episode_0008

Wherever I went, I swapped out eye-catching, splendid armor for ordinary attire, traversed mountains and rivers, and finally arrived at the kingdom of Herbor. There, I decided to settle in a city called Vesperia.

It was a pleasant city. The downtown area was lively, the public safety was excellent, and the cost of living was relatively moderate for a large city. Even though it was only at a level similar to the Middle Ages, in this world, belonging to a city like this was more than enough to live comfortably for a lifetime.

My original goal of quietly living in seclusion couldn’t be achieved. Well, there was an unexpected problem, one that I should have naturally considered.

What was the problem? Well, it was obviously my status and occupation issue. Once I had resolved to live decently, I needed to earn money to make ends meet, and to earn money, I had to work… but that was impossible for me.

Unless I revealed my identity as Brunhilde Einstein, I was ultimately nothing more than an unidentified foreigner. Unless there was a local who could vouch for my identity, bluntly speaking, I was in a situation no different from being an illegal resident.

As for kind-hearted employers who would hire such a person, they were only found among the proprietors of taverns or the patrons of the red-light district.

If I had some exceptional skill, perhaps I could have applied for work in those industries. Cooking, leatherworking, blacksmithing, for example. In actual medieval times, this would have been impossible, but in this world, being a woman doing such work was feasible.

However, this was an unrealistic option. Whether it was Brunhilde’s body or my own, the only known skill was the ability to use acupuncture.

So, what could I do? If I didn’t want to engage in prostitution, there was only one option left.

“Welcome! How may I assist you?”

One of the few jobs available that would hire even a vagrant or a greenhorn upon application.

“…I’ve come to register as an adventurer.”

Becoming an adventurer was the only choice.

◆◆

After that, well, it’s as you see.

I became a shield adventurer named Hilde and, after about a month of various odd jobs, was able to advance to become an iron-ranked adventurer. That was roughly a fortnight ago. I think I must have killed around thirty people during that time. They were party members who turned into looters. …It’s not my fault. Really. It was all in self-defense, you know? Maybe it’s because of the guild’s open employment policy, where even bandits and greenhorns are welcomed with open arms. Encounters with trash seemed to happen twice as often as when I wandered alone. Anyway, that’s how I became ‘Iron Wall’ Hilde, an iron-ranked adventurer of the Vespean Adventurer Guild.

Perhaps it’s because I never take off my helmet even when eating, or because I always responded with “It wasn’t my fault” after wiping out party members, that such a nickname got attached to my name at some point. It’s really embarrassing. Originally, a nickname was like a badge of skill and reputation for adventurers. Something like “Gale” this or “Orc Slayer” that. You know, that kind of thing. Should I call it proof that I’m such a successful adventurer that I can afford to be picky? So adventurers tend to be pleased when they gain a nickname. It means their skills have been recognized by everyone else. But that’s at least the story for adventurers of silver rank or higher. For an iron-ranked adventurer like me to get a nickname… What should I say? It was like pinning a yellow shoulder patch on a new recruit with a unique personality in the army… It’s a warning to handle with care, right? I felt unjustly treated. Really. Thanks to looters’ pockets, my daily income was three times that of the average iron-ranked adventurer, but still, it was an utterly unfair situation. “If you can’t speak…” Of course, although I tried to explain, the receptionist just sighed deeply, like an older sister looking at her runaway younger sister who had returned.

◆◆

Oh, the receptionist did have a runaway younger sister who actually returned. Her name was probably Uni? She was a girl who, despite her older sister not allowing her to become an adventurer, ran away to another city in resentment.

I happened to pass by that alley where I could have been caught and become a plaything for the thieves. It was pure chance that I found and rescued her.

The receptionist girl diligently shielding me was probably due to that. If not for her, I might have ended up being the target of dozens of pranks.

Of course, there were more practical reasons than just emotional gratitude. It meant that I had managed to take down twenty bandits without a scratch, indicating that my skills were at least on par with a bronze-ranked adventurer.

Having bronze-level skills at the age of twenty implied a talent capable of surpassing even silver or gold ranks within a few years. From the perspective of the guild staff, it was an opportunity not to be missed.

