by Funa
“Usurper!”
“He overthrew the family line! That’s the worst a noble can do!”
“A crime worthy of the highest punishment!”
One voice after another cried out from the assembly, now in uproar.
Viscount Ascham was frozen, his face utterly pale.
“What say you, Viscount Ascham?” The king’s voice was firm. Everyone grew silent, awaiting the viscount’s confession.
However, Viscount Ascham remained silent, making no move to reply.
After some moments of this looming silence, the door of the assembly hall opened, and a single guard entered.
“Oh, Bergl! Where have you been?” asked the king.
Bergl drew an envelope from his breast pocket.
“Well, when I went to the audience waiting room where the girl was to be waiting, I saw a young woman I didn’t recognize standing there. Thinking there must have been a mistake, I rushed to the school attended by the girl we were seeking. However, it seems that she left the school this morning for a destination unknown, leaving only four letters behind…
“As could be expected, three of the letters were addressed to classmates and teachers and the like. Yet there was one more letter, addressed to a trio of girls who she was close to, which contained a few more clues as to the particulars of the situation. The trio allowed me to borrow this letter on the condition that I return it, thinking that it might be able to help their friend.”
“Tell us what it says,” the king ordered. Bergl looked over the letter in his hands.
“Yes, sir. In summary, she was called, by her family name, to come to the palace, despite having been forbidden previously to bear that name. Were she to do so, the girl explained, she would likely be killed, just like her mother and grandfather. She decided to run but told her friends not to worry. She planned to carry on a happy life somewhere out in the country. That is all.”
The king rumbled. “Killed like her mother and grandfather, you say?”
Now, Count Bornham responded.
“The previous Viscount Ascham and his daughter were assailed and killed by bandits. However, theirs was the only case of anyone having been attacked by bandits in that area within a period of quite some years. What, we must ask ourselves, are the chances of this attack falling on the one occasion that the carriage carried not husband and wife, but the rare combination of the old viscount and his daughter…?
“My wife always had her suspicions, but I did not wish to slander a household without evidence. I have kept my suspicions silent until this day…”
Viscount Ascham’s face had gone beyond pallid and was now pure white.
“Throw those two in the dungeon at once!” the king ordered. “Take the necessary agents to the Viscount’s estate and apprehend his current wife. Launch an investigation into all parties who may have been accessory to the murders of the late viscount and his daughter. Consider all those who turned a blind eye or accepted bribes to be an accomplice.
“Until the rightful heir is prepared to take over the Ascham family estate, their lands will be under the Kingdom’s control.
“Now, Bergl, you must find her. She is a young girl, so she couldn’t have gotten far in half a day’s time. It should be simple. Use as many men as you require. You must protect her and treat her well.
“Everyone, move out!”
With the king’s decree, all directed parties sprang from the room.
The attending nobles were a tad surprised, as the king was not known for making such hasty judgments. However, they knew that even a gentle king took speedy action when needed, and they graciously accepted their orders.
However, none of them knew of the rage that boiled in the king’s heart…
Once the remaining nobles left the audience hall, the third princess spoke.
“Father,” asked Morena. “That missing girl is…”
“Don’t say it.”
The king held his head.
Bergl had to find her. And fast.
Chapter 6:
Fledgling Hunter
I
t was twelve days later. In a certain regional capital located in a country far from the Kingdom of Brandel—the land of Adele’s birth—there stood a hall, which sported a signboard etched with a crossed sword, spear, and staff.
It was not the home of a blacksmith or a weapons shop.
No, this was the hall of the Hunters’ Guild.
And in front of it, stood a young girl, alone.
Of all that she had saved, only three silver coins remained. She had used the rest of her money to purchase a tunic, trousers, boots, and a leather breastplate. After that, she had picked up a cheap secondhand sword at a weapons shop. As a normal sword would have shattered if she had swung it at full strength, she had inevitably needed to rework it.
She purchased a relatively short sword to suit her stature, then implored the nanomachines to gather iron sand from the silt of the river bed to incorporate into her blade. Iron sand, she knew, was the same material used in Japanese katana, and the new blade was strong and durable.
In order to emulate the techniques of a craftsman, she gave the nanomachines only simple, direct instructions, to be enacted with earth magic.
What she wanted was an unbreakable sword, one that wouldn’t bend or weaken. The sharpness had to be normal and the materials equalized to achieve the optimal carbon content.
I don’t care if you turn it into mithril or adamantine or orihalcum or hihi’irokane or any other rare metal, she told the nanomachines. If you need to rework the molecular structure, then go ahead and do that, too. Just make sure it looks like a normal sword!
And so, her mysterious blade was completed.
Even the girl herself had no idea what it was truly made of.
She could never have crafted the whole thing alone—it was too difficult to picture a grip or scabbard from the raw materials, so these had a standard appearance. But the blade was the sword’s real strength.
