2-11 To The Royal Palace

The twenty-third day in this other world.

Last night, we took rooms in the dungeon city of Adros.

There was no inn truly suitable for royalty in a rough-and-tumble city like this, but it seemed they’d arranged the relatively decent place we’d stayed at on the way in.

The royal palace had already been notified—apparently the Adros magistrate had sent a fast rider ahead—and a heavily armed detachment of the Kingdom’s Knight Order had been dispatched in formal fashion.

And Ed, a commoner, had burned out to ash-white exhaustion from the stress of carrying the prince and tending to him.

Good for you.

You’ll never again, for the rest of your life, get the wonderful experience of walking for three days with a prince on your back.

The next day, His Highness’s party headed for the royal capital in a luxurious carriage, and we, too, were invited along to the palace.

Unfortunately, it didn’t look like we’d be given time to leisurely explore the labyrinth city.

Adros was practically next to the capital, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t come back any time—but still, a first visit always gets your heart racing, and you want at least a souvenir as a memento.

This time, we’d even ended up slaying an unexpected A-rank monster, for crying out loud.

Farewell, labyrinth city.

We’ll deepen our friendship another day—slowly, properly.

And then, in a room inside the palace where we were led— we were kept waiting in a lavish chamber, and everyone looked uneasy.

As for me, I was in a great mood, tail-wagging mentally.

The fact they’d brought us this far meant they didn’t intend to unilaterally break their promise.

Worst case, I’d win the right to tour the royal vault.

I might be able to copy something good.

That was why I was the only one practically bouncing with excitement.

“How can you be so carefree? This is the royal palace, you know?”

“So?”

Ed clutched his head at my airy, not-even-here kind of cheer.

“This isn’t a place people like us are supposed to come.”

“Yeah, exactly…”

My too-light reply made someone else clutch their head too.

“Relax. Nobody’s going to kill us No matter what the real story is, publicly I’m the savior who saved the prince’s life, you know? Sure, even that prince’s dungeon trip looked like it had some ‘circumstances,’ but if they try to erase everything for the sake of secrecy and come for us, I’ll just carve a path out by force. This kingdom isn’t that stingy.”

If it came to it, it might even be fun to play the Stranger card.

It might only work inside this kingdom, but still.

“That’s not the issue…”

Ed muttered as if he’d given up.

Knock, knock.

Oh? Someone was coming.

If this were an internet joke, it would be followed by “Fin,” but in reality, the door opened after the knock, and a knight stepped in—wearing expensive-looking silver armor, helmet removed—and announced flatly:

“His Majesty the King will grant you an audience. All of you, proceed to the audience chamber.”

“!”

What—straight into an audience with the king?!

No one told me that.

Th-this was not in the plan.

Following the knight, we walked down a broad corridor lined with fine carpets, and everyone was so tense it was painful to watch.

Me, though—I wasn’t from this world, so none of it felt real.

I only knew things like this from stories.

I didn’t have any connection to the mansions of the super-rich back on Earth either.

I’d only ever seen them in photos.

Even when I went to Vegas, Anaheim, or Hollywood studio tours, I never bothered with Beverly Hills.

I wasn’t interested in American celebrities.

I’m not even interested in Japanese celebrities.

What’s so great about them anyway?

It’s not like they do anything for me.

So while I was being led through the palace, all I did was look around at everything.

I was a pure country bumpkin tourist.

Like touring some palace in Britain that’s open to visitors.

‘A palace really does have incredible furnishings… ah, I want to copy them.’

Even I didn’t have the mental room to actually try something like that.

“We have brought five adventurers!”

The grand double doors—carved, ornate, and probably made of premium hardwood—opened, and we were led inside.

A breathtakingly vivid crimson rug—some kind of leather—lay across the floor, a single unbroken piece at least three meters wide.

A red carpet!

And it was seamless and absurdly long!

What kind of creature’s hide was this?!

From the shape, probably a snake.

But if it was a snake, how enormous did it have to be?

And that beautifully finished leather was clearly not some shed skin.

