My name was Gondo.
I was a human.
I’d made a name for myself as an adventurer in a distant human kingdom and came to the Demon Kingdom in search of a place where I could actually turn a profit.
The Human Kingdom was a headache, full of national borders, territorial disputes, and endless red tape, but the Demon Kingdom was essentially a free-for-all. As long as you registered as an adventurer, you could go just about anywhere. Furthermore, they didn't treat adventurers as second-class citizens. It was common for anyone who’d gained a bit of combat experience to set their sights on the Demon Kingdom.
I was no different.
Lately, however, there had been an influx of adventurers heading for the Demon Kingdom who lacked any real skill. It was a lamentable trend. Though, to be fair, those types tended to weed themselves out naturally.
After all, this was the Demon Kingdom. The Monsters and Magic Beasts here were a tier or two stronger than anything you’d find in the Human Kingdom. The area around Shashato City was relatively tame, but it was a classic story: some rookie gets overconfident and ends up meeting a grisly end.
Because of that, it had become the local custom to give new registrants a harsh "baptism." It made me laugh how popular the "re-registration" excuse had become as a way to dodge the hazing. It was rare to actually lose your qualifications once you became an adventurer.
Well... rare, but not impossible.
Now, I was the leader of an adventurer team consisting of twelve members. Being the leader didn't mean I could just do whatever I wanted, though. Adventurer work was a life-or-death business. Whenever a job came up, I made sure to consult with my crew.
"There’s a request to clear out the Monsters and Magic Beasts around a site for a New Village," I told them. "But we don't know exactly how strong the local fauna is. You guys okay with that?"
"Building a New Village? Sounds like a pretext to get adventurers to do the dirty work," one replied.
"The reward is unusually high," another added. "Did you check the background on this?"
My companions didn't hold back their doubts. No one in my team was shy about speaking their mind. No one wanted to die because they were too polite to object.
"Besides, the jobs you pick are usually pretty terrible," someone grumbled.
I responded to that particular insult with a display of physical force.
"The village story is legitimate," I continued. "Apparently, it’s going to be a retirement home for some high-ranking noble. That’s why the pay is so good—nobles are involved. We were requested by name, but they’ve reached out to several other teams too. Even ordinary adventurers can join. I don't think it'll be anything too reckless."
In the first place, you don’t build a village in an area crawling with powerful Monsters. It was much safer to build where they didn't exist than to try and exterminate them first. My guess was that whoever was moving into that retirement home was being fussy about the local wildlife, so the client was hiring adventurers to do a thorough sweep just to be safe.
Regardless, the pay was excellent. Lodging and meals were provided. On top of that, there were bonuses based on the quality and quantity of the kills. My companions grumbled, but in the end, they accepted.
I decided to gorge myself on curry one last time, knowing I wouldn't see it again for a while.
The request details weren't a lie. The lodging was clean, and meals were served morning, noon, and night—even at midnight if we asked. There were other adventurer teams there as well. In total, there must have been over two hundred people. Even with that many bodies, we never lacked for a place to sleep or a full plate of food.
Behind the headquarters they called the Base, massive stacks of wooden boxes were piled high. If all of those were full of supplies, the client was incredibly serious about this project. One by one, the concerns I’d harbored were being put to rest.
Except for one. The strength of the Monsters and Magic Beasts had not been exaggerated. In fact, the moment we discovered our first Magic Beast, I was filled with instant regret.
"You’ve got to be kidding me!" one of my men screamed.
I wanted to bark at him for acting like an amateur, but I understood the sentiment. It was a War Bear. It was a powerful Magic Beast said to claim the lives of at least thirty soldiers just to take one down.
And there were three of them.
One was smaller—was it a family? Or was the small one a female that the two males were fighting over? Whatever the case, all three were fixated on us with clear hostility. Running wasn't an option.
"Everyone, battle stations! Do it! Luggage carriers in the rear, drop your gear and run back to the Base! Get reinforcements!"
We did everything we could. Fortunately, we managed to hold our ground until help arrived without losing anyone. There were no deaths, but the injuries were severe. Both of my arms were mangled. The guys who came to back us up were in a terrible state too. And despite all that, we hadn't managed to kill a single War Bear. We’d only driven them off.
I limped back to the Base, cursing the day I took this job.
But thorough medical care was waiting for us. Healers who would normally charge a fortune were casting Healing Magic without a second thought. The client was footing the bill. I was grateful, but I realized the catch: as long as we weren't dead, they expected us to keep working. We couldn't even abandon the request because we’d been fully healed. Quitting without a legitimate reason meant facing a penalty.
However, I thought I had an out. I appreciated the healing, but I had no weapons. Both my primary and secondary blades were gone. All I had left was a small skinning knife. My armor was in shreds, too. Surely they wouldn't expect me to fight like that? It might cost us a penalty, but "lack of equipment" was a valid reason to withdraw.
Or so I thought until I saw the new weapons and armor they had waiting for us. The blades were of even higher quality than what I’d been using, in every size and shape imaginable. There were even weaponsmiths on standby to make adjustments. The armor was the same story—armorsmiths were waiting to fit us.
I'd been trapped. I clutched my head with my newly healed arms.
According to reports from other adventurers, the War Bears weren't even the only threat. There were Wood Killers that mimicked trees, Jaguar Bulls that dropped from the canopy, Rabbit Foots with lethal kicks, and Keen Runes—mysterious creatures that could fire magic. There were Catas—foot-long centipedes that attacked from underground—and Cor-crows that circled the sky day and night.
Every single one was the kind of Magic Beast that usually commanded a massive bounty. There were weaker monsters too, but you couldn't afford to let your guard down for a second. Naturally, the adventurers began to huddle together. We turned to group tactics just to survive. Acquaintances and strangers worked side-by-side, slowly clearing the woods. When we finally managed to kill a single War Bear without any casualties, a massive cheer went up from the camp.
However, the client was apparently dissatisfied with our pace. They never said it to our faces, but I knew when I heard they’d called in reinforcements. Normally, I’d be offended that they didn't trust our competence, but this time was different. Honestly, the help was a godsend. I felt sorry for the new guys, but I planned to give them every bit of intel we’d gathered.
The new arrival turned out to be Galf.
The God of War, Galf.
He usually fought with a Wooden Sword and wore no armor, yet he had dominated the Shashato City Martial Arts Tournament. But now, Galf was carrying a real weapon and wearing proper gear. What’s more, he had a whole squad with him. I thought we were saved.
I wasn't wrong. But...
Seeing him operate solo in the Forest, casually slaughtering the Monsters we’d nearly died fighting... well, it hurt my pride. They paid us bonuses based on the quantity and quality of what his team brought in, but I couldn't even feel happy about the money.
And then, seeing the legendary Galf being toyed with by a Lizardman during a practice bout made me want to cry. Who were these Lizardmen? And were those women really just ordinary Elves?
"Hey, do you guys want to join the practice?" they asked.
...I gave it my all.
I learned that there is always someone better in this world. Part of me wondered if I should just accept my limits and live within my means.
But no! I'm an adventurer! I was going to squeeze every secret of strength out of them that I could. My teammates seemed to feel the same way.
"Alright, one more time! If possible, can I spar with the weakest person in your group?"
"Wait, Galf is the weakest?"
"Haha, good one. He’s the leader, isn't he?"
"He’s only the leader because he’s the only one with an adventurer registration."
I see. Hahaha.
Sometimes, retreat is a necessary part of life.
Wait—whoa! They’ve already flanked me!
I really hope I’m getting stronger, even if it’s just a little bit.