The Ghost Knight King’s Dungeon Project

Ch. 11



Chapter 11: [Adventurer and Adventurer]

Sunlight poured down upon the streets of Thornfall Outpost, shining upon three particularly eye-catching figures.

Clang, clang.

The two-meter-tall armored figure marched forward like a moving fortress.

Such a towering warrior, though not exactly unheard of, was still a rare sight even in Thornfall Outpost—a city largely inhabited by adventurers and warriors.

Vendors by the roadside and passing pedestrians couldn’t help but turn their heads to look.

Leading the way in front was Randall.

Samael observed the man’s back carefully.

Randall was a capable young man with brown hair and chestnut eyes.

A small scar was faintly visible on his left forehead, half hidden beneath his bangs.

He wore light leather armor with simple breast and shoulder guards, and around his waist hung several pouches stuffed with tools.

A short blade, a longsword, and a quiver hung from his belt.

Most striking of all was the massive bow slung across his back—a robust, pitch-black longbow, its gnarled wood full of twisted knots.

The bowstring consisted of three strands of rubbery brown cords, each as thick as a pencil.

“Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Randall Ryska, a Rank-3 Adventurer as of last month. My class is Longbowman and Ranger, specializing in heavy archery and dual-blade combat. I mainly take on hunting, exploration, investigation, and other general missions.”

As Randall led the way, he spoke earnestly to the two knights walking behind him.

“I’m also the captain of the adventuring party... [Thornfall Outpost’s Scavenger Beast].” He paused awkwardly when mentioning the name.

“Our team includes myself, a Rank-2 Heavy Swordsman, a Rank-4 Assassin and Thief, a Rank-2 Apprentice Mage, and a Rank-1 Apprentice Alchemist.”

His face flushed red as he said the name.

Thaleia snorted—a muffled laugh escaping from beneath her helmet.

“That’s quite a... distinctive name, Brother Randall,” said Samael, who, to his credit, managed not to laugh.

“Sama... Samo,” Thaleia murmured, lowering her voice to explain, “Scavenger Beast is a colloquial term for the low-tier monster known as the Carrion Feeder. They eat trash, practically pure scavengers. Often living near large beasts, feeding on leftovers like wilderness cleaners. When alone, they’ll feed on corpses, vomit, and... excrement.”

In other words, the team name basically meant Trash-Eater, Super Dung Beetle, or Squad of Filth-Eaters.

Samael looked a little perplexed.

Could it be that this adventuring party had... some sort of eccentric hobby?

“F-Forgive the embarrassment,” Randall coughed awkwardly, his ears turning red.

“Brother Randall, why pick such a name?” Samael asked.

Among clerics, addressing each other as “Brother” or “Sister” was formal etiquette.

Yet Samael’s bright, cheerful tone made the title sound surprisingly warm.

“That’s because... according to adventurer tradition, new parties usually name themselves after their first completed mission,” Randall explained.

“When adventurers decide to team up and register, they’re still considered a temporary team, just given a number.”

“Only after completing their first mission and bringing back a trophy from it can they officially register the team name. This helps prevent random group-ups that end in internal conflict—the first mission serves as a trial run.”

“For example, if your first mission was to hunt a crimson Dragon-Gryphon, and you brought back one of its feathers, you could name your team [Thornfall Outpost’s Crimson Dragon-Gryphon] or [Thornfall Outpost’s Gryphon Feather].”

“If your first task was to drive away a pack of Devourer Beasts and you returned with a jar of soil containing their tracks, you might name yourselves [Thornfall Outpost’s Beast Tracks] or [Thornfall Outpost’s Beast-Chaser’s Soil].”

“This tradition means that many rookie teams become obsessed with getting a grand, impressive name. Some even go after dangerous monsters just for the sake of it.”

“Of course, most of them die trying. Only a few succeed. But for newcomers, the allure of a bold and powerful name is irresistible. So every year, plenty of rookies still rush toward death, chasing after that one cool-sounding name.”

