Chapter 529: Kapil Just Keeps Dropping
The tree was breathtaking—a towering oak with spreading branches and deep, intricate roots, every leaf and knot and whorl of bark rendered in shimmering light.
It grew in fast-forward, rising from a tiny sprout to a majestic giant in the span of seconds.
The colors were impossibly vivid—emerald greens that seemed to glow from within.
The screen was clear, the verdict undeniable.
“T… Tree class!!” One receptionist shouted, her voice cracking with disbelief, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at the shimmering image of the oak that still dominated the Screener’s surface.
The tree pulsed with a soft, ethereal light, its branches seeming to sway gently as if caught in an invisible breeze, and I could see the reflection of its glory dancing in the receptionist’s dilated pupils.
Another receptionist—the one who’d been writing on a parchment earlier—quickly started writing something down with a quill and trembling hands, the ink splattering slightly as her grip failed to steady itself, her letters coming out shaky and uneven.
“H… Heka of Verdant Spire, you can now call yourself an adventurer. Put your hand inside the screener now.”
Heka nodded and obeyed without hesitation, her expression calm and composed as she extended her arm toward the artifact’s shimmering surface.
Her hand sank into the gizmo like it was dipping into water—the membrane parted around her fingers with barely a ripple, swallowing her wrist up to the forearm in that strange, liquid light.
I could see the colors swirling around her skin, dancing and shifting, and for a moment, the tree on the screen flickered and reformed, its branches reaching out as if to embrace her.
Then she brought it out, and there was a round item forcefully plunged into her hand, as it bled out.
The object—a metallic disc, about the size of a large coin, with a sharpened edge—had embedded itself into her palm with enough force to break the skin, and I could see rivulets of crimson welling up around the point of impact, trickling down her wrist and dripping onto the wooden floor.
The item had myriad colors of green on it—deep forest greens, pale spring greens, the vibrant emerald of fresh leaves, and the muted olive of ancient moss—and it was wide enough to cover a good portion of the palm, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and flow like the Screener’s own membrane.
“Ahhh! What are you doing?!” One receptionist quickly ran to Heka with a burst of panicked speed, her hands already glowing with the soft, warm light of healing magic, her face contorted with horror and concern. “You were supposed to grab it when it pressed into your hand! Did you just let it tear into you?! You’re supposed to close your fingers around it, catch it before it can break the skin?!”
“No, I mean, I thought it was part of the test,” Heka replied with an innocent expression, her eyes wide and guileless, the picture of naive confusion.
But her blush was a traitor—a deep, rosy flush that crept up from her neck and spread across her cheeks, betraying her masochism even as she tried to maintain her mask of ignorance.
She’d known, I realized.
She’d known exactly what she was supposed to do, and she’d deliberately let the disc cut her anyway, just to see what would happen, just to feel that sharp sting of pain that she’d been craving.
She had vowed to stop glitching into masochist mode, but old habits died hard, and the temptation had clearly been too strong to resist.
The receptionist finished her healing spell, the wound on Heka’s palm knitting together seamlessly, leaving behind only a faint dark scar that would fade in time.
She huffed in exasperation, shaking her head at Heka like a disappointed schoolteacher, but said nothing more.
I turned my attention to the ranking banners, watching as a guild employee hurried over with a ladder and a fresh strip of parchment, his movements quick and efficient.
He climbed up, carefully peeled off the old listing, and replaced it with the updated version. And there, in crisp lettering, was the new ranking:
Heka: Tree class adventurer.
Ranked 3/700 in Thaad—Kapil goes to 4th.
Ranked 5/700 in Wilds—Kapil again drops to 6.
Ranked 23/700 in the world—Kapil drops to 25. Poor Kapil.
But they sure work fast! Were they just expecting Heka to be high-level all along?!
On her very first day. She’d bypassed every single introductory rank and landed directly in the top echelon of global adventurers, sitting just a spot behind the legendary Siberia herself.
The implications were staggering—the guild would be buzzing with this news for weeks, maybe months. Heka had just become a living legend.
