Even now, it was never as easy as you thought it would be; simply handing over a Chimera’s head was not sufficient enough for one to become a Hunter. Sure, this Monster had been a problem plaguing them for almost a month. But how could they know that I was the one that killed it? They needed proof, and proof was… easy to get.

There were multiple types of evidence that could be brought into the court of law, and I had three of them available to me right now. The first was real evidence— which was the Chimera’s head itself that I had brought into the Hunters Guild. It was real, and it was right there; there was no arguing against such a thing.

The second piece of evidence was testimonial evidence: ranging from the villagers who thanked me, to the guards who saw me leave Locke the night before, I had plenty of witnesses to corroborate my story of what happened. Even the bystanders who saw me drag the decapitated bleeding skull of the Chimera served to further my case that I was the one who killed it.

And finally, the last one, demonstrated evidence, was just a pain in the ass for me. Because I had to convince the Guild Master that I was the one who killed the Chimera; give an explanation as to why I did it without first registering with the Hunters Guild; and tell them why I even wanted to be a Hunter in the first place.

Of course, this was not the court of law, so none of this really mattered; what mattered was what the judge and the jury thought, and unfortunately, this man sitting skeptically across from me played both roles.

“And why can’t you just… remove your mask?” the Guild Master of Locke’s Hunters Guild asked.

“Because of various reasons,” I said, opting not to reveal more than that.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He was an elderly gentleman. If I had to guess, I would say he was about 60 years old, past the age of retirement. Apparently he had been a Hunter once, but that did not mean he had a brash and arrogant personality as a Guild Master. In fact, he was very polite and kept trying to understand things from my perspective; though he still insisted on verifying my identity.

“I know that not every”— he looked me once over— “individual has a way to prove they are who they say they are. Photographic identification has only come a few decades ago, and the Hunters Guild itself has only started the transition, rolling out such changes slowly over time. But surely you should at least have some form of identification. I know that… Goblins… from the Sharan Enclave are all issued certificates at birth. Not that I’m assuming that you’re one, of course.”

“Mhm, but not all Goblins are from there, are they?”

“Of course not. And neither am I assuming that you’re a Goblin. Just…” the Guild Master trailed off. He took a sip from the cup of black liquid.

It was coffee. Dark, bitter, coffee. Not to my tastes, so I had a glass of water— although I did not drink from it because of my mask.

“The Hunters Guild just needs proof that you’re not some sort of criminal, Miss. Like, say, a piece of paper from the temple you were born in?”

“I was not born in a temple,” I said simply.

“Hm, of course. So are you from a small village then? A farm of some sorts?” he asked, uncertainly scratching his gray beard. “Or— no… but maybe…”

“What is it?” I titled my head to the side, as the man leaned back, folding his arms.

“Miss… could you possibly be from the Free Lands? Our country has been accepting some refugees, and it used to be a completely open border until we were overwhelmed, but that would explain your predicament.”

I nodded slowly, not really sure where he was going with this or what he meant. “And so what if I am?”

“Well, if you’re really a refugee, or even just from the Free Lands, the Hunters Guild has special circumstances regarding it. You see, the Free Cities are considered to be— and I do apologize if you take offense at this— backwards. As you know, they do partake in slavery, and some regions even condoned child intercourse— although the latter does apply to the Puer Kingdom as well— but because of these reasons, and the various conflicts they tend to have with their neighbors, trade with them is… limited.”

“They don’t get much mana tools, right?” I asked to confirm.

“Indeed. When the Mana Revolution first began, they did get access to such tools and weapons without a problem since they did play their part in sending troops for the Final Holy war. But once it was over, the Holy Xan Empire and other countries halted the exports of all such items to them, for it was believed slavery was a violation of the Holy Law to never inflict great suffering upon others. Their military stayed strong since they were attacked so often, but in regards to the standard of living… well, they are lagging behind rather significantly if I had to say so myself.”

And that meant photo identifications were not a thing, and identity documents themselves were not so pervasive. I was not sure if the Guild Master genuinely believed I was some sort of refugee, or if he was simply throwing me a bone here, but I took my chance.

“…I did come from the Free Lands. As a refugee, from the eastern border of Laxis,” I lied by omission. And thankfully, the Guild Master did not ask me to elaborate.