When an adventurer under their charge ascends to silver or gold rank, the bonuses received by the staff are substantial.

Ironically, despite killing over forty adventurers in just a month and a half, I found myself not being promoted, but rather facing expulsion… a situation that was far from amusing.

Honestly, it’s not my fault, but rather the fault of this world where the concepts of conscience and morality seem to have been thrown into some sewer somewhere.

If this weren’t some lawless den, but a society where law and justice, ethics and order stood firm, would I have ever faced the threat of demotion? Instead, I might have received a medal.

If a police officer single-handedly apprehends one hundred and fifty gangsters, they might even rise to the position of chief.

“—Isn’t that right? I’ve killed forty robbers, where else can you find such an achievement? Instead of expulsion, shouldn’t I be promoted to bronze?”

Feeling a bit unjust, I complained to the receptionist girl, only to receive a regrettable response.

“…Miss Hilde, are you perhaps not here?”

Shamefully, that was the response I got, along with a face that seemed to question how I could even say such a thing.

“Yes? Oh, yes. Well, yeah.”

I nodded with a sheepish expression. It was a sudden outburst, but in reality, she wasn’t actually absent.

“Sure, my parents aren’t around, but….”

“No, no, not your parents! Why are you trying to make me look like a villain…!”

The receptionist girl jolted in surprise, looking around with raised shoulders.

She realized she had forgotten her underwear when she arrived at the bustling market. Her face turned as red as a young girl who had just come to this realization.

“Did you mean to curse at your parents?”

“What…! It’s a matter of conscience, my conscience!”

Ah, was that what it was? In Korea, if you ask “Don’t you have parents?” it’s a common way of asking about their well-being. I had mistaken it for something else entirely.

Should I call it an “Eastern courtesy country”? It was a place where people asked about the existence of others’ parents ten or more times a day. I had asked many times myself.

“Conscience? If that’s the case, it’s overflowing to the point of being troublesome.”

If that’s the case, it’s overflowing abundantly. Even if you don’t know, if you were to look into this heart, it would probably be about 60% full of conscience. The remaining 40% is resentment.

“If I didn’t have a conscience, I wouldn’t be catching robbers; I’d be the robber. You know. If it were at the level of torture, you wouldn’t be able to beat me.”

“That’s…! I mean, that’s the meaning… Ha, really… Ugh…”

Whether it was due to my perfect self-defense or not, the receptionist closed her eyes like a prosecutor who had lost a legal battle and let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, and I’ve been thinking.”

I decided to say one more thing while I was at it. Honestly, it was a complaint I had wanted to voice at least once.

“Wouldn’t the problem be solved if you assigned verified party members? By always taking out newbies, aren’t you meeting robbers particularly often?”

It was obviously a valid point. She nodded her head in defeat without being able to refute it, like Socrates.

However, the receptionist did not admit defeat. She was a formidable opponent.

“Excuse me, Miss Hilde. Do you happen to remember a Bedi?”

Bedi? Who was that again? I blinked my eyes, tilting my head in confusion.

“…You don’t seem to remember. He’s an adventurer who accompanied you on a wild slime-collecting request shortly after you started wearing the shield.”

Ah, I remembered. There was such a person.

“…That was a mistake back then.”

“Yes, it must have been a mistake. You intended to relax him by patting his shoulder, but you ended up cutting off Bedi’s left arm. Nevertheless, you did bring him back.”

That was a real mistake. It happened not long after I had killed over a hundred people, during a time when I was extremely cautious about everything around me.

It startled me more than Bedivere losing his arm.

“Mr. Rick merely missed with his arrow, hitting the armor, and Mr. Hamilton just slipped on mud and lost his balance. Isn’t that right?”

“….”

Well… I guess… there were mistakes like that.

I was hit in the back by an arrow, so instinctively, I just swung my sword in that direction, and someone attacked from behind, so without realizing it, I grabbed their arm and struck it with my knee.

“You sent over ten native adventurers to the infirmary, and now you’re asking for verified party members to be assigned to you? Is that even possible?”

“…I’m sorry.”

I had nothing to say, so I bowed my head.

Looking back, I did have quite a few accidents during my shield days.

It was a time when even a slight surprise would make me immediately swing my sword.