“But my team... well, we were a bit timid,” Randall admitted.

“At the time, I was Rank-2, and the others—a swordsman, mage, and alchemist—were Rank-1. The alchemist was still an apprentice, learning under us. I didn’t have the heart to make such a team take on dangerous quests for the sake of a flashy name.”

“So our first mission was to clear out Carrion Feeders that had been attracted to the garbage piles and graveyards around Thornfall Outpost.”

“Carrion Feeders stink and can spit venom, but as long as you keep your distance, they can be safely exterminated without injury or poisoning.”

“Their toxic fluids can be used to brew simple poisons, their digestive glands as catalysts for the Acid Arrow spell, their fat for basic alchemical solvents, and their hide for cheap waterproof materials.”

“With an alchemist, mage, and ranger in our team, the materials—though cheap—were useful for our future missions. It saved us from buying supplies and gave us some practice.”

“In the end, we brought back the biggest Carrion Feeder as proof of completion. The stench alone cleared out four-fifths of the guild hall, so we didn’t even need to wait in line to register our team name...”

“The Guild’s dung collectors...” Thaleia let out a cold, derisive laugh—quiet, but unmistakable.

“...My apologies for making you two witness such shame,” Randall sighed instead of taking offense.

After all, it was true.

Against warriors of their caliber, his abilities were laughable.

Of course these War Knights would look down on a party called Scavenger Beast...

What were Uncle Robin and Uncle Carlisle even thinking?

“No, no! I think you did great! Thalan—you, you stop that! Don’t crush his spirit!” Samael pushed Thaleia aside and placed his cold metal hand on Randall’s shoulder.

“Brother Randall, you’ve done well. That’s the smart way to go about it. And your team name? Fantastic!”

Randall shivered from the chill of Samael’s gauntlet.

“R-Really?” he asked reflexively.

“What’s... fantastic about it?”

Randall looked at Samael.

Samael looked back at Randall.

“I, uh... I mean... I love eating trash.”

Silence.

“I mean—scavengers play an irreplaceable role in the world! Someone has to do the work no one else will, right?” Samael clapped Randall on the shoulder.

“Brother Randall, don’t be embarrassed about your team name. It shows you’re practical, grounded, and self-aware.”

He turned toward Thaleia.

“So, how about we stick with this team for now?” he asked, seeking her opinion.

“I think they’re pretty good.”

“They’re weak. If we work together, we’ll have to babysit them,” Thaleia huffed.

“And that name... aren’t you afraid of being laughed at? A knight from the Scavenger Beast party?”

“We... can change it later,” Randall said quickly, seeing a sliver of hope.

“After a year and 300 completed quests, teams are allowed to rename themselves—we’re only a dozen missions away!”

“Many famous parties started with weird names. For instance, Rank-6 adventurer ‘Wind Sword’ Norman—his team Stormborn was originally called [Thornfall Outpost’s Mangy Beak-Hounds].”

“When we discussed our name, we decided the most important thing was distinctiveness and recognition. For new teams, sounding grand doesn’t matter—what matters is standing out.”

“The name Scavenger Beast might sound bad, but it’s unique. It helped clients remember us, and since we deliver good results, some even send repeat commissions specifically to us.”

“Come on, Thalan—let’s go with this team,” Samael said.

“I like them.”

He slung an arm around Randall’s shoulder, making it clear whose side he was on.

“Your taste is really...” Thaleia sighed.

“Fine.”

“Thank you both for your trust,” Randall exhaled in relief, heart pounding in his chest.

These two War Knights were the ones even the most discerning guards—Uncle Robin and Uncle Carlisle—had praised.

If they truly joined...

if they stayed long-term... maybe one day, Scavenger Beast could rise to fame like Norman’s Stormborn.

“Are you two visiting Thornfall Outpost for the first time?” Randall asked while leading the way.

