The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

#3 Newbie Adventurer Bern – The Red-Haired Adventurer + Illustration Added (01/28)

#3 Newbie Adventurer Bern – The Red-Haired Adventurer

The strength of governmental authority and the prosperity of the adventurer trade are inversely proportional.

If a country is functioning properly and its soldiers can maintain law and order effectively, then the occupation of adventurer can’t exactly thrive in the first place.

The military periodically exterminates dangerous monsters, and the guards deal with criminals who disrupt the peace, so there’s no particular need for adventurers.

No, beyond not needing them, they’re actually a hindrance.

After all, a force of arms that the nation finds difficult to control – in some cases, completely uncontrollable – acts according to its own rules and regulations within the country.

In that sense, the Kingdom of Birka was a very good country for adventurers to operate in.

In other words, it was a chaotic nation where the royal family was failing to perform its duties.

The King and the court nobles were mired in pleasure and driven by greed, neglecting the care of the nation, and the local lords were mostly the same, with only a few exceptions.

Stability over progress. Conservatism over reform.

Rather than competing fiercely with others, vying for ability and ambition, they simply banded together and colluded amongst themselves.

A lapse in public safety was taken as a given, and to fill that void, adventurers and the guild system developed.

As the bards sang, ‘The Land of Adventurers’.

Chasers of instant fortunes and towering fame flocked from both the homeland and overseas to beat upon the Adventurer’s Guild doors, and, much to the guild’s dismay, a hefty portion turned out to be utter dregs.

“What? Sewer rat extermination? Listen, do you think I trekked all the way up here just to swat rats? Give me a proper quest!”

A whiner, demanding high-paying, top-tier commissions despite having no accomplishments to show for it.

“Hey! The reward was supposed to be two silver coins! Why are you only giving me five copper! Because I got drunk and broke a village lad’s leg? No, that’s ’cause the little punk was being mouthy!”

A thug, receiving a penalty for causing trouble, and then, instead of showing remorse, flying into a rage and bellowing.

“Listen here, this body is on a first-name basis with the heir of the Jenster Barony, you hear? So you better treat me right—”

A braggart, flaunting his supposed connection to someone important, expecting preferential treatment.

“Tch! Just ’cause I’m being reasonable doesn’t mean you can take me for a fool, eh? Who do you think you’re being rude to!! Huh? Let go! Won’t let go? Aagh! aaagh!”

A numbskull, not knowing his own abilities or place, spitting on the guild floor and making pathetic threats before getting pummeled by the guild guards.

Each day brought something new, and with each experience of these wretched parades of humanity, the stress levels of the guild receptionists soared to new heights. Some even began to view adventurers as criminals.

Which wasn’t entirely inaccurate, considering that many adventurers were either former or prospective criminals.

The face of the Adventurer’s Guild. For those blossoms blooming in the harsh, rugged industry, such hardships were simply part of the bargain.

“…So, you’re telling me to become a receptionist?”

But, even so, wasn’t this a bit much?

Blanca, a mid-level adventurer nearing her third year, couldn’t conceal the look of disbelief as she stared at the woman before her.

She thought that was enough to convey her dissatisfaction and resistance, but the manager overseeing the receptionists of the Adventurer’s Guild Eastern Branch didn’t even blink, and continued.

“Yes. Just for a month, no more, no less. By then, Bellona, who collapsed from illness, should have recovered and returned.”

“But, in that case, you should just hire a new receptionist. Why are you bothering me, an adventurer?”

“Five.”

“Pardon?”

“Five of them, fled outright, sick of dealing with those good-for-nothing adventurer types.”

The Guildmaster exhaled, puffing on his pipe as if the very thought exasperated him.

“Adventurers…they look down their noses at receptionists, the ones who actually *do* the paperwork. They don’t appreciate how rare it is to find someone who can read and write, communicate effectively, maintain enough credibility to not tarnish the Guild’s name, *and* handle the adventurers’ outrageous demands without wilting. A genuine talent, that is.”

“I *am* one of those adventurers, you know.”

“All the better. You won’t be some shrinking violet like those others who ran off crying, saying they couldn’t take it anymore. And you can write, have a degree of sophistication rare amongst the uncouth lot, and a handsome face to boot. Truly optimized receptionist material, you are.”