I couldn’t even imagine how much time and manpower it had taken just to process it.

Now that I’d fought that stubborn A-rank monster, even I understood what kind of power it would take to hunt a giant snake-like thing that could provide this hide.

Whatever beast this came from was no cheap, common monster.

It might even be down in Adros’s depths.

Unreal—an otherworld royal palace was something else.

To reach the level where I could hunt something like that… how high would I have to climb?

Starting the cursed business of adventuring at my age, that summit probably sat at the far end of a hazy, unreachable sky.

If I wasn’t careful, it might be on the far side of the River of the Dead.

In the literal sense of lifespan.

And… the atmosphere was dangerous.

Not in the “immediate threat” sense.

Just… the presence of the people there.

Nobility—people from a world that, back in Japan, I’d never have had any connection to.

The sheer, physical feeling of not belonging hit me hard.

Though, at this point, it was far too late.

All I could do was sigh and think that maybe I should’ve changed into something a little better back in the waiting room.

Well, I wasn’t dressed roughly—more like a tidy, clean Japanese ordinary-person look, which was at least somewhat better.

The others looked fine too, just by being clean.

We’d been showering even in the labyrinth.

In front of all those glittering figures, we—dressed in classic adventurer leather-gear style—trudged forward with stiff, unfamiliar steps.

Then everyone knelt where the guiding knight indicated and bowed their heads.

“You may raise your faces.”

Ooooh!

Kings really do say stuff like that!

I was kind of moved.

“So you are called Alphonse. You have done well to save Emilio. You have my gratitude.”

“Your Majesty. Your words are far too kind. I am deeply honored.”

Polite. Polite. Very polite.

Because the other party was a real king.

“And you seek, as reward, an item from the royal vault—do you not? Is that request from all of you?”

I turned my head slightly and looked toward Ed and the others.

All of them shook their heads hard.

“They say they don’t want it. It was my request alone. And I already asked His Highness’s attendants to provide them compensation appropriate to a C-rank party for escort work.”

“I see. But the contents of the vault are not something I can hand out lightly.”

“I understand. Then may I request permission to tour the vault? As a merchant, I’d like to experience such a feast for the eyes at least once in my life.”

“Oh? That is surprisingly modest.”

His Majesty paused as if considering.

“Very well. I shall arrange it.”

“Truly?! I am honored beyond measure!”

“Then you may withdraw.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Yes—permission acquired!

I wanted to break into a dance right there.

Obviously, I didn’t.

I’d dance later at an inn or something.

And naturally, this meant we parted ways with Ed and the others here.

“See you around!”

I sent them off with a huge grin and a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Alphonse. I hope we can work together again someday.”

“Caaake—! Cream puffs—! Pudding—!”

Someone was reaching toward me and wailing as she got dragged away by Ed gripping her by the collar.

She was seriously crying.

Then the space I was led to was… genuinely magnificent.

The royal vault.

It was imposing in the truest sense.

How do I put it— lavish effort and limitless money poured into it, yet never gaudy or vulgar—real luxury.

A sacred, inviolable state sanctuary that a regular person like me would never be allowed to enter.

With a specialist guide and two knight escorts watching me, I was permitted to step into a place few ever could.

Just hearing the words “royal vault” made me swoon.

Back on Earth, the only “treasure hall” I’d ever seen was that luridly named tourist attraction, the so-called “Secret Treasure Museum.”

And the contents were truly ridiculous—but as a Showa-era old man, maybe I should’ve visited once.

Now it was a legendary thing you could only see in old photos online.

I wonder if any faded signboards still existed somewhere.

And now here I was, stepping into a “secret place” I normally could never even dream of seeing.

Even another Japanese person who’d come to this world wouldn’t be granted access so easily.

But the one who built this place—was himself one such Stranger.

So of course I got my hopes up about what might be hidden here.

I appraised the three escorts—none of them seemed to have particularly special skills.

The knights did have plenty of magic, though.

If I tried anything suspicious, those stern knights wouldn’t let it slide.

