NOVEL NEXT Chapter 148: An Unbelievable Haul
The heavy thud of boots echoed down the staircase as the guild manager came storming down, his face red with fury.
"You're telling me," he barked at the nervous clerk trailing behind him, "that one single party wiped out an entire orc village? Do you take me for a fool?!"
The clerk paled, wringing his hands.
"S-Sir, I wouldn't dare lie! Even I thought it impossible, but… b-but that man, he—he dragged back every single corpse. Nearly a hundred of them!"
The manager stopped in his tracks, veins throbbing at his temple.
"One hundred?! Do you think saying an even more absurd number will make me believe you? Idiot!"
But the stench hit him before he reached the backroom—the acrid, metallic tang of blood, so strong it curled at the back of the throat. By the time he pushed the door open, his anger had withered into stunned silence.
The room was stacked with corpses. Rows upon rows of brutish green bodies piled high, their tusked mouths frozen in snarls. Fresh blood leaked across the stone floor, congealing in ugly streaks. Guild employees gagged and covered their noses with cloth as they struggled to separate and count the kills.
And at the center of it all stood a man in tattered, bloodstained attire—calm and composed, his back straight as a spear. Two young women flanked him, one with blue hair like starlight, the other with eyes sharp as flame.
The manager's eyes widened further when he noticed the hulking carcass lying in four grotesque pieces at the far end of the pile. The creature was nearly twice the size of any ordinary orc, its musclebound frame butchered with brutal precision. Recognition sent a chill down his spine.
"A-An Orc Warlord…!" he stammered, his voice cracking. "That's… that's an A-rank monster!"
A monster like that could tear through entire parties of seasoned adventurers—and yet this man had not only defeated it but brought back its remains. The manager's mind raced. Whoever this adventurer was, he was no ordinary fighter. Establishing a connection is vital, he realized. If I let him slip away, the guild will lose more than just business.
Wiping the sweat from his palms, he approached cautiously, lowering his voice.
"Good evening, sir."
The man turned slightly, his gaze steady and unbothered. "Ethan."
The guild manager dipped his head respectfully. "Sir Ethan… forgive my bluntness, but may I confirm—was it truly you who killed the Orc Warlord?"
"Yes," Ethan replied simply.
The manager's eyes lit up, admiration gleaming behind his spectacles. He clasped his hands together and forced a professional smile.
"Then, Sir Ethan, might I suggest we move somewhere more comfortable while my staff completes the count?" He gestured toward a side chamber, trying not to sound desperate. "We can discuss matters privately."
Ethan gave a small nod. "Alright."
Inside the quiet room, the heavy scent of blood was left behind. Ethan lowered himself onto the couch, the leather creaking under his weight. Lirael and Sylvie settled beside him, one on each side like silent sentinels. The manager glanced at the unusual seating arrangement but wisely chose not to comment.
"By the time they finish tallying the corpses," the manager began, pouring two cups of spiced tea, "perhaps we can talk business?"
Ethan raised a brow but gestured for him to continue.
"Sir Ethan, may I ask—do you already have a contracted merchant who handles your monster spoils?"
"Yes. Recently, I signed with the Kettlemore family."
At that, the manager's smile faltered, the brightness in his eyes dimming ever so slightly. Still, he pressed on, his tone slick with practiced diplomacy.
"I see… a wise choice, no doubt. However, the guild would be honored to also act as your buyer. No hidden fees, no inflated prices—only the fair cost of raw materials. We would never ask you to annul your existing contract with the Kettlemores. Rather, we'd ask for equal preference in your dealings."
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
"And, should you accept, we will grant you VIP status within the guild. Priority access. Your requests processed before any others. You would have the guild's full weight at your back."
Ethan leaned back against the couch, thoughtful, while Lirael crossed her arms and Sylvie's lips curved into a faint, proud smile.
"…That is a good deal," Ethan said at last. "I accept."
The manager's relief was visible—his shoulders sagged and his face lit up with satisfaction.
"Marvelous! Then let us finalize it at once. And, of course… I presume these orc corpses will be sold to the guild as well?"
"Yes."
The manager almost clapped his hands in delight but restrained himself, his voice swelling with cheer.
"Excellent, excellent. Then let us begin the paperwork at once!"
The wheels of opportunity had begun to turn.
The scratch of quills filled the quiet chamber as documents slid across the polished desk. Ethan's name inked the parchment in firm strokes, his expression calm as ever.
The guild manager, meanwhile, was stealing glances at the registration cards laid neatly at the side of the table. When his eyes fell upon the engraved ranks, his composure nearly shattered.
B-rank. C-rank. F-rank.
His lips parted in disbelief. What…? Impossible. A man who felled an Orc Warlord… and his companions who helped him… with these ranks?! He almost blurted it aloud but clamped his mouth shut, beads of sweat pricking his temple.
Ethan, noticing his hesitation, looked up with a knowing smile.
"Yes. You must be wondering." He tapped his own card lightly. "I'm B-rank. But my strength… grew explosively thanks to my talent. That's how I was able to defeat the Orc Warlord." Lirael had said him that this excuse will always work if his strenght is doubt as talents are rare and less known.
The manager froze, caught in his own thoughts, while Ethan continued smoothly.
"The same is true for my companions. Lirael has only just begun her rise, and as for Sylvie…" He glanced toward the girl, who stiffened shyly under his gaze. "She has strength of her own. She simply registered too recently to reflect it."
The manager leaned back, his mind racing. "A… talent holder," he whispered, voice trailing off. A rarity.
Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly. "That brings me to something, Sir Guildmanager. Being far stronger than my rank suggests… is troublesome. People doubt, provoke, or underestimate. I wonder… can the guild do something about that?"
The implication struck like a hammer. The manager straightened, realizing exactly what Ethan was asking for. A promotion. Direct… and immediate.
His decision was made in a heartbeat. If this man leaves without being secured, the guild loses everything. Better to invest heavily now.
"Yes, of course," he said smoothly, folding his hands with a smile that masked his racing heart. "How about this? Sir Ethan shall be promoted directly to A-rank. Lady Lirael to B-rank. And Lady Sylvie to C-rank. No tests or delays—I will personally guarantee it. Consider it an additional gesture of goodwill, on top of our contract."
Lirael blinked in surprise, while Sylvie's eyes widened, lips forming a small oh. Ethan, however, allowed himself a rare grin.
"That is exactly what I hoped for. An A-rank badge will keep away unnecessary pests. I'll remember this favor."
The manager's heart leapt at those words. Remember this favor…! If I tie this man to the guild, my influence will soar within the guild...maybe I might even get promoted to Guildmaster.
He wasted no time. With the full weight of his authority, he summoned the badges at once. Attendants hurried in, carrying them on velvet trays:
A golden badge, gleaming beneath the lamplight, its edges trimmed with faintly glowing crystal—an unmistakable mark of VIP status. Ethan took it in hand, the metal cool and heavy, a quiet power radiating from it.
For Lirael, a sleek silver badge denoting B-rank, polished to a sheen. For Sylvie, a simpler iron C-rank plate, but her eyes sparkled as she cradled it like a treasure.
Both women accepted them with cheerful smiles, their earlier exhaustion forgotten.
"Wonderful," the manager said, his voice rich with satisfaction. "Now, the matter of your payment…"