*Tap*. The Guildmaster knocked the pipe’s dottle against the ashtray.

“Besides, things haven’t been looking too good for you lately, Blanca. Your precious staff broke, and needs to be replaced, and the Guild’s loan needs to be repaid. We’re not hounding you like the others, not after all your successes here. But there are limits, you understand.”

“Ugh.”

Blanca swallowed a groan.

The Guildmaster’s words might have sounded like, ‘we’re being considerate of you,’ but the intention behind uttering them at *this* particular juncture was painfully clear.

Refusal meant no more consideration. It meant they’d start chasing her down for repayment of the principal, just like they did the other adventurers.

Realizing she had no real choice, Blanca sighed deeply.

“…Alright. One month, right?”

“Yes, yes. The pay’s not bad.”

– *At least, it’s better than what you’re earning now.*

Blanca felt those unspoken words pierce her ear, and she couldn’t help but make a face as if she had bitten into something foul.

*

It grated on her nerves immensely, but as the Guildmaster had stated, Blanca *did* have a knack for reception work.

“Yes. This is a return. I can’t accept this, please gather them again.”

“What!? I collected ten Skybright Herb roots, exactly as requested!”

“This one snapped clean in the middle, this one’s got all its little branches torn off, and this one’s just plain shriveled up. I told you, when digging up roots, don’t just yank them out by force. You need to scoop up the surrounding soil too!”

“No, I never heard that!”

“If that’s how you remember it, then that’s how you remember it. For you, anyway. Bottom line, five out of ten are rejects, so I can’t accept them. Go fill out your quota and come back.”

“I wasted a whole day gathering these! You want me to spend another half-day doing the same thing? Instead, how about you just give me half the payment!”

“This isn’t a shop, and we don’t haggle here. Leave before I call the guild guards. Besides, it’s not like you only gathered roots. You must have collected other things too, so it’s not like you earned nothing, right?”

“…Tch.”

Adventurer ranks were divided into seven grades, from the lowest 1 to the highest 7. Blanka was a veteran who had steadily climbed from the bottom to rank 3.

Considering that more than half of the challengers who set foot in the guild, hoping to become adventurers, disappeared without even reaching rank 2, it was a position that carried significant weight.

Her experience of directly witnessing how adventurers acted, what tricks they used on which requests, what they disliked, and how much they could tolerate, was something other receptionists, who only learned about adventurers through knowledge, could hardly grasp.

She had the nerve to not even bat an eye at most threats or taunts, and the strength to subdue an opponent on her own without calling the guild guards if necessary.

The bureau chief seemed extremely satisfied with her work, and the other receptionists subtly hinted that they wanted her to remain as a receptionist.

Clink, clink. Watching the coins fill her pouch at the end of each week, Blanka felt deeply conflicted.

It wasn’t more than what she used to earn when she was a successful rank 3 adventurer.

But unlike the irregular income of an adventurer, the receptionist position offered stability, and in Blanka’s case, due to a certain incident that had damaged her primary equipment and left her in debt, she was unable to properly fulfill requests. The difference felt painfully real.

Maybe continuing to live as a receptionist wouldn’t be so bad.

No, that would probably be the wisest choice.

Even if an adventurer gained experience, there were few tangible benefits. Only age piled up. But once affiliated with the guild as an employee, there was a possibility of rising to a high position within the organization.

Wasn’t the bureau chief who hired her a perfect example of that?

Even knowing that, Blanka couldn’t easily make a decision.

Unlike her reason, which advised her to finally face reality, the goal that remained deep within her heart clung to her like a sticky residue, refusing to let her go.

“Hoh…”

Then came a day.

It was when Blanca’s temporary contract had precisely ten days remaining that the figure of a certain youth caught her eye.

His apparent age was somewhere in his late teens.

A mop of crimson hair, bright eyes darting this way and that, observing the guild interior with evident wonder.

A textbook aspiring adventurer, drawing snickers of amusement from here and there.

Whether he was oblivious to the gazes around him, a mixture of fondness and ridicule, the red-haired youth strode confidently to the reception desk – to where Blanca sat – and spoke.

“I wish to become an adventurer. What must I do?”

