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Monsters and a dome-like barrier had appeared out of nowhere over the royal capital. The anticipated attack on the Lords’ Council never happened, yet Spirito still suffered: citizens mauled by monsters, knights wounded in the fighting, buildings damaged, distribution snarled—the list went on.
And then the public’s anger found a target: the Royal Capital Adventurers’ Guild.
Word spread that, during the assault, some adventurers had used civilians as decoys to flee. If it had been only a few loud accusers, perhaps it wouldn’t have stuck. But there were many witnesses. Knights and court mages filed the same reports, which fanned the flames. Protests now erupted daily outside the guild.
Taking the matter seriously, the capital branch announced sanctions for all involved adventurers. Severity varied by case, but those who had clearly acted inhumanely received the harshest penalty: loss of adventurer status.
Some citizens still called the punishments too light—demanding legal prosecution. But “inhumanity” alone was hard to prosecute, and the guild was a neutral organization. Unlike knights or mages, adventurers weren’t under a public duty to fight. As a compromise, the branch settled on internal discipline. Among the penalized was even the once-noted capital party, Wings of Light.
Days after the incident, reconstruction was underway. Many residents pitched in—and a number of adventurers showed up as well, half-volunteered, half “voluntold.”
“Damn it… why are we doing this?”
“Shut it. We’re trying to claw back trust.”
Some punished adventurers had mitigating circumstances; others were only “strongly suspected.” Those demoted (but not stripped of their license) were put on “compulsory assignments,” i.e., public service.
“I’m not scooping rubble out of a canal all day.”
“…Better than dredging the sewers.”
Even adventurers who’d done nothing wrong joined in—“a citizen’s duty,” the newly appointed head of the capital branch said.
“This is good enough, right?”
“…Yeah, sure. We’re busy.”
Grumbling, the pair kept skimming junk from the waterway. The flow was still sluggish; there was a mountain of debris left. No one could call the job “done.”
They climbed out and stretched. A black shadow stepped up behind them.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Yeah—we’re capital adventurers, you know?”
A heel smashed into their backs—both men pitched headfirst into the water, soaked to the bone.
“Y-you bastard! What the hell—”
“Y-you’re…!”
“Has that broken brain of yours reset yet?”
Looking down at them from the canal’s edge was the person capital adventurers now called their natural enemy: Zeke.
“Got something to say?”
“…No. Nothing at all.”
“Good. Keep going.”
Hiroto—wandering the capital as Zeke—wasn’t doing community service; he was simply making the rounds, checking what matched game knowledge and what didn’t.
(Didn’t have time to look around during the monster mess.)
The Lords’ Council had wrapped without incident; the commission was effectively complete. Before returning to Lagias, he was squeezing in some sightseeing.
(They’re working the adventurers hard… Not that it has anything to do with me.)
He’d half expected someone to rope him in; no one did. Fine by him. If they had, he would’ve ignored it anyway. With the job finished and his revenge taken, it was back to training once he returned to Lagias. Up next came an event that marked a branching point for Luke—and for Zeke as well.
(Every time I brush against the main cast, trouble follows. Odds are the next time will be the same…)
He could think himself in circles forever. Better to tackle things one at a time.
“You there, black hair! Stop!”
And just like that, a new headache arrived.
“I finally found you.”
“Mistaken identity. Beat it.”
It was the girl he’d met in the capital—the one who fought with short staff, short blade, and support magic in a peculiar style. Ellis.
“Your mouth really is awful. I’m almost impressed.”
“If someone like you is impressed, that tells me plenty.”
She didn’t flare up—Ellis already understood what he was like.
“Whatever. …Are you leaving the capital?”
“I’m done here.”
From his tone, she guessed he was heading out. Her expression tightened, as if she’d made up her mind.
“I heard it… You’re Zeke Lagias. Aren’t you.”
She’d learned it while talking with Markus and Keat.
“And?”
Hiroto inwardly sighed—again with this. The name Lagias drew reactions like moths to a flame. He had no intention of “correcting” anyone’s impression; he knew the reality from the start… even if there were a few things that still bothered him.
“I’m sorry!”
Zeke narrowed his eyes at the sudden apology.
“I’d formed a bad opinion just because you’re a Lagias. I’d never met you, and I only listened to people around me… I’m truly sorry.”
She rattled off the rumors one by one like a confession; Hiroto wondered, just how many of these are there?
“None of them have real backing. If all of it were true, the kingdom wouldn’t be sitting on its hands… right?”
Ellis forced a wry smile—thinking of Markus and Keat, both kingdom men. As for the Lagias couple… well, Hiroto felt a bit guilty there.
“I should’ve figured it out sooner. You don’t have to forgive me—I just wanted to apologize.”
“Pointless.”
He snorted, cutting her down.
“Don’t get full of yourself. Whatever you think has no bearing on me.”
“Why? People slander you… and you didn’t do anything wrong. Like the other day—you saved so many. That wasn’t ‘Zeke Lagias the monster’…”
It wasn’t just that one scene—many residents had said the same: a black-haired, noble-looking boy blitzed through monsters and vanished before they could even thank him.
“How can you be fine with it? Why not deny it? You did things worth praising. I don’t know much about Ciel—the silver goddess—but you saved Apion too, didn’t you?”