“Yes. Thalan and I rarely left the monastery before this. You can treat us like wild hermits,” Samael replied cheerfully.

“Thank you, Brother Randall.”

Clang.

Thaleia slammed her shoulder plate into Samael’s with a heavy metallic thud.

“Then allow me to introduce the area,” Randall continued.

“This is Thornfall Outpost—a medium-sized Guild stronghold on the edge of the Kanna Plains in the continent’s northwest.”

“This area is the marketplace for adventurers to sell trophies and materials after missions. You can also buy items here, but merchants mark up prices significantly above purchase rates…”

“This street here is filled with adventurer barracks. Once registered, you can rent a room of your choice—different tiers, different prices…”

“Nearby streets have vendors selling tools, supplies, and food… Over there are the alchemy and equipment shops. Adventurers often go there for potions and gear…”

“New gear’s expensive, so some go to the loot market for bargains—second-hand items scavenged from the dead. Risky, but you might find treasures cheap if the merchants don’t recognize their value…”

As Randall guided the two knights through the bustling streets, the towering Adventurers’ Guild Hall came into view.

It was a four-story structure built of white stone, topped with a blue-painted arched roof.

In the very center of Thornfall Outpost, it stood tall and imposing.

A large, faded tapestry hung across the front—deep blue trimmed with gold, bearing the Guild’s crossed-iron-hands-and-golden-eye emblem.

Against the white wall, it was strikingly vivid.

The oak doors engraved with the same emblem stood open.

Inside bustled a chaotic crowd.

Randall led the two knights through the doors.

Within the hall, all kinds of eccentric figures mingled—a mace-wielding mage clad in leather over robes, a burly knight in full armor dragging a warhammer, a bearded hunter with traps and chains, a dusky-skinned dancer adorned with golden anklets and veils…

Amid such diversity, Samael and Thaleia didn’t stand out nearly as much.

The side walls were covered in quest papers—each crawling with wax seals, signatures, heraldic emblems, and verbose descriptions.

Adventurers stood before them, staring, arguing, tearing sheets off the boards to claim quests.

At the far end, clerks sat behind counters—neat white shirts, brown vests, blue trousers, polished boots, brass nameplates pinned to their chests.

“This way, please. The receptionist here’s an acquaintance—makes things easier,” Randall said, squeezing through the crowd.

Samael and Thaleia followed.

Behind the counter sat a young receptionist—but she was currently cornered by a loud, boastful man.

“...Ah, those talons of the Riftclaw Bird—sharp as blades! When it slashed at me, I saw the glint of death itself! Not even a Stormblade Knight could have dodged it like I did!”

The man bragged endlessly, leaning against the counter.

He had dark-blue hair, an unkempt beard, simple leather armor beneath a gray cloak, a sword at his hip, and a grass stem dangling from his mouth.

One arm propped on the counter as he spoke incessantly to the receptionist.

The young woman wore a strained, polite smile, clearly at her limit.

When she spotted Randall, her eyes lit up with relief.

She quickly rose to greet him.

“An adventurer’s here to submit paperwork. Mr. Lucwin Rost, I—I must attend to official duties,” she said with practiced courtesy.

The man turned, sneering.

“Well, if it isn’t Randall the Scavenger Beast! Here to pick up more trash missions?”

“If you’re not here on business, kindly step aside, Lucwin Rost,” Randall sighed.

He disliked trouble—but trouble found him anyway.

“I am on business! I’m about to be promoted to Rank-3!” Lucwin raised his chin proudly, waving an application form.

“You only got to Rank-3 by luck and trash jobs. I fought my way up fair and square!”

“Mr. Rost,” the receptionist reminded, “your promotion request still needs two days for review. You’ll be notified when it’s complete. There’s no need to... wait here.”

“You’ve submitted your form—can you move now?” Randall asked.

Lucwin snorted, biting his grass stem, and reluctantly stepped aside.