“Hmm.”

Blanca surveyed the youth once more.

Simple, easy-to-move-in leather armor. A plain, unadorned iron sword.

Considering that the cheapest equipment one could buy in the shops was a layered cloth gambeson and a roughly hewn wooden club, the youth’s gear was somewhat more presentable.

Meaning, he hadn’t arrived at the guild with nothing, clinging to it as a last resort, but rather, had come with a certain degree of preparation.

Adding in his rather refined features…

‘…Some noble, or perhaps the third son of a wealthy merchant family?’

After a quick assessment, Blanca questioned the youth.

“To register as an adventurer, you need to pay five copper coins. Do you have them?”

The youth wordlessly produced the coins and offered them, and Blanca took up a pen and paper.

Because few adventurers could read or write, the system was set up so that the receptionists would fill out the paperwork for them.

“Name?”

“Bern.”

“Place of origin?”

“A village in the southern fringes of the Eisen Empire.”

“Doesn’t it have a name, that village?”

“Within the village, there was no specific name we used. What those around us called it, I wouldn’t know.”

Not common, but neither was it rare.

To begin with, there were so many cases of people lightly falsifying their origins, the Guild didn’t manage things down to such fine details.

“Special skills?”

“I can handle a sword, somewhat.”

“Hunting experience?”

“On my way here, I managed to snare a rabbit, would that be acknowledged?”

From a corner of the Guild, a few mischievous adventurers burst into laughter.

“Oh, a rabbit! A truly fearsome foe indeed! After stewing it and gorging oneself, it makes even the most skilled fall into a drowsy slumber!”

“Don’t be like that. Better than that fellow who boasted he’d taken down wolves bigger than himself, only to wet his trousers and flee when the hunt actually began, eh?”

“That’s the truth. Honesty is a virtue, after all!”

Despite the snickering ridicule, the young man didn’t show anger.

Instead, he merely looked at them with eyes that seemed to regard something curious.

Blanca sighed.

“Pay them no mind. If you reacted to every little thing like that, you wouldn’t last a day as an adventurer.”

“Ah, yes. To be honest, it’s rather amusing.”

“…?”

A strange answer, somehow. Blanka felt a prickle of unease, but spoke to the young man nonetheless.

“You’re registered as a Rank 1 Adventurer. From now on, you can officially accept requests from the Guild. Once we judge that you’ve accumulated sufficient achievements, you’ll be promoted to Rank 2. That’s when you’ll be issued an Adventurer’s Badge as well. Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“Are there any requests I can take on immediately?”

“Sewer cleaning, weed pulling, warehouse cargo organization. Choose one.”

As she rattled off the options, Blanka felt a familiar weariness settle over her. This moment was usually when new adventurers protested the most. Dirty, exhausting, and utterly unglamorous work. And the pay? Miserly. These fresh recruits, lured to the Guild by the embellished tales of roaming bards, rarely took kindly to the reality of the tasks presented to them. Especially if they were confident in their own abilities.

So, Blanka was already mentally preparing her soothing speech, figuring out how to sweeten the deal for the young man…

“Then I’ll start with organizing the warehouse.”

“…Huh?”

“The warehouse organization.”

“Oh, uh, yes. Go outside the Guild and head west. You’ll see a building with gray walls. There’ll be a man there with a burn scar on his cheek. Just do as he tells you, and don’t forget to get a mark to prove you finished the job.”

“Understood.”

The young man, Vern, strolled out of the Guild without further ado, disappearing from sight.

Those who had been anticipating the usual squabble between a naive adventurer and a seasoned receptionist grumbled about the newcomer’s lack of spirit, but quickly forgot about Vern and moved on to other topics. They’d likely continue like this until a new request arrived that piqued their interest.

Blanka felt a curious unease linger, but shrugged it off.

In any case, if he was obedient, it was all the same to her. A good thing, even.

And about thirty minutes later.

“Greetings.”

“Huh? What is this. Don’t tell me you gave up and came back?”

“No, I finished everything and returned. Here is the proof.”

“?????”

Blanca’s head filled with question marks. Vern, presenting proof that he’d finished a task that usually took a minimum of two hours, and easily exceeded six on busy days, in a mere thirty minutes.