She was ready to defeat some monsters—to become a perfectly normal, average hunter. With that aim in mind, the girl opened the door to the hall of the Hunters’ Guild and stepped inside
The guild hall was empty.
It was early afternoon, hardly the busiest time of day.
There were no hunters talking, drinking, or trading stories of the day’s adventures.
The girl turned to the empty reception window. “Excuse me, I’d like to register as a hunter,” she called hesitantly.
“Oh, h-hello!” A flustered girl of seventeen or eighteen years, who appeared to have embarked on this line of work only recently, greeted her. “Um, d-do you know how to write?”
“Yes, I do.”
“All right, then. Please fill this out for me.”
The girl accepted the blank form from the clerk and moved to a registration desk nearby. She placed the form atop it, gripping the provided pen as she looked the form over. Naturally, the very first blank was for her name.
My name…
The girl thought hard.
Well, I certainly can’t use the name Adele. Not unless I run into some old classmate from the academy…
Misato was the name that she had in her previous life, but now, she needed to come up with something new.
Just then, she recalled a conversation she once had with her father when she was young. It was during elementary school, when they had been given an assignment that required them to ask their parents about the origin of their names.
When Misato asked her father about the origin of her own name, he had said this:
“Well, Misato, you know that your father’s work is all about airplanes, right? In the world of aviation, we use a measure of distance called a mile.
“There are both sea miles and land miles, but even within the category of land miles, there are international miles, survey miles, statute miles, and a number of others—all of which differ in length by country. It’s a huge pain.
“However, when it comes to
the land and sea, in the aviation and maritime industries, everyone uses the same nautical mile as the main unit of measurement. The sky and sea are connected throughout the whole world, meaning it would be a problem if every country used measurements of their own.
“Unlike land miles, which follow a number of different standards, nautical miles have only one measure. If you travel once around the world, from north to south, you would go 360 degrees. Each mark of that latitude is 60 miles, and so 1/60th of that will always be one mile.
“The kanji for ‘Misato’ can also be read ‘Kairi.’ And that word is the Japanese term for a nautical mile.
“No matter where you go in the world, a nautical mile is always the same. I wanted to find a name that conveyed those universal qualities, and that’s why we picked your name.’
The girl let the feather pen glide along the page, inscribing her name.
Mile.
And so, the rookie hunter “Mile” was born.
Mile filled in the rest of the fields on the form.
Gender? Female. Age? Twelve. Occupation? Magic user. Specialization? None. Seeking a party? No. Past history and commendations as a hunter? None.
She returned the completed form to the clerk at the window, who accepted it without protest. “Miss Mile, is it?” she said. “Are you from around here?”
“No, I was born deep in the mountains, but both my parents passed away. Now I have to make it on my own, and there is no other work I can do…”
“I-I’m so sorry. I overstepped… Well, let’s get you acquainted with the guild!”
The explanation that Laura, the clerk, proceeded to give her was more or less the same as what she’d heard from the boys in her class.
Hunters had eight ranks, lettered G through S.
G-rank was reserved for what were called “guild hopefuls”—children six to nine years of age who were given odd jobs around the town or tasks such as accompanying those who went out to collect herbs.
At ten years old, these hopefuls were allowed to become proper guild members, but they started out at F, the lowest rank, and could only be tasked with collecting plants and minerals; tracking birds, deer, and wild boars for harvest; and weeding out jackalopes and other lesser monsters.
At E-rank, they could take on goblins and orcs, and at D-rank, restrictions were finally removed from the hunters.
Still, D-ranks had somewhat of a lesser reputation, and though it was not unheard of for them to be offered jobs such as being bodyguards and the like, most employers only sought hunters of C-rank and above.
Indeed, C-rankers were what would normally be thought of as “full-fledged hunters,” and their ranks were the largest. Thanks to this, however, their ability levels were greatly varied—from just beyond D-rank to just before B-rank.
B-ranks were first class, and highly esteemed, especially in smaller towns in the country. A-ranks were veritable legends, while anyone who reached S-rank—the highest tier—was heralded as a hero.
However, there were but a few S-ranks, even within the royal capital.
Promotions were decided by committee, based on a hunter’s completed jobs, achievements, and contributions to the guild. However, in some rare cases, only a minimum amount of time was required to be registered before a promotion occurred.
Promotion fraud was absolutely forbidden, and anyone caught undermining the system could be permanently expelled from the guild, no matter their position. In the worst cases, hunters had even been known to be executed. Therefore, there wasn’t a soul who would let themselves be led astray by anything less than a king’s ransom.
Guild members were expected to settle any internal disputes amongst themselves, so long as they remained petty quarrels. In the event that a hunter committed an actual crime, they were tried and punished by both the guild and the local law enforcement. The guild members were still citizens of the town, and a crime was a crime, so violent conduct and extortion and the like were dealt with accordingly.
As the clerk continued her explanation, the hunter’s badge, which she’d apparently started making after receiving the girl’s paperwork, was completed. It was a small iron tag, worn on a chain around the neck. On it was engraved an “F” (or rather, that world’s equivalent of the letter), as well as Mile’s name, the name of the guildhall, and a registration number.
