Isekai Dungeon Architect

'I don't understand the thought process of this person. He's just… so OP.'

Sir Exile, now done with his mental contemplation, pulled the parchment toward him and spoke again, voice returning to that calm authority. "Then let us conclude your evaluation."

'Right. There was something like that left.'

My stomach knotted the moment I recalled how I was here for the final test results instead of this heavy conversation.

'Here it comes.'

Reddy seemed pretty calm now that the other matter had passed, but for some reason, I was still getting more anxious.

The thought of the overall performance having an adverse effect on the results still lingered in my mind.

"Aria Solona," he read like a result announcer, "you are hereby recognized as a Support-class adventurer. Initial designation: Support role, Rank Seven."

"Huh?"

My jaw dropped as soon as the words fell on my ears. "Wait. Rank Seven?"

Rank-9 is where everyone starts. Some who are exceptional get to start from Rank-8. As Reddy had told me earlier, one needed a bunch of contribution points and quest clearances to advance in the rankings.

Each of the adventurer ranks directly corresponded with your strength and skill levels. Only those who had a year of dungeon experience and spent about a certain hours inside the dungeons could advance their ranks.

The higher the rank, the greater the skills. The main reason someone of Rank-3 or Rank-2 was in a high position throughout the world was simply due to their skills.

They had what it took to get those ranks; the Rank-1 wasn't reserved just for the top transcendental presences in the world for nothing.

'Rank-7 was not easy to get at all…'

Then, are my ears ringing? Did I really hear him right?

"Did you skip a number or something, sir?" I had to ask the question. The written test alone should not be the premise of their decision.

But Sir Exile's lips almost— almost— twitched.

"On the merit of your written and practical insight, you will begin at Rank Seven. Skipping Rank Nine and Eight."

I wanted to laugh, but my body had gone into stunned-goldfish mode.

But he wasn't even finished yet.

"In addition," Sir Exile reached for a small box on the desk, lifting its lid with exceptional care, "the Association awards you the Badge of Recognition."

Inside the small box nestled on velvet, gleamed a pin shaped like a star, its gold edges catching the mana light and scattering it in warm rays.

There was something special about this star, something that had made Reddy gasp aloud, something that made sense to her that I was still clueless about.

"This mark," he continued without minding our surprises, "will be etched on your Adventurer Identification as a golden star. It signifies exceptional talent, skills, or contribution to the field. Few earn it despite giving up their lives for it, some never get to see it, even after decades spent inside the dungeons."

The pin gleamed at me like it was cheering for me. It was attractive; that strange black-gold tone it had was something otherworldly in itself.

"…I just won an award," I whispered to myself, dumbfounded, "for… writing a glorified essay?"

My brain was a mess right now. Ethically, I should not be getting that award; the answers may have been written by us, but they weren't my own.

It just felt wrong to have it when I had only applied my otherworldly knowledge to this test. Was it my achievement that was being awarded, or was it the achievements of someone from a different world altogether?

People in this world bled for years in the dungeons to maybe, maybe, get a sniff of that recognition. But me? I'd tripped into it after bullshitting about arteries and panic distribution?

'I shouldn't…'

Sir Exile's gaze sharpened at my burdened look. "Do not mistake this for a gift, Young Miss. It is not a handout, it is not an attempt to carry favour with you in any way. It is a simple recognition: as the association regulations state, the achievements must be rewarded.

What you do from here will decide whether that star means something— or nothing at all."

I gave him a bitter salute, a weak smile still plastered on my lips. "I… understand. Guess I'll just have to live up to my own hype."

For the first time, something faint touched his expression. There was a ghost of a smile, and soon it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"The star grants various privileges that you can learn from Riddle later. However," he stopped for a moment and looked between the two of us, "do not flaunt the star if you do not want unwanted attention."

It wasn't just a suggestion; it was a warning as well. The two of us could only nod our heads sincerely in front of that heavy gaze.

"If you understand," he placed the box with the golden star, as well as a piece of parchment with a seal and his personal stamp, before us. "Then you may leave."

The test was over, and the result was announced. And with this, I was almost a full-fledged adventurer— or, to say myself, a Dungeon Architect in the skin of an adventurer.

"Teacher, I—." Ready was about to say something, but the association branch master shook his head firmly. "If you're a proxy, you should fulfill your role to the end. We can have a personal conversation when you're the Riddle I raised instead."

Giving her one last look, then giving me one last look that felt far gentler than any other time he had looked at either of us, he took out a few parchments from his desk and went back to his work.

"Aria." Riddle was worried at first, but she just sighed at this sight and pulled on the back of my hand.

"…"

I simply looked at her without words for a moment, then at the person on the desk, and after not understanding the situation even after a minute, I gave up, picked up the box and the parchment from his desk, came back, and we bid our goodbyes to him.

'I can tell we will be meeting pretty soon.'

But that meeting would be pretty different from this one… hopefully.

For now, dear Aria, you should party up to become the record-breaking genius to earn a gold star even before getting inside the actual dungeon.