“Mr. Ryska, what can I do for you?” The receptionist—clearly familiar with him—almost used his first name, then corrected herself.

“These two, Miss Lillian. Please help them register as new adventurers,” Randall said, stepping aside.

Samael and Thaleia approached.

“Ah... hello! Guild Clerk, ID No. KNL-3562, L. Watson, at your service.”

Lillian Watson rose and bowed slightly.

She drew out two registration forms and placed them, along with quills and ink, in front of the two knights.

“Do the two of you read Common? If not, I can read it aloud and fill it for you. You can also sign with a handprint.”

“No need. We can read,” Samael replied.

He skimmed the form—it outlined adventurer duties, income models, and a brief excerpt of the Adventurer Codex forbidding robbery, theft, and internal murder, punishable by Guild trial.

He glanced at Thaleia’s form and followed her example, writing the alias Samo, listing Ascetic Monk for identity and War Knight for profession.

“The registration fee is two Edric silver coins,” Miss Lillian said, reviewing the forms.

“If you’re not from the Edric Empire, you may pay with two Floren silver coins, four Suparl silver akçe, or three Holy Light Church silver saints.”

Thaleia and Samael exchanged a glance.

Thaleia nudged his hand—You speak.

I’m not doing this.

Samael nodded—Leave it to me.

My face is thick as castle walls.

“Miss Watson, could we... pay later? Maybe take a simple quest first, earn a bit, and then pay you back?” Samael asked, gesturing awkwardly.

“We’re monks—our master told us not to cling to worldly wealth. We’ve been... traveling by faith. Please?”

Thaleia turned her face away in silent mortification.

“I... could cover it for you...” Lillian hesitated.

“No need, I’ll pay.” Randall quickly placed the coins on the counter.

“It’s nothing—happy to help.”

“Thank you, Brother Randall!” Samael grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

“We’ll pay you back as soon as we earn something!”

“Please, no need to mention it, Brother Samo,” Randall said, shaking his head.

“I should be thanking you both for joining us.”

Lillian took the forms, fetched two small iron tags, and carefully etched Samo and Thalan onto them with a faintly glowing stylus.

“Please keep these ID tags on you at all times. Each contains a unique demonic-essence rune code for taking and submitting quests—or claiming remains.” She handed them the tags with both hands.

“If lost or stolen, report it immediately.

The old code will be voided, and we’ll reissue a new one.”

“Also, by Guild regulation, new adventurers must join an existing team for at least one quest before working solo,” she explained, glancing at Randall.

“Mr. Ryska, are you accepting this mentorship quest?”

“Yes,” Randall nodded.

“Please write it up directly—no need to post it on the board.”

Skipping the posting process was clearly a favor, but Lillian simply smiled.

She filled a blank quest form, officially recording the mentorship assignment for Samo and Thalan, then stamped it with the Guild’s crossed-hands-and-eye seal.

“Training quest for new adventurers—reward: 25 Edric gold coins. Please—”

Before she could finish, a hand shot in from the side and snatched the form away!

“First to grab the quest gets priority. Guild rules. I’m taking this one.”

Lucwin Rost waved the form triumphantly.

“Hey, you two! Join my team—the [Thornfall Outpost’s Riftclaw Birds]! Way better than that Scavenger trash!”

“You...” Randall’s brow furrowed.

The usually calm man instinctively reached for his bow.

Thaleia’s clawed gauntlet twitched toward Lucwin, but before she could move, Samael gently clasped her hand and squeezed, then released.

“Don’t worry, Brother Randall,” Samael said softly.

“We just need one apprenticeship quest to get our licenses, right? After that, we’ll team up again. We promised, remember? Knights don’t lie.”

“...All right.” Randall sighed.

“Don’t be so quick to decide!” Lucwin grinned, the grass stem bobbing in his mouth.

“Maybe after one quest with my team, you’ll forget all about the Scavenger Beasts.”


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