“Good, good. So in accordance with our rules regarding refugees… aha, you simply have to provide proof that you are qualified to be a Hunter. Normally, that’s a vague criteria which requires us to simply confirm you are physically capable of taking care of yourself— which can easily be done from knowing your age. And while that’s not possible with you however, that”— the man and I craned our necks to look at the head of the dead Chimera sitting on a table— “does prove you are fit for this job, and we would not just be letting you get yourself killed. So I believe it’s settled then.”

I smiled at that. Only when I realized I was wearing a mask and he could not see me did I quickly give a curt nod. “I do believe it is.”

“It’s not a problem at all, Miss. Now to get you licensed…” the Guild Master trailed off. “Hm, unfortunately we’ll have to draft you one of our old contracts. Unless you suddenly feel like having a picture taken of your face would not be a problem?”

When I shook my head, he continued.

“Of course. As one of the bigger branches of the Hunters Guild, all the forms we have currently prepared are for the new ID cards— which require a photograph to be taken of you— and we won’t be able to use those. If you don’t mind returning in an hour or two, we’ll have all the documents prepared for your license to be complete. You’ll just have to pay the registration fee of a single silver, which can be subtracted off your reward from killing the Chimera.”

“And how much is that?” I asked, pleasantly surprised that I was actually getting paid; I was not a registered Hunter when I did that job, so I was fully expecting them to withhold payment due to some sort of minor loophole.

“We’ll have to check what our last posted offer was, but I believe it was somewhere in the range of 10 gold? Maybe slightly less,” the Guild Master answered, getting up from his seat and offering out a hand. “I’m glad we could resolve that issue, Miss.”

I gratefully accepted it, bowing my head slightly. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your help.” I was unsure at first, but now I knew he was trying to help me the entire time— even if he still had to ensure all the rules were properly followed. Maybe I should stop being so rude. I’ve been a bit of a jerk for the past few days.

“It’s no problem at all. I’m always happy to accept a new Hunter, especially one who got rid of a problem that has been weighing down on us for weeks.”

With that, I politely exited the Guild Masters office, resolving to be a nicer person; although I could not blame myself for having been a little bit annoyed at consistently getting rejected from becoming a Hunter, I should not have taken it out on people just doing their jobs. Instead, I should have taken it out on Chimeras going around and killing innocent people.

I hate Chimeras.

This might come off as surprising, but nearly dying was not a fun experience.

The lobby of the Hunters Guild was emptier now than it was an hour ago when I first arrived; it was still full of dozens of Hunters looking through the job board, discussing their plans for the day, or just going about their business, but it was noticeably less packed than before.

When I came out from the hallway at the side, I saw heads turn from what they were doing to glance over at me. Apparently, word must have spread about my little scene earlier in the day, as various groups of people began whispering and pointing at me. I blushed.

Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. I tried to be as dramatic as possible when I made my entrance to prove the point that I deserved to be a Hunter, yet I never stopped to consider the reaction it would garner after I completed that goal. And it just made me want to crawl into a hole and never come back out ever again.

I tried to play it cool— pretend I was unbothered by all the attention I was getting. But when I nearly tripped over absolutely nothing on my way to the closest empty table, I could only curse under my breath at my past self for thinking it was a good idea to draw attention to myself. Although it seemed that that little slip up may have ended up working to my favor, as I heard a few scoffs, and half the faces staring at me turned back to what they were doing.

I took a seat at the corner of the room, nearby the television, and a server came up to me as I did; I ordered a quick meal, since I was feeling hungry after being out the whole night, but when my food arrived I realized the folly of my ways when I brought the spoon to my face and heard a dull thud.

I slowly lowered the spoon back down to the plate, and carefully wiped the mashed potatoes off my mask. This… I’m going to do this a lot from now on, aren’t I? I sighed, and leaned back on my chair.

At this point, only a handful of people were paying any attention to me now, and if the snickers were any indication, it was probably for a vastly different reason than before; to put my mind off the sheer embarrassment I was feeling at the moment, I decided to watch some television.

The TV screen was blank, so I got up and walked over it to turn it on; after spending about a minute trying to figure out why nothing would appear on the screen— despite pressing every button I could— one of the staff of the Hunters Guild tapped my shoulder from behind.

“Um, sorry, but the television is broken.”

“Oh,” I said, all emotion ripped from my voice.

I went back to my seat, and decided to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the time I had to wait before the contract was ready. Maybe I could have returned to my inn, but that would have been admitting defeat to all the people in here watching me for their entertainment. So I sat back down, and stared blankly at a wall.