She had to ask. How could he keep walking, unshaken, as if the whole world were against him?
“Don’t make me repeat myself. What they think is irrelevant.”
“But the ‘truth’ out there is wrong.”
“Idiot. Are you going to go door to door telling people they’re wrong? That’s peak stupidity. Let them talk. If they come at me, I’ll crush them. That’s all.”
An iron trunk of a will that never bent—Ellis gave up first.
“Fine, I won’t say another word. You’re impossibly stubborn. Just like my dad…”
She smiled, a little embarrassed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve met him—Strohk Larc. He’s my father.”
A regimental commander who’d led the operation this time; subdued a culprit, pinpointed and destroyed a circle—a key contributor.
“…Face reality.”
“It’s true! People always say we don’t look alike, though!”
New trivia, nothing more. Hiroto filed it under “Huh.”
“Anyway—judging people by looks is stupid. Whether you like it or not, I’ll do what I think is right… See you!”
Ellis strode off. He didn’t really understand what she’d come to say—but if she got in his way later, he’d show no mercy.
“Yo! Did you make the lady mad? As your elder, shall I offer advice?”
He turned. The gaudy peacock himself—Aaron of the Royal Guard—waved.
“I’ll kill you.”
“Now hold on—that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
Aaron smiled through the death threat, unfazed.
“Kidding. The lady already said what I planned to, so I’ll keep it brief.”
“Everyone’s got time to waste, I see.”
Aaron Izosaar, young genius of the marquis house Izosaar and a member of the Royal Guard. A rapier-and-lightning specialist famed for court fencing.
“As you can see, I’m back on my feet. Thought I’d say hello.”
“Your head’s still broken.”
Hiroto had never heard of him in the game—no surprise he failed to place the name.
“People can’t keep up. Unless they’re geniuses like you.”
“Congenital, then… pitiable.”
Zeke’s pitying stare only made Aaron puff his chest out.
“I used to hear that a lot. But I’ve now recognized—there’s always a higher peak…”
From Hiroto’s view, Aaron’s skills were high—add a marquis house, and it’s odd he wasn’t in the game. Maybe he was cut content.
“Different topic—someone’s turned rather pale. I won’t say who.”
“Hmph. Good. Perhaps it’ll do the creep some good.”
After the incident, Aktor had summoned Aaron. No formal punishment—but one sharp warning: stop poking that hornet’s nest.
“He doesn’t know how nasty the field gets. I wish he’d understand.”
Aaron shook his head. For all his theatrics, he wore two hats: Royal Guard and intelligence.
“Just talking to myself here… but the upper echelons are in a panic.”
A provincial curse, then a capital assault—unprecedented back-to-back blows. Not natural disasters; a hostile organization was clearly at work.
“Since we don’t know the full picture, we expect a ‘next time.’ The most obvious ‘occasion’ is the Knight Order entrance examinations.”
“Figured.”
Held annually in the capital—testing strength, background, character—brutally competitive every year. This time, unlike usual, they’d announced a joint exam with the Mage Corps.
“Stage one’s here in Spirito, but the later stages move. If something happens, that’s where… but my position makes it hard to leave the capital.”
Hiroto’s original-story knowledge matched: joint exams weren’t new—but there’d been no “attack” in that arc.
“Maybe it’s nothing. But the captured culprits all had one name on their tongues—yours. You hardly need the reminder, but let me say it anyway: be careful.”
Aaron’s face grew serious.
“Too late for that, idiot…”
Nothing had changed. Since arriving in this world, everyone had been an enemy. A few more or less didn’t matter. Yesterday, today, tomorrow.
“I see. If anything happens, call me. I’ll come—even from the world’s edge!”
“Ciao!”
He twirled away, and passersby cleared a path like he was a walking red flag.
“Luke, you’ve brought down another big one… a mated pair, even.”
Rent Territory Adventurers’ Guild—home base for Zeke and Luke.
“I can’t let him stay ahead of me. And the entrance exams are soon.”
Missry, the front-desk clerk, had known Luke for years—and Zeke for nearly three. Today she was stunned because Luke had soloed a B-rank griffon, half-bird, half-beast.
“I hear Mr. Zeke is in the capital…”
“He seems to have business there.”
When Luke had asked to tag along for the commission, Zeke had refused.
“Focus on what you’re supposed to do.”
It wasn’t coldness—he’d said it for Luke’s sake. So Luke trained and quested in parallel.
“He’s fine on his own… If anything, his flaw is overdoing it.”
“As a guild, we think he’s a rare noble who knows restraint. And I’m proud we produced an A-rank adventurer from Rent!”
Missry didn’t know the inside story behind that promotion. Luke only smiled wryly—maybe the glory would be short-lived.
“…All right, please process this. I’ll be back in a few days.”
Leaving the guild, Luke planned more sword work at home.
(I’ve aimed at the entrance exams for so long. I’m passing. No matter what.)
He steeled himself. Eyes forward—he’d always moved like that, and he would keep doing so.
What saddened him was that his best friend—always at his side—would be absent when exam day came.
The story wouldn’t stop. No matter how things ended for the two of them.
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