Heh. Unfortunately for them, I could instant-copy by line-of-sight storage, so please don’t mind me.

If I knew what weapons, armor, and magic tools existed, my ability might let me copy or reproduce them.

That was why I toured with maximum seriousness.

And—yeah.

There were a lot of incredible items.

It was extremely informative.

So this shape existed because they needed this function.

So this kind of function even existed in a magic tool.

So that structure was probably for that purpose—

I recorded everything with my dashcam disguised as leather-armor decoration.

They wouldn’t understand what it was just by looking, anyway.

If I could copy it, I copied it instantly.

There didn’t seem to be any anti-storage measures in place.

If it were me, I’d definitely implement theft prevention.

Recently, I’d been getting a little too bold.

If there were an alarm that detected that kind of magic power, what exactly was I planning to do?

But my partner, Seventh Sense, didn’t raise any warning.

At the very back were the relics of the founding king.

And there, displayed prominently, was something called a “Teleportation Bracelet.”

My eyes locked onto it.

I tried— but unfortunately, it wasn’t something I could copy.

More than that, I couldn’t even instant-store it.

My storage was cleanly repelled.

What a shame.

So I had no choice but to analyze it.

I focused, trying to see the flow of magic power it must have emitted when it activated— and for some reason, I could.

Maybe it was because of the Stranger magic embedded in the bracelet.

A single instant felt like eternity.

And then, somehow, I managed to create a copy of the bracelet using my item box’s “Image Creation” ability.

I recreated the physical appearance with my crafting skill, acquired the activation through Observation by “seeing” the magic flow I’d analyzed, and then enchanted it onto the bracelet I’d made.

But that was more like a magic-tool activation formula, so I couldn’t learn teleportation magic myself.

Observation worked by watching someone cast a spell and acquiring it.

Maybe the founding king had deliberately designed it so that if a Stranger came here, they could see the magic flow when teleportation activated.

Whether you had an item like this or not would massively change your otherworld life.

This world’s transport was mostly carriages.

At least I had a car and the Fly spell, so I was still on the fortunate side.

I checked and rechecked everything while looking at the real thing.

Tweaking, comparing, examining—it was satisfying to the fullest.

Since it was a centerpiece display, no one complained even when I spent time there.

At the same time, Seventh Sense showed me a despairing truth:

This bracelet couldn’t bring me back to Earth.

Not logically—just instinctively, unmistakably.

And thinking about it— even though that king had possessed something this incredible, he still hadn’t been able to return to Earth.

If even the king, using what was probably his own magic tool, couldn’t go home, that was exactly why this kingdom still existed here today.

I’d been too carried away not to realize it sooner.

Well, I’d gotten great gear, so I guessed that was fine.

I’d probably never get a chance like this again.

I could only accept it as extraordinary luck.

I switched gears and continued my copying spree.

I managed to copy about eighty percent of the treasures.

Man… I really was a villain, huh.

I couldn’t copy cursed items or tricky formula tools, but by imitating and studying, I could make a number of similar items.

I managed about thirty percent of those on the spot.

The rest I could research later.

I’d analyzed like crazy, and I had full visual records on the recorder.

And with the real items right in front of me, the reference value was enormous.

As payment for saving the prince, the vault tour was more than worth it.

I stayed so long—six whole hours—that I was definitely a burden to the staff.

But they told me, “Thank you for saving Prince Emilio.”

That made my chest sting a little.

I thanked the guide, and the villain withdrew quickly.

After leaving the palace in an excellent mood and thinking it over, I decided to head for the northern dungeon.

The one with the teleport stone.

Before that, I still had to go to the Adventurers’ Guild and negotiate a rank increase.

Since I’d defeated an A-rank monster, there was room to push for it.

But when I consulted the guildmaster, he immediately clutched his head.

“Soloing an A-rank monster is impossible even for B-rank adventurers. This is an A-rank recommendation-level case. But you’re E-rank. It’s fundamentally absurd… though I am the one who taught you advanced magic, so…”

After glaring at the ceiling for a while, the guildmaster seemed to make up his mind.