You would have thought that I would get bored after five minutes of doing that, but that did not happen: I was a slave once, and I spent entire weeks simply staring at the roof of a cage without anything else to do. This was a war of attrition, and I was used to starving.

So ten minutes passed. Then an hour. At that point, most of the people who were laughing at me had already left, and the guild was even emptier now. When two hours had just elapsed, a figure barged into the Hunters Guild.

A rather rotund figure— short, about my height, with a thick, long grizzly beard. His skin was significantly more tanned than most of the Humans I had seen so far, and he stomped right into the room with his heavy leather boots, carrying a backpack full of metallic objects clanking into each other. It was almost as if he filled a sack full of pots and pans and sent it tumbling down a cliff. It was noisy, and he was noisy.

Because he was a Dwarf.

“Oi, which one of ya filthy Humans took me job? Do I have to spell it out for ya? That was my Chimera!”

People turned to face him, but no one said a word; the Dwarf scanned the lobby of the Hunters Guild, as whoever he stared at averted their gaze from him. I tried to shrink myself and make myself as small as possible— smaller than I already was— but that did not work. Someone must have already tipped him off as to who was the one to kill the Chimera, since he immediately began making his way to me.

“So it was you!” he shouted across the room, marching right up to my table. He loomed over where I sat, folding his arms and looking down at me. “Yer the lassie who thought it be a good idea to hunt my quarry, are ya?”

I stopped myself from instinctively reaching for my dagger, and answered slowly. “…so what if I am?”

The Dwarf frowned; he looked me over once, then twice, stroking his beard as he did. Finally, with a deep breath, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Hah, you’ve got quite the thick skin, don’t you?” he said just as loud as before, but without the accent from earlier. “Humans usually get intimidated when us Dwarves come up to them with our Dwarf speak, but you didn’t. So what are you then? A Goblin? A Half Dwarf? Half Goblin?”

He whispered the last part, leaning forward a little bit. When I did not respond, he just snorted.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me. Especially if it’s the last one. I hear they get treated even worse than Goblins, because they’re considered to be traitors to their species. So if that’s what you are, I don’t blame you for wearing that mask over your face.”

I tilted my head to the side, still remaining silent; I was certain he was fishing for information, trying to get some sort of reaction out of me, so I was not going to give him any. The Dwarf took a seat next to me, calling for a drink.

“Oi, you, fetch me and the little Missus some ale.” Then he turned back around to me. “My treat,” he said, giving me a toothy grin.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

At this point, the Dwarf had lost almost all of the accent he had before. You did not need to listen carefully to hear it, since it was still quite obvious, but it seemed like he was trying to speak in a manner that was actually comprehensible to a non-Dwarf by slowing down his speech and enunciating his words.

“So,” the Dwarf said, pulling out a large book and putting it down on the wooden table with a thud. “What’s your name? I’m Gennady.”

He pointed a thumb at himself, and looked at me expectantly. I put my hand out and started out a reply.

“Me—” I bit my tongue. He raised a bushy brow at that, and I quickly tried to rectify my mistakes. “Uh… me be glad to meet ya?” I said, trying to emulate the best Dwarvish accent I could.

I felt my entire body physically cringe at that; it was probably offensive— scratch that, it was definitely offensive. But it was better than giving my actual name to him; there was no point to all this secrecy if I told everyone who I was supposed to be, since all it would take was someone from the Church to ask a few questions, and they could very easily track me down.

Luckily for me, Gennady seemed to take it in stride.

“Hah, nice try. That’d have fooled any stupid Human. But Dwarves don’t shake hands, we just slap each other on the backs.”

With that, I immediately braced myself, but it was too late. He brought an arm out and smacked me from behind. I nearly went headfirst into the table, suppressing a yelp as the sharp pain ran across my body. Ouch!

“How’s that for a Dwarven greeting, eh?”

“…do you need something, Mr Gennady?” I barely managed to ask the question, still rubbing at my back; his forearms alone were twice the size of my legs, so that actually hurt quite a bit.

“Drop the ‘Mr’, little Missus—”

“It’s just Missus— I mean, Miss,” I corrected him, then myself.

“Right, whatever you say, Miss. So you killed the Chimera, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, sighing and ignoring all the skeptical side glances that seemed to have elicited from the side. “What about it?”

