“Wait, what?” Sol looked at his friends in a daze as his brain struggled to comprehend what they had just said.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Mark sighed, then repeated himself. “You’re fired from Black Tiger as of today, Sol.”
“This is a foregone decision jointly made by Mark, the party leader, and me, the vice leader,” said Alan, confirming that Sol had not heard wrong.
The spacious room was plunged into silence. The members of Black Tiger were in the middle of celebrating their promised promotion. They had the place to themselves, the food and drinks were exquisite, and they were having a great time reminiscing about the past, which was something that seemed to never grow old. They had laughed about how they had played at being adventurers when they were kids. The five of them had gathered in the tucked-away nook in their village that served as their secret base and sworn on their handmade toy weapons that they would become a “super-duper uber-famous party” and conquer all the dungeons.
Then came that fateful day when they turned twelve and received the talents that allowed them to become adventurers. They were over the moon and ready to take on the world. Then, beyond their wildest dreams, they got to attend the Royal Academy in the capital. During those three years, they were treated as honor students and lauded by all as “the Miracle Children.” Naturally, they graduated as the top party of their year. They were extremely nervous when they turned down the offer from the royal army in order to found Black Tiger, but also full of both bravado and genuine confidence. Everything after that was history—they shot up through the ranks at record speed and reached Rank B in two years. Now, their promotion to Rank A, an honor held by less than ten parties on the continent, was confirmed. They felt invincible, having turned empty lives in a backward village into lives where they had everything they could ever want and every day was filled with excitement. All at the age of seventeen, to boot.
Normally, this was when they all allowed themselves to indulge in the food, drinks, and feelings of achievement, and the friction in the party and materializing deep-rooted discontent would fade away under the dazzling light of success. Today, however, things took a strange turn when the topic came to Black Tiger’s future. Mark wanted them to continue adventuring for a time but eventually join the army to seek fame and distinction. On the other hand, Alan wanted them to join a prominent clan that would appreciate them properly. The discussion started getting heated, but the girls ignored them because it was a common occurrence.
One thing was different this time, though. Sol, who would normally stay silent, spoke up, fervently arguing that now that they were Rank A and had the freedom to do whatever they wanted, joining the army would essentially be subjecting themselves to stifling regulations and therefore was out of the question. Similarly, joining a clan would mean being tied down by obligations, and the cons would eventually outweigh the pros.
Sol was making his speech partly because, even though he felt that Black Tiger was still lacking in strength, he was very excited that being Rank A meant they finally had the freedom to visit Adventurer’s Guild branches in other countries. Another big factor was that he had made up his mind to divulge what Player really did, as he had come to the conclusion that hiding it any further would be an exercise in futility.
Unfortunately, he was not the only person who had decided to get something off his chest now that they had reached Rank A.
“You should have spoken up earlier,” Mark spat, then clicked his tongue in irritation. “That way, we wouldn’t have to listen to bull like ‘Oh, it would be weird for us to join the army’ or ‘But joining a prominent clan isn’t what we promised’ from a guy who can’t perform at the Rank A level.”
In a quiet voice and with an uncomfortable smile, Alan added, “I admit that your talent is useful, but that’s only for parties up to Rank C. Ever since we reached Rank B, you’ve honestly been nothing but deadweight. Today’s fight was a prime example. Now that we’re climbing to Rank A, we don’t need you anymore.”
This was a harsh evaluation, but one that sounded reasonable to someone who didn’t know what Player actually did—in other words, everyone besides Sol. Unfortunately, it was based on a completely warped misconception of Player, one which Mark seemed to share. It had never once crossed their minds that the one who always looked on so enviously as they flaunted their flashy fighting skills was actually the one who had given them those skills. They thought that Player was nothing more than a support talent useful only to starting and mid-level adventurers with skills such as Mapping and Enemy Detection to help them keep track of enemies. They were thoroughly convinced that now that they had enough experience under their belts to be recognized as Rank A, they no longer needed what he could bring to the table.
“Which is why it’s no longer your business whether we go with the army or a clan!”
“Mark could be expressing himself better, but he’s not wrong. The army brass and clan reps who approached us both had doubts about you. Also...”
The two of them were indeed a little drunk. Their self-control was looser than usual, and someone they thought of as little more than a leech at this point was bringing up fanciful dreams from their childhood, which rubbed them the wrong way.
They were now so strong that they had left most other adventurers in the dust, but being that strong only made them all the more aware how impossible it was to “conquer all the dungeons.” Despite the fancy Rank A title they had just earned, dealing with a territory boss was the limit of what they could achieve. The feat was a once-in-a-century achievement, and it definitely proved that they deserved to be promoted, but they couldn’t make it farther than the tenth floor in a no-name dungeon in the sticks, much less conquer it. Now that they were pros and knew the harshness of reality, it was no longer possible for them to seriously consider the dreams they had dreamed when they knew nothing of the world.
Mark and Alan fully believed that they had killed the Great Demonic Basilisk easily enough, but even they were thoroughly terrified by the thought of facing a monster from the lower floors of a dungeon, no matter how small it was. Once, Black Tiger had gotten a little overconfident and pushed through to the ninth floor, and the difference in strength between their opponents and themselves had been overwhelming. They had realized they could train for years and still never match up. Luck had given them talents to fight with, but there was a limit. No man could ever stand up to the monsters dwelling in the depths of the dungeons. There were myths about a hero who had had the strength to defeat dragons, but that was all they were: myths.
Over the past two years, Mark and Alan had learned what their limits were. Only death lay in store for someone who insisted on reaching for heights that were the exclusive realm of legends.
“You don’t want to die, right?” Alan asked in the tone that adults used when reasoning with children.
“No... No, I don’t,” Sol conceded.
This was no lie. He didn’t have the conviction to put his life on the line to realize his childhood dream. He wasn’t the kind of person who could say, “If I die running toward my dream, then I’ve lived a short but full life!” and mean it one hundred percent. He most certainly did not want to die. That was why he had hidden his abilities from even his closest friends.