The clerk glanced up at Leon with an inquisitive look, before recognizing him and getting his desk in order. It had been a month since Leon’s first mission, since he had almost died and lost all his coin paying back the debt he had incurred as a result. In that time, he had had to take on more and more demeaning jobs just to maintain a roof over his head. As a side effect, he had reached bronze-tier relatively quickly; although much to his dismay, that did not improve the quality of his missions.

  Reaching into his breastplate to pull out the job missive, he handed it to the clerk. It had been another mission helping some farmers expand their fenceline, his third non-combative focused mission this week. Unlike the previous two, however, this one was an exclusively bronze-tier mission. There had been reports of dangerous monsters stalking around the area of the farm; he had not had the pleasure to have a run in with them, though.

  No, the only monsters that had harassed him were some small groups of banivs that he had dispatched with ease. Handing over the proof of their deaths with his missive, he claimed the general bounty and sighed when nine silver was handed over to him—six for the mission and then three for the ten dead banivs.

  “I saw someone had taken the gnoll subjugtion mission. Are they looking for assistance?” he asked the clerk in trepidation.

  The cruel truth of the matter was that he could not take on any of the better missions without a team to assist him. He was stronger than probably around half the bronze-tiers at the Guild, but taking on the larger or stronger monsters required teammates, and he knew all too well what would happen if he just settled for anyone.

  “They were, but the group has already been filled up.”

  The clerk shrugged apologetically, but the sentiment was not quite there in his voice. Leon sighed. He thanked the man for the reward before looking out over those in the Guild.

  There had been attempts to recruit a team after achieving bronze-tier, but there were never many willing to work with him. Apparently, he had earned something of a reputation, a bad one at that. It was to the point where the only ones willing to join his missions were those recently out of initiation, and even they had quickly shunned him after around a week in the Guild. Nevermind anyone in the bronze-tier joining a mission with him. It was not as if he would accept working with any unranked either way. The fiasco of his first mission left it clear that he would need professionals to assist him.

  “Did’ya hear? The Katiine and that new kid managed to wipe out a horde of banivs. Word is around twenty to thirty!” The conversation at a nearby table drew Leon’s ears.

  “And? Don’t leave me in suspense, man. What did Rayne pull this time?” one of the other adventurers at the table asked eagerly. All of them were leaning in to hear the story with anticipation.

  “Apparently, he lured them into a cave they had stacked with dry grass and leaves then set fire to the lot. His team just camped out at the entrance and killed any of the little bastards who tried to run.”

  The group erupted in laughter at the conclusion, too busy in their cheer to notice Leon having eavesdropped on the story. He left while they were laughing, none too eager to add stalker to the list of whatever else he had done.

  There had been much talk for Leon to overhear about the duo since they had saved him. Rayne’s unorthodox tactics in particular had become the talking point of many adventurers.

  They continue to gain notoriety for the simplest of feats, while I am condemned to infamy merely because of the lies of commoners. He sighed as the thought passed his mind. Life was unfair.

  The duo would have made good teammates, he felt, Syra perhaps more than Rayne. The boy’s strategies were interesting, but they would also be somewhat unnecessary in a party with Leon, not to mention unhonourable. It was always possible, however, that such a strategic mind could flourish with a team that could actually fight, rather than being forced to come up with tactics because they were too weak.

  It was a futile notion, however. The two of them were good, but he did not want them on his team. It would be difficult to respect their leader if their first impression of him was as a bloody mess. For all he was aware, they might not even want to team up with him. Perhaps they too had fallen for whatever slander had taken hold of his name…

  The idea was an oddly distressing one; that those who had aided him might hold him in such disregard had caused him to pause on his way to his training spot. He could still distinctly remember Syra holding him upright and Rayne applying a soothing balm to his wounds.

  Surely they do not hate me as well. Right? No, they have met me, they know me better than whatever rumors there are…

  He shook the anxious thoughts from his head. What did it matter if they hated him too? Just two more commoners falling to the gossip of petty freeloaders. Turning his mind to other matters, he made his way to the bridge that he trained under.

  That was how he had spent many of his days in the past month. After he finished a mission, it would be too late to take on another before dark, and he could not take on missions spanning multiple days without a team. This left him with ample free time in the evening. He typically alternated between physical training and spending time at the library studying.

  It had been a trying month doing such mundane missions, but he made sure to research more useful skills for when the time would come for better missions. The encounter he had had with the goblins had been particularly illuminating, showcasing the need to learn some techniques for tracking and basic first aid. It was impossible to say if he was yet adept at the execution of what he had learned, but he felt that the books would give him a good enough foundation. Around half his time at the library, however, was spent researching monster languages and cultures, a significantly more fascinating topic than trying to learn job skills.

  There was not much information on the cultures or languages of many monsters, details typically focused on weak spots or immunities. From what little he gleaned, goblins spoke in some sort of orcish dialect, so that was what he studied. There was a lacking selection on the orcish language at the library he frequented, and so he often found himself making the rather long and nostalgic trek to the Noble Quarter of the city a common occurrence. The librarians of those in the wealthy parts were averse to loaning him out their books on any subject. This forced him to spend all day at the library learning orcish, and so he picked days where a good mission was not available.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The orcish alphabet was different to the common tongue that he knew, which itself was based on elvish script. There was little to no resemblance between the two, and he had spent most of his time learning to differentiate each letter and pronouncing them. Whether he was properly pronouncing them was an issue he was unable to address as Torid seemed to lack any who might be considered an authority on orcish culture or language. The Academy may have had someone who could help him, but he lacked the coin, and more importantly the status, to even step foot onto the compound.

