The moment Ryoma finished shooting through the five targets, Eliaria erupted into an excited flurry of words. Meanwhile, the other four stood in stunned silence, completely lost for words at his display of skill.
“That was incredible! Wasn’t it, Father?!”
“A-Ah... yes...”
“I always thought archery was something you did while taking long, careful aim, but he fires so quickly!”
At Eliaria’s remark, Sebas and Reinbach hurriedly stepped in to correct her.
“No, my lady. That is entirely due to Ryoma-sama’s personal proficiency. An ordinary archer would never fire at such a speed. Perhaps someone well-practiced could manage it if they didn't care about actually hitting anything, but...”
“Elia, you mustn't use Ryoma-kun as your yardstick for normalcy. To loose arrows at that speed and strike the center of the target with every single one is impossible for a commoner. I doubt many in the national army could replicate such a feat.”
“Is that so? Then Ryoma-san really is amazing!”
“He certainly is, but...”
“It seems we were underestimating the boy’s true depth,” Reinhardt added.
Ryoma himself was largely unaware of it, but between the training from his previous life and the practical combat experience of hunting since arriving in this world, his skill with a bow was already among the finest in the country. This was achieved without any divine help beyond his magic; it was his own raw, unadulterated talent.
With the stationary target test complete, the next phase was a mock clay pigeon shoot. Ryoma took his position and readied his bow. Since the wall where the targets would emerge was on the opposite side of Eliaria and the others, his face was hidden from them, just as it was from the examiner standing behind him.
He pushed his concentration to its limit. There was no tension, no anxiety—yet neither was there any trace of excitement or over-eagerness. He was a picture of absolute tranquility, but his eyes, devoid of all emotion, stared fixedly ahead.
Ryoma looked like a mere child now, but he was a man who had accumulated nearly forty years of rigorous training since his youth on Earth. The concentration he had forged was often wasted in the mundane tasks of his previous life, though it had proven invaluable when he was forced to perform repetitive, mind-numbing labor.
Even the superiors and colleagues who had treated him like dirt acknowledged that much, which only led them to use him as a convenient work machine, further worsening his already miserable existence. However, those office tasks had never required Ryoma to exert his true, underlying focus.
The arena where Ryoma could truly unleash his potential was the martial arts he had lived and breathed since childhood. He would trace the same forms every day until the techniques were etched into his very marrow, moving his body as naturally as breathing, in a state of perfect flow. With his body moving as an extension of his will and his mind free of all distraction, he could pour every ounce of himself into his technique. That was Ryoma’s true "all out"—the talent he had carried over from his past life.
Having once lived in a world where he had to blend in and suppress himself—where the strength he had honed was forbidden, and where people would flee in terror if he ever displayed it—Ryoma was now free. The laws and common sense of Earth were irrelevant in this new world. Having escaped the shackles of his past, there was nothing left to hold his power back.
The examiner’s whistle shrieked, and a target shot out from the right pillar. Ryoma loosed an arrow toward its trajectory; the target was pierced through and plummeted. A second target popped from the left. Again, an arrow found its mark, and the target fell.
Whether they came from the right or left, Ryoma’s rhythm never faltered. Using techniques mastered through decades of repetition, he read the flight paths and drove his arrows home with relentless precision. It was a cycle of pure, rhythmic focus.
The speed and frequency of the targets steadily increased, upping the difficulty. Ryoma adapted instantly. When multiple targets appeared at once, he would fell the first, snatch another arrow from his quiver in a blur of motion, and nail the second before it could vanish into the opposing wall.
Finally, four targets were launched simultaneously. Ryoma wedged arrows between every finger of his hand, drawing all four from his quiver at once. In a single breath, he loosed them. Every target was struck with unerring accuracy. The final whistle blew, signaling the end of the exam.
~Side: Ryoma~
Phew...!!
“—! Earth Needle!”
The whistle had just finished blowing, and I was about to lower my bow and take a breath when I felt a knife flying toward me from behind. I reflexively caught it between my fingers and whipped it back toward the examiner.
The man knocked the projectile aside with a sword he drew from his hip. In that split second, I dropped my bow and cast the earth magic Earth Needle. A sharp stone spike burst from the ground directly in front of me; I snapped it off at the base with a kick and leveled it like a makeshift spear.
“Whoa, stop! My bad, my bad! The test is over. You passed the first, second, and third phases with flying colors, so put that dangerous thing away, would ya?”
I couldn’t feel any hostility coming from him. Apparently, the knife throw had been part of the evaluation. I remained cautious but used Break Rock to crumble the makeshift spear back into dust.
“Sorry about that. When I’m testing archers, I usually throw a knife as a bit of a wake-up call. Too many people get tunnel vision on the targets and forget to mind their surroundings. I tell them that if we were in the forest and my knife was a monster, they’d be dead. Most kids just complain or give me a sour look. Some understand or thank me... I’ve had a few dodge by the skin of their teeth, but you’re the first one to ever counter-attack. You’ve got the skills, no doubt about it. I won't put any restrictions on your license. As long as the rank matches, you’re free to pick whatever jobs you want.”
Looking at the knife he’d swatted away, I saw the tip was rounded and the edge was blunt. It really had been part of the test—or perhaps just the man being overbearing. I lowered my guard and gave him a nod.
“I understand. Thank you very much.”