“Well you see, I’m a Hunter who has been making a special bestiary— a compendium of all known Monsters and where they would rank against each other. It’s my personal project, but I’m hoping to get this officialized by the Hunters Guild eventually.”

“And you’ve come to me to get information on Chimeras?”

“Hah, no,” he scoffed, slouching back on his chair. “Everyone knows what a Chimera looks like and what it can do.”

“Then what do you need me for?” I asked, frowning underneath my mask. “If you already know everything there is to know about it.”

“Because my bestiary is special, I mentioned that, didn’t I?” Gennady said, eyes glinting with some sort of excitement. “Regular bestiaries already exist. In fact, most of my references have come from the Official Guidebook to Monsters released by the Hunters Guild, and updated every decade. But all that book does is describe the Monsters— they never rank them.”

“Rank them?” I parroted him.

“That’s right. I believe the Hunters Guild system is flawed. Once you’ve gotten your Hunters license, they let you take whatever job you want at your own discretion. Leaving your safety up to yourself.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

I did not see an issue with what he was saying; as an adult, you had to carry out your own risk assessment. Taking a job far beyond your capabilities would result in your death, so you had to ascertain whether a reward was worth putting your life in the line. However, the Dwarf seemed to see something I did not, as he snorted.

“The problem is, Miss, that people are idiots.”

“That’s… rude,” I said, unable to bring myself to disagree with him.

“But it’s also true. And that’s why I believe the Hunters Guild should implement a ranking system for both their Hunters, and the Monsters they are supposed to hunt.”

“Like some sort of tier list?”

“Exactly.” The Dwarf snapped his fingers, glad that I was finally catching on to his idea. “I propose that Hunters are to be sorted based on the threat of the Monsters they are capable of dealing with. A range that goes starts from the Rank, F, and goes as high up as to A Rank for regular Monsters. And then there’s an S Rank reserved for special Monsters.”

A voice piped up from the side.

“That’s a stupid idea, Gennady, and you know it!”

“Oi, shut it John. Nobody was talking to you!” Gennady shouted back. He shook his head, muttering an oath under his breath.

“I… see,” I said, nodding my head slightly. “I think I get what you’re saying. But why must we rank things… alphabetically?”

That almost seemed silly to me; it was like getting a grade in a classroom, which almost downplayed how dangerous some of these Monsters were supposed to be.

“Hmph, I could’ve ranked things numerically, but that only makes it worse. And I did think about ranking them in another way, starting from bronze, and going up to platinum— like how coins worked. But the small range becomes an issue. With only four ranks, it would vastly over inflate the middle two. And while stretching it out to seven may not fully solve this problem, it does mitigate it somewhat.”

“I think I get what you’re saying here.”

“Then you’re as much of an idiot as he is!”

I narrowed my eyes, and looked at the Hunter who yelled that. “What’s wrong with his idea?”

“It’s stupid!” the man said, taking a swig of ale. “If someone is put in a lower rank— like say, E— they’ll be stuck taking lower paying jobs, and can’t even take a higher one to prove themselves! It leaves all the good jobs to only a group of elite snobs.”

Gennady reached for his own cup of ale, but stopped when he realized his drink still had not been served. He yelled at a server before yelling at the other Hunter.

“Just because someone’s in Rank E doesn’t mean they can’t go up in rank, ye bloody moron. And it’s not like you even do any of the dangerous jobs, so quit yer yapping!”

The Dwarf’s accent seemed to return as he argued with the other Hunters in the room.

The two argued for another minute until the other man had to be brought away by his buddies before they got into a fight. To be honest, both sides made good points that made sense to me.

A system like what Gennady was suggesting would have maybe saved some lives from being lost unnecessarily, but it would also force some Hunters from getting access to better paying jobs; equipment meant a lot to Hunters, which could have allowed them to face tougher Monsters, and that was reliant on making money in the first place. Yet, Hunters taking jobs too dangerous for them was a problem too, so there were clear issues with both systems.

I had no qualms in the argument (since I literally just got here) so I said nothing. Once the other Hunter was brought out of the guild, Gennady sighed. “Whatever, it’s not like any of this matters since this system isn’t a thing just yet. I came here to ask you about the Chimera, Miss.”

“Oh, right. What did you want to know?”