“Hey! I’ll promote you to C-rank—be satisfied with that for now.”

With a hand pressed to his forehead, he spat the words out roughly.

“Oh! Seriously? I figured at best I’d get D-rank.”

A pleasant surprise.

So the adventurer qualification system allowed rank skipping?

“Listen. In terms of raw ability, you’re unquestionably A-rank. But B-rank and A-rank require passing an exam. By a guildmaster’s authority, the highest I can promote you without conditions is C-rank. So C-rank it is. In exchange, I’ll give you my guildmaster recommendation for the B-rank exam. That gets you priority entry with no questions asked. Conveniently, the exam is tomorrow—take it.”

Tomorrow, huh.

“Seventh Sense has a side effect where, by choosing the right timing, it drags narrative convenience into reality.”

Was this also Seventh Sense doing its thing?

This might get interesting.

Then the guildmaster continued with a thorough explanation.

“The B-rank exam is held at each nation’s guild headquarters. Each round has about five hundred participants. It’s held about once a month. In prelims, you’re narrowed down to about twenty against former B-rank instructor types, then a tournament for the main event. But you have to win the whole thing, and then pass an additional review—so sometimes an exam produces zero successful candidates. In exchange, passing gets you ‘baron-equivalent treatment.’ You can apply to the kingdom and serve as nobility, too. If you serve, you can receive an honorary baron title. Earn merit, and you can even be granted a formal title—landed nobility isn’t just a dream.”

“A key rule: if you kill your opponent, you’re disqualified. So deaths are rare, but not impossible. Some people retire as adventurers because of this. Others get branded with a loser mentality and rot at C-rank forever. As for the A-rank exam, it rotates among the nations of the continent. There are only a bit over two hundred active B-rank adventurers worldwide. Many retire as they age, so the numbers don’t grow easily. That’s why the A-rank exam tends to have the same faces each time. Win that, and you’re automatically promoted to A-rank—viscount level. But age catches up, so many A-ranks retire after a relatively short time.”

“Active A-ranks are… maybe twelve or thirteen worldwide. S-rank? Only about three active. If you win tomorrow, I’ll strongly recommend you for B-rank in the review. A local guildmaster recommendation carries weight—B-rank will basically be locked. And if you pass B-rank, I’ll recommend you for the A-rank exam too. How’s that?”

Since he explained it so carefully, I basically got it.

About six thousand people participate per year, and only around twelve pass.

A two-tenths-of-a-percent acceptance rate—ten times harder than that legendary old “big bike license upgrade” hurdle people used to talk about.

But—

“Huh.”

“You…!”

The guildmaster sounded utterly dumbfounded by my lack of interest.

Sure, it was huge in this world.

Nobles sat above commoners by default.

If even a commoner could earn that status through ability, it was a big deal.

But I was born in Japan, where there wasn’t really a status system like that, so it didn’t hit the same.

Also—at this age, now?

It felt like an event for intense young people.

I looked young, so I wouldn’t stand out too much among them, but emotionally I wasn’t thrilled.

I was more suited to watching the kids compete with a beer in hand, cheering and heckling.

“Well, since it’s a chance, I’ll take it anyway.”

“All right. Don’t be late. Nine a.m.”

“Okaaay.”

“Good grief…”

This was turning into a hassle.

I’d hit my original goal—C-rank—so I didn’t actually need to climb higher.

Nobility, huh. That was… whatever.

Still, noble rank wasn’t bad.

It wasn’t like I had to serve the kingdom.

Maybe inns would treat me better too.

And I’d already told the guildmaster I’d do it.

So, with that light, half-automatic attitude, I started crafting weapons for the exam.

I couldn’t accidentally kill someone, right?

So I made a series of weapons enchanted with stun—paralysis, or rather, knocking them unconscious.

I even made a stun pistol.

With my magic-PC avionics-linked attacks, I’d manage somehow.

And honestly… doing this made me a little excited too.

All right.

I’d look forward to tomorrow’s exam—just a little.