“Yeah, I’ve got high hopes for you. Just don’t overdo it. I’m Wogan, the Guildmaster of the Gimul branch. Good to know you.”
This guy was the Guildmaster?!
“It’s an honor. I didn't realize you were the Guildmaster.”
“Huh? Well, kid...” Wogan glanced over at the five people waiting for me. “I don't know the story, but I can’t exactly leave someone who’s being escorted by the entire Jamil Ducal House to some junior examiner.”
That was a fair point.
“I suppose that makes sense.”
“But seriously, why are you being babysat by a Duke’s family?”
“I happened to meet Lord Reinhardt while I was hunting in the forest. Two weeks later, he invited me to travel with them, so I tagged along.”
“What kind of crazy setup is that...?”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Sebas said, stepping into the conversation. “The exam appears to be finished. May we hear the official results?”
Looking over, I saw the young lady was also waiting tensely for the verdict.
“Right, sorry. He passed without a hitch. I’ve decided not to place any restrictions on his commissions. His combat ability is more than sufficient.”
“I see. Congratulations, Ryoma-sama.”
“Congratulations, Ryoma-san!”
Elia ran up and grabbed my arms, spinning me around in a joyful dance. She really did wear her heart on her sleeve. Seeing her this happy made me feel pretty good too.
“Young lady, please release Ryoma-sama. He still has paperwork to complete.”
“Oh! That’s right...”
“Thank you, Sebas-san.”
I was then led into a separate room—the Guildmaster’s office—to finalize my registration with the Adventurer Guild.
“Alright, like I said, Ryoma. It’s noted here on your Guild Card that you have no restrictions. You can take any quest at your rank, but keep your wits about you out there.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“Technically, your skills are high enough to start at E-rank, but if a kid your age is taking E-rank jobs, you’re gonna stand out too much. If you do too much too fast, you'll just buy yourself resentment from the other adventurers. Start at G and work your way up steadily to show them what you can do.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
When I bowed, Wogan-san waved me off with a hand.
“Stop that. You don't need to be so polite with me. It’s a pain. By the way, kid, who taught you the bow? An Elf?”
“My grandfather. But he wasn't an Elf, he was a Dwarf.”
“A Dwarf, huh? Rare to see them use bows, but they're a dexterous lot. I guess there’s a few masters among them... well, whatever. That’s the end of the paperwork. Here, take this.”
The Guildmaster handed me an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“A letter of introduction to a blacksmith I know. Judging by how you moved after you caught my knife, you can handle a spear, right? That shop has a good selection; go find a weapon that actually fits you. They have decent armor too, even if it’s not their main thing. Better than buying from some cut-rate shop.”
This was a genuine help.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to visit when I need new equipment.”
I thanked him again and left the office.
By the time we stepped outside, it was already getting dark. I returned to the inn with the group, and a thought occurred to me.
“Sebas-san, is it possible to get stone for a divine statue at this inn?”
“Yes, we can arrange that. Are you planning to carve another one?”
“Actually, during today’s baptism, I received a protection from a god I’d never prayed to before. I thought I should make a statue for them.”
“I see... May I ask whose protection it is, if you don't mind?”
“The Status Board lists it as the Divine Protection of the God of Wine Tekun.”
“The God of Wine Tekun-sama...? It is rare for a human to receive his favor. While he is the God of Wine, he is also the God of Technology and Crafts. He is primarily worshipped by Dwarves. Do you have any idea why he would choose you?”
“The grandfather who raised me was a Dwarf. I also spent time helping him with his blacksmithing.”
Using the cover story I’d worked out with Gain and the others, Sebas-san seemed to accept the explanation easily.
“Ah, that must be it. You likely caught Tekun-sama’s eye during that time. I am slightly surprised it isn't the Protection of the God of Technology, though...”
“Is there a difference?”
“Tekun-sama grants two types of protections. The ‘God of Technology’ version helps one improve rapidly in crafts like blacksmithing and leads to the creation of masterpieces. The ‘God of Wine’ version, however, ensures one never gets dangerously drunk or suffers from hangovers. It also increases your chances of encountering and obtaining rare, high-quality liquors. It’s a protection many would envy, though it shouldn’t cause any trouble if others find out.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, getting back to the statue. They say Tekun-sama dislikes gaudy, over-the-top offerings. It is better to carve a precise, detailed statue with all your heart. It is also customary to offer fine liquor before it. We can buy a sketch of his likeness along with the stone, and since this is an inn, we can purchase alcohol as well.”
“Then I’ll do that.”
I went with Sebas-san to talk to the inn staff. They told us they had just received a shipment of an incredibly rare, top-shelf liquor called Keromi’s Tears.
I didn't really understand the value of it, so I just bought three small bottles for the offering. Sebas-san, however, looked like his soul had left his body for a moment before he immediately bought two entire barrels. Apparently, it was Lord Reinbach’s favorite brand, but it was notoriously difficult to find because the annual production was so low.
He gave me a massive smile and thanked me, saying it was all thanks to my new divine protection. Looking at him, I had a feeling it wasn’t just Lord Reinbach who was a fan—Sebas-san probably had a taste for it too.
After that, I went back to my room, carved the statue, and offered the wine. Following a meal and a bath with the cleaner slimes, I finally went to bed. And so, my first day in the town of Gimul came to a close.