping them open and letting themselves in with a beaming smile.
“So, this tavern is still up and running? I thought this dingy, old place would’ve collapsed by now,” the stranger said as they walked in, looking around at the establishment’s wooden interior.
They hardly looked like they belonged in a tavern, seeming no older than their mid-teens, yet they wore armor that was spectacular in nature–all-white as if forged from quartz itself with radiant, golden hair to match.
‘Who is that…? Why is he giving off such a strong presence?’ He questioned.
For the first time, his System activated when looking at another person, causing a digital prompt to appear in his vision when looking at the quartz-armored stranger; it was a feature he only saw when looking at terrific monsters, not fellow humans.
‘What…? This can’t be right? Is my System broken?!’ He thought.
[BOSS: “Constantine, The Twelfth General of the Reverse King | The Erupting Star” | Lv: 50]
‘A general of the Reverse King?...What’s that level?! This is a starter town right–this is way too early!’ He panicked.