“Alright, so I’ve read up about the abilities of a Chimera, and I’ve heard stories about Hunters who go up to the Incen Mountain Range just to hunt them down and sell them off for gold. I know there are rich nobles willing to buy those for… 15 gold? Depending on how undamaged their bodies are, of course.”

“Wait, but I’m getting paid less than that for killing it,” I pointed out.

“Of course you are. You’re getting paid for exterminating it, not for selling off its body. The Hunters Guild only pays people for killing Monsters that are a threat to settlements, and not those minding their own business in their natural habitat. But they can’t stop anyone from going out there and making some money for themselves. Although considering you only brought back its head— and from what I heard, it was in a terrible state— I don’t think anyone would be willing to even buy that for a gold piece.”

Gennady chuckled, finally taking a sip from his drink.

“Goddess, this tastes like shit.” He grimaced, pulling the mug away from his face. “Well anyways, I wanted to take down this Chimera myself, but even after days of hunting it, it never once attacked me. Although Chimeras tend to be cowards, only attacking whatever they think they can kill without a problem. And considering the size of you, it probably thought you were easy prey, and I was not. Too bad for it, it’s dead now.”

“Mhm, they’re pretty stupid,” I agreed, not touching my drink for obvious reasons.

“So what do you think?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“What rank do you think they should be?” the Dwarf said, leaning over to me. “I’ve never fought one, so I’ve been torn between putting them between Rank D and Rank C in my bestiary, see?”

He began flipping through his large book, stopping at a page that had the drawing of a Chimera.

“I’ve written down their strengths and weaknesses. And while they have a lot of strengths, they also have a lot of weaknesses. So they’re pretty balanced— any Hunter with the right equipment could take down a Chimera if it attacks them recklessly. They’re not fast, and they’re not anywhere near as strong as even a Horned Wolf. But they sneak up on you, and they have several abilities that make them dangerous to anyone who’s caught off guard. Which was what happened to those two poor Hunters who tried to hunt the Chimera down by themselves. So that makes me want to put them down as a Rank C, see? Because they’ve got strategy.”

“Uh,” I hesitated, listening to his explanations of things I barely even understood; not sure what to say, I shrugged. “I don’t know? What even is a Rank D or C Monster even supposed to be in your book?”

Gennady paused, then brought a hand up to his forehead. “Right, I forgot to explain that.”

The Dwarf inhaled deeply, and began to list out all the different Monsters he considered fitting for each rank. And since I barely even knew a thing about Monsters, it was not extremely helpful.

“So F Rank Monsters are the weakest ones. They’re Horned Rabbits or individual Kobolds— not a threat to most Hunters. E Rank Monsters would be a pack of Kobolds, since those pests always group up together, or Frogzards. D Rank Monsters would be Crawlers— giant spiders that would eat you in your sleep— while C Rank would be Horned Wolves. B Rank threats are entire swarms of Giant Wasps— you don’t want to run into those, they’ll tear entire towns apart— and an A Rank Monster would be something like a Horned Ursa or a Manticore.”

“How about an S Rank Monster? You said those are special?”

“Yes. Those would be like Krakens or Hydras. Incredibly rare and incredibly powerful too. But there’s even something above that.”

“Above?” I asked, cocking a brow. “But you said your range only goes up to S.”

“Well, yes. Because these Monsters are myths. Legends. You only hear stories about them— tales of the widespread destruction they have wrought whenever they appeared in history. Entire countries brought to ruin. There are three, have you heard of them?”

I scratched the side of my head. “I can’t say I have.”

“Huh, that’s odd. I’d have assumed that most people would know about these three creatures. You must come from a really sheltered environment,” Gennady remarked, taking a swig from his ale before coughing.

“I’m not sheltered,” I said, folding my arms. “My mom taught me everything I needed to know that was important. Why would these dumb stories even matter?”

“Ah, you see, that’s because they aren’t just stories. I can’t tell you everything about them right now, but the three are: the Dragon, ruler of the sky, and guardian of Drake Island; the Ouroboros, keeper of the earth, and the destroyer of civilizations; and lastly, the Cetus, master of the sea, and bringer of storms.”

“Those are some fancy titles for a couple of Monsters.”

“They really are, but they befit their status. The Cetus is a force of nature. Some believe it causes hurricanes and tsunamis, but the commonly held belief is that it simply follows where the winds and tides calls it to. The Ourobors meanwhile, is a chaotic beast. It does not abide by any rules, and brings destruction whenever it chooses to strike next, coming out from its home in the mountains. Finally, the Dragon is seen as a protector of civilization. It is worshipped as the progenitor of the Drakes, and defends them from any peoples that threaten their society.”

