Reborn as an Adventurer: I Gain a Skill From Every Monster I Eat

Chapter 29: Chapter 29 — Rank E

The notice came the way most important guild business did — a small, unassuming slip of paper handed to him by Mina at the registration counter, easy to overlook if he hadn’t been half-expecting it for weeks.

Arlen — Rank F to Rank E. Effective immediately, pending review confirmation. Report to Vice Guild Master’s office at your convenience.

He read it twice, standing at the counter, and found himself oddly still despite the moment being exactly what he’d been quietly working toward since the day he’d registered.

”Don’t look so surprised,” Mina said, amused. ”You’ve completed more than enough quests, your reliability record’s spotless, and frankly the review board’s noticed you’ve been performing above what they’d expect from your rank for a while now. This isn’t early. If anything, it’s about on schedule for someone as consistent as you’ve been.”

”I didn’t realize the guild tracked performance that closely.”

”We track everything. Just don’t always tell people we’re tracking it.” Mina’s mouth twitched with the faint, dry humor Arlen had come to recognize as characteristic of her. ”Go on. Lyra doesn’t bite, whatever the rumors say.”

He found Lyra Moonbrook’s office on the second floor, tucked among the training rooms and mission planning spaces he’d only ever glimpsed in passing before. She looked up from a stack of paperwork as he knocked at the open door, her composed, unhurried presence exactly as striking up close as it had been that day of the wolf pack mobilization.

”Arlen,” she said, gesturing him toward the chair across from her desk. ”Sit. This won’t take long.”

He sat.

”Rank E,” she said, sliding a small, updated badge across the desk toward him, the color subtly different from the one he’d carried since registration. ”Your quest completion record’s excellent — no failures, no complaints from any commissioning party, consistent judgment in the field even when situations shifted unexpectedly. The jackal den, in particular, stood out. Most rookies panic when a fight doesn’t go according to plan. You adapted.”

”Thank you,” Arlen said, accepting the new badge, its weight settling into his palm with a significance that felt, oddly, both larger and smaller than he’d expected.

”Rank E opens up somewhat higher-tier postings,” Lyra continued, businesslike but not unkind. ”Monster subjugation quests up to Rank 2, certain escort and investigation work previously restricted to higher ranks, and eligibility for emergency mobilization callups, should the guild need additional hands during a regional incident.” Something in her expression sharpened slightly. ”That last part matters more than people usually appreciate at your rank. Emergency mobilization isn’t glamorous. It’s dangerous, and it asks a great deal of anyone called up. Understand that before you get too excited about the badge color.”

”I understand,” Arlen said, and found, somewhat to his own surprise, that he meant it fully — the memory of Iron Vanguard’s calm, practiced readiness during the wolf pack crisis still vivid enough in his mind that the warning landed with real weight rather than abstract caution.

”Good.” Lyra made a final notation in the file open on her desk, then looked back up at him with something that might have been the faintest trace of approval. ”Keep working the way you have been. The guild notices consistency more than flashy results, in the long run.”

He left her office with the new badge pinned carefully at his collar, replacing the old one, and made his way back down to the guild hall’s ground floor with a strange, buoyant lightness in his chest that he hadn’t quite anticipated.

Cobb spotted the new badge almost immediately, from across the tavern floor, and let out a low whistle. ”Rank E already? That’s fast for someone who’s barely been registered half a year.”

”Guild said my record was solid,” Arlen said, sliding into his usual seat.

”Solid’s an understatement, apparently.” Cobb grinned, genuinely pleased rather than envious. ”Drinks are on you tonight, obviously.”

”I don’t drink.”

”Then food’s on you. Same principle.”

Sil, characteristically quiet, simply raised his mug in a small, wordless toast, which Arlen returned with his own cup of water, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over him more comfortably than he’d expected it to.

Word traveled quickly through the guild hall over the following hour, the way it always seemed to, and by the time the evening properly settled in, a modest handful of familiar faces had drifted by the table to offer their own congratulations. Brakka clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to nearly spill his drink, offering, with characteristic bluntness, to raise his standing Emberroot rate now that Arlen carried a rank that ”actually meant something on paper.” Reya appeared briefly with Dorn and Fennis in tow, the three of them freshly settled into their own continued climb toward Rank D.

”Told you,” Reya said, dropping into the empty seat beside him without waiting for an invitation. ”Keep growing the way you have been, and it wouldn’t be long.”

”You said that a few weeks ago.”

”I say a lot of things. Most of them turn out true, if you’re paying attention.” She studied him for a moment, something more thoughtful beneath her usual sharp humor. ”You’ve changed a bit, since the boundary expedition. Can’t quite put my finger on what. More settled, maybe. Sure of yourself in a way you weren’t before.”

Arlen felt the observation land closer to the truth than he was entirely comfortable with, and offered only a small, deflecting smile in response. ”Rank does that to a person, I suppose.”

”Maybe.” Reya didn’t press further, though something in her expression suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced by the simple explanation. She let it go regardless, the conversation drifting easily toward lighter matters — quest gossip, guild politics, Dorn’s ongoing and largely unsuccessful campaign to convince Fennis that a particular tavern in the market district served better stew than the guild’s own kitchen.

Arlen sat through the rest of the evening in easy, comfortable company, the new badge a small, solid weight at his collar, and found himself thinking, beneath the warmth of the celebration, about exactly how much of his recent growth genuinely traced back to two quiet, private nights that none of these people knew anything about.

Enduring Vitality had already made itself felt in ways he suspected the guild’s review board had noticed without understanding the true cause — his stamina holding steady through longer quests, his recovery between physical exertions faster than his modest training alone should have accounted for. Water Affinity had proven useful too, in smaller, subtler ways, during a river-crossing quest a week earlier that had gone considerably more smoothly than it might have otherwise.

They think it’s discipline, he thought, watching Cobb argue good-naturedly with Dorn over some minor point of guild gossip. Training. Talent, maybe. They don’t know it’s something else entirely.

The thought didn’t trouble him as much tonight as it sometimes did, sitting here surrounded by genuine, uncomplicated warmth from people who’d become, gradually and without any single dramatic moment, something like a found family in this new life he’d built for himself. He allowed himself, for this one evening, to simply enjoy the milestone without dwelling too heavily on everything underneath it.

He wrote in his journal that night, later than usual, the tavern’s noise still faintly audible through the floor of his bunk room.

Rank E. Faster than I expected, though Lyra made clear it’s earned rather than accelerated by anything unusual. I suppose, in a sense, that’s true — the abilities help, but the actual judgment, the actual choices I’ve made on each quest, those are mine. Nobody Awakened those for me.

It felt strange tonight, celebrating with people who don’t know the full truth of why I’ve grown as quickly as I have. Not dishonest, exactly. Just incomplete. I think I’ve made my peace with that, for now. Maybe I’ll always have to.

Two abilities. One rank climbed. A found family gathered around a tavern table who care about me without needing to know everything about me.

I think that might be enough, for tonight. Tomorrow, there’s still a whole world left to see.

He closed the journal, blew out his candle, and slept deeply, the new badge resting on the small table beside his bunk, catching the faint moonlight through the narrow window in a way that made it look, for just a moment, like something far more significant than a simple change of color.