“This has never happened before!” One adventurer in the crowd expressed awe, his voice carrying across the suddenly noisy hall.
He was a grizzled veteran, his face scarred and weathered, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. “Kapil and Siberia hit Garden class on their first try, but Tree class isn’t normal. It’s not something that happens to regular people. You have to be born different, or trained from birth in ways that most of us can’t even imagine.”
“Ah, except for the strongest adventurer in the world,” another one chimed in, a younger man with a cocky grin. “He got Gold class on his first try. Now that was something to see. The whole guild went silent for a full minute, and then everyone just started screaming.”
Huh?! For real?!
Who is that monster?! And how did I miss his name?!
My head snapped around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, my eyes scanning the global ranking banner with frantic intensity.
I’d been so focused on Eric and Yuki, and the lower ranks that I’d completely overlooked the very top, the name that sat above all others like a king on a throne.
And they were…
Of course.
Ugh… why am I surprised…
Kurosawa Ren: Gold class.
Ranked 1/700 in the world.
Apparently, the most powerful adventurer in history, in fact.
But that means he tried adventuring in the past?
He didn’t even tell me.
Not a single mention of his time as an adventurer.
And having Gold class at his first try… I’d known he was powerful enough. But this ranking might have been several decades ago.
Ren is not Gold class anymore.
Hehehe… On the bright side, I guess I’m getting Gold or even Star class as well, no?
The thought was intoxicating, a warm rush of anticipation that spread through my chest like honey.
I’d been reincarnated with powers that most people in this world couldn’t even comprehend.
If Kurosawa Ren could get Gold on his first try, then surely I could match him, maybe even exceed him currently.
Though, I better not raise any flag now!
I need this to work so I too will be a celebrity like Heka! Yes, it’s petty, but apparently attention feels good!
The applause, the awe, the way everyone had looked at her like she was something special—I wanted that, no matter how shameful it is.
By the way, there was a second strongest adventurer that caught my eye, but since Eric was acting oblivious about it—his gaze carefully averted from that section of the banner, his posture stiff and uncomfortable—I decided to not ask him about it.
Hellebore Anthos: Gold class
Ranked 2/700 in the world.
Anthos.
Maybe they are not related. But also maybe it could be that this person is the reason Eric tries so hard.
Now I can’t help but wonder if this Hellebore is a cute girl, mature woman, or an androgynous beauty like Eric.
Damnit, I want to ask Eric about it so bad.
But I held back, knowing that some doors shouldn’t be forced open, and some stories had to be told on their own time.
Chances are, Hellebore was the strongest before Ren came and ruined the ranking.
Also, another thing that caught my interest was the strongest adventurer in Thaad, but wasn’t anywhere to be found—at least, not in the immediate vicinity:
Rune Viper: Silver class adventurer.
Ranked 1/700 in Thaad.
Ranked 2/700 in Wilds.
Ranked 7/700 in the world.
I don’t think I’ll like to tango with this guy casually.
It would be fun, but probably troublesome: a dangerous person is usually worse than a dangerous monster.
His name alone was intimidating, possessing connotations of serpents, danger, and hidden threats.
They were someone you respected from a distance, someone you hoped never had a reason to notice you.
I shook off the thought and joined Heka to play—I mean, seriously inspect—the ID she received, checking out the options and dialogues that arose in the holographic display.
The plate was warm against her palm, its green surface pulsing with a soft, rhythmic light that seemed to match her heartbeat.
As I leaned in to look, a holographic box flickered into existence above it, displaying lines of text and symbols that appeared to shift and rearrang based on the viewer’s focus.
It was weird, because it wasn’t actually moving; it only seemed so.
There was information on monsters—detailed entries on various creatures, complete with weaknesses, attack patterns, and estimated danger classes.
Her full information was displayed prominently, a summary of her rank, class, and notable achievements that would grow as she completed more quests.
There was a space where her current quest would pop up, updating automatically whenever she accepted a contract.
And among other things like a communication function—it was like having a miniature guild right in the palm of her hand. Pun intended.