“Wait, the Drakes worship Dragons?” I asked, mouth hanging agape beneath my mask. “Isn’t that… heresy?”

“No. Why would that be?” Gennady stared back at me, confused at my confusion.

“But isn’t the Goddess the one that… saved us all? She saved all life from eternal suffering?”

“Yes. The Goddess of Light freed us from damnation, and that includes the Dragon, which went on to create the Drakes. Or at least, that’s what the Drakes seem to believe. I think it’s a bunch of crap, and the Dragon is just a Monster that is defending its territory which the Drakes just so happen to live in.”

“What does the Church think?”

“The Church chooses not to confirm or deny anything regarding this. They say it’s not in their canon, but it is possible.” The Dwarf waved a hand dismissively. “If you ask me, however, I don’t think the Church likes it. Although I don’t think they like the Drakes in general, since, you know, they never once supported either side during all the Holy Wars.”

“Right,” I said, pretending that I knew that all along and this was not complete news to me. “So those are these three ‘beyond S Rank’ Monsters?”

“Yes.They’re supposedly ‘myths’, as in there is no verifiable evidence of them other than some records— no pictures or anything of the like. But if you ask me, I believe they’re real. Or at least, I know one of them is.” He winked at me, as he closed his book shut.

“That’s terrifying,” I commented.

“They are supposed to be.”

“No, I mean that’s actually scary. Shouldn’t there be a hazard warning for that before I applied to become a Hunter? Because I’m starting to feel like this job is too much for me now.”

I exhaled deeply as I slumped over on my chair. I just want to make some money, for God’s sake! I’m tired of being unemployed!

Gennady chortled. “Hah, don’t worry. If you ever meet even a single one of these three beasts, I’d consider you the unluckiest gal in the world. Anyways, warning? That’s what I’m here for— to make this official.” The Dwarf proudly held his bestiary up.

“I don’t see how a book could save me when a Monster that can wipe out entire cities attacks me,” I said fatalistically. But it was a deserved fatalism, since I knew how horribly wrong things could go for me whenever that false god willed it.

“It won’t save you, but this can save others from getting themselves killed. So tell me, lass, what do you think? Where do you think a Chimera would rank? C? D? Or maybe somewhere else?”

“I—”

“Excuse me, Miss. The Guild Master is looking for you,” an employee of the Hunters Guild called out to me.

“Oh,” I said, head snapping up. “Looks like I’ve got to go. Sorry that I can’t help you.” I got up from my chair and backed away slowly.

“Hey, wait!” Gennady stood up, grabbing my hand. “You didn’t give me an answer.”

I tried pulling my arm away from him, but he locked his grip around my wrists; I would have pulled even harder, but I was afraid of getting injured. He was genuinely strong— which was not unexpected, considering he was built like a miniature strongman.

“Please, let me go,” I asked nicely, lowering a hand to my side.

“Hmph, you’re quite strong. But I won’t until you tell me whether you think a Chimera should be a D Rank threat or C Rank threat.”

I stared back at the Dwarf, and I realized he was serious. My free hand hovered over the hilt of my dagger for a moment, before I threw it up in the air.

“Ugh, fine! If you want to know so bad, make it D Rank, ok?”

I felt his grip loosen, and immediately took a step back.

“And why’s that?”

“It’s D Rank because it’s a Dumb Monster, that’s why!”

I stuck a tongue out at the Dwarf, before realizing I was masked and he could not see it. He did not like my explanation, and began to protest, but at that point, I was already walking away.

That was boring, I thought to myself. Informative, but boring. Just like learning always is.

However, thanks to that Dwarf, I managed to pass the time doing something. It certainly was far better than staring at a wooden wall for a few hours. And now, it was time for me to get licensed as a Hunter.

…wait, he’s a Dwarf.

The realization hit me as my palm smacked my head: I was supposed to be going to a Dwarf country— the Taw Kingdom. If he was from there, I could have prodded him for some information on how things worked there, and if Felix was actually telling the truth or not.

Or maybe it was better that I didn’t ask. After all, I didn’t want to assume every Dwarf was from the same place (since that was probably racist), right?

---

Previous Chapter Next Chapter