  He shook his head as he reached the bridge that he trained under. Today was not a day for studying no matter how much he may have wanted to; it was important to maintain his physical training after all. At this point, he no longer even needed to use the training manual of his father; he had the core exercises memorized, and simply assumed the position.

  Ever since his first mission, he had been putting an emphasis on constitution training as a precaution. It helped that if he was going to continue being forced into solo jobs, then it would become his most important stat. With just himself to rely on, his constitution stat would help him stay upright without support and continue on without rest. It was a shame then that constitution was the most tiring skill to train. Strength and agility were all about short bursts of intense exercise while constitution was more endurance focused.

  So it was that he gathered the weights he had hidden around his underbridge training spot and took off, running through the streets of the dredges of Torid. He made sure to circulate his mana as instructed by the manual to maximize constitution growth while running. He received his fair share of strange looks, the denizens of the Dregs typically conflating an armored man to be the guard on a chase. It meant they gave him a wide berth, however, so he never complained.

  Inside his breastplate, he could hear a depressing lack of coins clinking against one another. Tomorrow he would need to take a mission if he wanted a proper meal, not to mention his rent payment was coming up, and all the equipment maintenance he was putting off. He groaned as the amount of coin kept piling further and further in his mind. He would need to find a well-paying job if he intended to maintain his current routine, and not have to take missions all week. His armor felt heavier as he continued his run, or perhaps it was the weight settling in his stomach.

  ~

  His eyes scanned over the board of bronze group missions looking for members. There were a few goblin subjugations that he skimmed over, a convoy escort or two with good coin that he considered, but before long, he spotted a direwolf subjugation. A proper bronze-tier monster for a fair reward, even when split four ways as the job seemed to offer. His eyes lit up as he read the description of the job before he came across the applicant section. He would need to meet with, and be chosen by, the adventurer in charge. His chest fell at the revelation, even as he looked towards the table the job told them to meet at.

  There was a small line at it, four adventurers waiting while a fifth sat and spoke to the person who seemed in charge of the mission. He was not an impressive looking man. In rough leather and a bow on his back, it was obvious he was not a front line fighter, but even then, the gear was somewhat cheap.

  Leon felt his spirits rise just a bit at his analysis. If he was stronger than the leader, and could provide tanking ability for the team, then his reputation should not hamper him joining. It would be foolish to give up such a potentially useful teammate just because of some rumors.

  As he made to approach the group, an idea struck, and he headed to a clerk instead. It would be better if he could put hard numbers to his credentials, rather than be forced to try and estimate his current skills.

  “I would like to assess my stats,” he told the clerk.

  She brought out the green orb wordlessly, and waited for him to do the process himself. Steeling his nerves, he placed his hand on the orb, and prepared for the distinct feeling that he knew would accompany it.

  [Leon]

  Strength - D (67/100)

  Agility - E (32/50)

  Dexterity - E (29/50)

  Constitution - E (48/50)

  Magic Power - F (Unawakened)

  It would have been better if his constitution had broken into D-rank, but his stats were still impressive as they were. He thanked the clerk as she put away the orb, and he made his way to stand in line for the direwolf job.

  The adventurers in line gave him dirty looks upon joining the back of their line, but he did his best to ignore them and stare steadfastly into the distance. It only took a few minutes for the four adventurers before him to go through their own interviews, of which only one seemed to have been accepted onto the team. As Leon made to sit down, the adventurer interviewing them held a hand out for him to stop.

  “You’re that noble knight fellah, aren’t ya?”

  Not quite knowing how to respond to such a question, he held his tongue. One of the adventurers who had been accepted onto the team gave the interviewer a nod though. That was all it took for the man to wave Leon off with a dismissive grunt.

  Unwilling to let go of the mission that easily, he protested. “I do not know what rumors you may have heard about me, but I can be of use on this mission. You are an archer, are you not?” Waiting for the man’s reluctant nod, Leon continued. “That means you shall be needing a frontliner. The mission says there are eight direwolves, that is two beasts per person. With you providing support in the back, someone will need to contend with an extra direwolf or two. I can do that.” He prayed that the desperation he felt was not evident in his voice.

  The other adventurer did not seem to care for Leon’s pleas, but to the leader’s credit, he did seem to consider it for a moment.

  “I am right at the cusp of D-rank in constitution, and I have proper armor. Put me front and center and I shall draw their attention. This mission would be a breeze.” He gave what he hoped was a confident smile to the man who was rubbing his chin in thought.

  Right as it seemed like the man might accept reason, the other adventurer leaned down to whisper something in his ear, and the man nodded along. His eyes became harder as he glared at Leon.

  “We’re good, the mission is going to be four equal shares. Don’t need someone trying to hog all the pelts.”

  Leon was left gobsmacked at the declaration. When had he insinuated he would try to take a larger share? He glared at the adventurer who had whispered into the man’s ear, and tried to place the face.

  What in the hells? I don’t even know who this guy is.

  He turned back to the interviewer, and softened his expression as he opened his mouth to defend himself.

  The man simply raised a hand forward to stop him. “None of that. Just get lost already.”

  He waved Leon off again, this time with more vitriol in the motion than he had previously. Leon wanted to shout at the man that he would accept an even share, that he was stupid for not taking him on when a tank was so clearly needed on the team. Instead, he stood and marched away from the table.

  Yelling at them would change nothing but make him even more despised in the Guild. He returned to the jobs board to look for more group missions, silently fuming the entire time