Of course, as it was not equipped with any secret functions that automatically logged monster kills, nor received urgent messages from the guild, it was necessary to bring back a trophy as proof every time one killed a monster. If one relocated to another town, it was necessary for a letter of introduction and an assessment record to be forwarded to the new guildhall before the transfer could be finalized.
In order to preserve confidentiality, the specifics of these transfers were never made public, so there was no danger of revealing one’s whereabouts.
“Should you encounter the body of a hunter anywhere,” Laura said, “please retrieve and return that hunter’s mark. We will need to contact the family of the departed and process their removal from the register. Then, once their hunter’s badge has been marked as invalid, we return it to the family as a memento. Whoever returns the tag will of course receive a humble sum from the guild as a reward. In some cases, the relatives will also offer the finder a token of their gratitude. And of course, all items found on the body at the time of discovery, including weapons and armor, become the property of the finder.”
As the clerk handed Mile her badge, she continued her explanation.
The reward money was only a pittance, rendering it unlikely that a hunter would continually “find” other hunters’ bodies without good reason. This discouraged the hunting of other hunters. Indeed, it sounded as though this system had been put in place just for this purpose, to encourage the proper return of tags rather than the theft of deceased hunter’s belongings.
Her overview then complete, the clerk turned once more to Mile and said, “Welcome to the Hunters’ Guild!”
***
That evening, Mile lay in a bed at the inn nearest the guildhall, planning for the following day.
There were many jobs for F-rank hunters. However, these were not individual requests, but rather outstanding orders, or calls for material to be gathered in the area surrounding the town. Such orders meant that new job requests weren’t issued daily, but rather, kept perpetually on the guild’s records, so hunters could hunt and harvest as they pleased without giving formal notice and then simply bring back their trophies and goods to the delivery point to collect their payment. The listing was always accompanied by the daily reward for goblin slaying or medicinal herbs or jackalope meat—whatever good or service happened to be in demand during that particular season.
Other harvested goods weren’t covered by these outstanding orders, but there were certain items for which one could always find a buyer, provided they appraised well. These included birds, boars, and deer, edible tree fruits and mushrooms, wild vegetables, ores and minerals, and many other items. They were assessed by size and quality, with their monetary value changing according to the prices set in the city markets each day.
If Mile were only taking outstanding orders and harvesting, this would save her the trouble of waking up early to pack into the crowded guild for the daily assignment of new tasks. All she had to do was go straight from the inn to the forest.
There were also certain ways that Mile, an F-rank hunter, could hunt higher-ranked monsters than jackalopes in order to earn more money. One of those ways was to join a party, but that was something Mile wasn’t considering. Another way was to hunt down monsters from higher-ranked outstanding orders.
The job ranks were largely in place to prevent inexperienced hunters from taking on jobs they weren’t prepared for and losing their lives, as well as to minimize the failure rate for jobs that the guild accepted. On outstanding orders, which were not assigned like individual requests, there were no failure rates: if you failed, you could just do it over again.
Plus, the value of materials requested via outstanding orders never changed.
Of course, this wasn’t especially recommended, but as long as one acknowledged the risks and took responsibility for oneself, the guild would turn a blind eye. However, Mile had no intention of trying her hand at battling higher-ranked monsters unless they happened upon her. She was just a normal, average F-rank hunter, after all.
As for why she chose the path of a hunter, there were several reasons. Firstly, it was something that anyone could become, no matter their age or appearance. With a hunter’s badge, she could easily and openly cross territorial and national borders. Thus, in the event that her name and reputation somehow spread to other countries, she could simply move to a faraway land and start over again as a newly registered F-rank hunter under a new name.
Also, as she would only be facing monsters and beasts, it wasn’t a big deal if she slipped up in limiting her power. Indeed, if she acted alone, she could use her magic and sword abilities as she pleased without others noticing. And if something unfortunate happened, she could immediately transfer to another country. By keeping her distance from other hunters, she could disappear without a trace and no one would care.
Besides, if she’d had to tend a shop from morning until night every single day, she would’ve been bored out of her skull. Once a week had been one thing, but she’d prefer to be able to save up enough to live a peaceful life of matrimony some time in the future.
With these reasons in mind, she couldn’t think of any other career that she could possibly wish to undertake—especially considering the fact that, above all, a hunter was a completely mundane, average, normal career, one that any old dunce could do.
***
The following day, Mile woke up bright and early to hurry out on her first job.
As she could use harvesting magic, she didn’t need any bags. However, if she were to go around empty-handed, people might realize that she was doing something unusual, so she slung a bag over her back. This was only to carry her spoils. The bread for her lunch and her water skin were stored away in the loot box space, so as to keep them from being damaged. The only equipment she wore was her leather breast plate and boots, along with the mystery sword at her waist. She looked very much like a novice hunter.
