Frank was just your ordinary 16-year old teenage boy; he had a small circle of friends that he hanged out with after class. He didn’t have any problems with his family, and he already had a career path as a doctor in mind.
He did get in to fantasy novels after he saw a man save a woman from a bunch of thugs. The man did it so quickly, that the young Frank thought he was a hero. And oh boy, did he admire that hero.
In any case, while he did have his share of problems, it wasn’t to the point where he ever thought of going to another world like in those fantasy novels he sometimes read when he got bored of playing computer games.
That was, until one summer day, he was just crossing the road, and then he found himself in the middle of the forest.
No, there was no truck or car accident that hit him; neither did any magic circle or portal that sucked him in to another world.
He just straight up appeared in a forest and got surrounded by a bunch of goblins. He ended up being saved by a bunch of adventurers, who only did it for the sake of their reputation and promptly left him penniless and completely confused about what to do in the world.
System? None. Cheat? None. OP grandpa? Nope! Modern Knowledge? Not even a return by death. What could a man who did not even pay much attention to their high school lessons and got barely passing grades do with such knowledge.
He was not fit for a medieval world, he did not have an artisan background nor the strength to work as a peasant, at the very least he seemed to have been able to speak the region’s language, although he did not know if some god had done some fuckery with his brain.
So what could a 16-year old teenage boy who found himself in magical fantasy world do to place food on his table? Why of course, become an adventurer. He had to struggle every day to pick out enough lone goblins or pick enough herbs to turn over to the adventurer’s guild and get paid by the local government. It took him years to pay the loans he took at the start of his adventure so he could get legal documents and a roof over his head,
He couldn't even contemplate on his sudden transference, all that was on his mind was living another day.
He had told the secret behind his origins to an kindly old mage. The old man had used some sort of magic to awaken something called a “soul weapon”. Frank’s soul weapon was a sword that could pinpoint the weak spots and openings of an enemy, he didn’t even have to use the sword, merely have it out.
The old man ended up trying to use some sort of mind-altering magic to control Frank, to which he stabbed the man out of fear and a deep sense of betrayal. Luckily, the old man had not cast any spell to protect himself because he had thought that Frank would be too naive to even think about stabbing him while he cast his mind magic.
That day, Frank swore to never tell his origins to anyone ever again, it had no use, and would only complicate things. He was not Frank, the boy from another world anymore; he was Frank, a battle-hardened adventurer.
He obviously had to flee from his ‘starter village’; he hopped from the Fox province to the Byrd Province, along with his childhood friend, George. Fortunately, the crime of killing a mage had never been pinned on him.
Despite what happened with the old man, Frank still considered that day one of the luckiest days in his life, as with the soul weapon his adventuring career had gone smoothly, and he had a stable-income that could probably sustain a family, if not for the fact that he had to travel from city to city
Unlike in other isekai stories, he did not achieve anything great, he was just another adventurer of many, even if he was a bit higher up on the ladder.
Well, he did become a local hero when he saved a small town from a group of wounded trolls, which wounds he happily exploited with his soul weapon. He just happened to be there, and have a good match-up and reliable allies, but he wore it with pride.
Frank took his non-soul weapon sword out of the heart of a fallen goblin, after pulling out the sword; he noticed it was in quite the rough condition, it would probably dull in time. He decided to just salvage it instead of repairing.
“That’s another camp cleared out, why are there so many goblins near the capital?” He asked while he collected the ears of the goblin as proof that he had slain them.
As for the corpse, usually they just burned them or buried them in the soil as nutrients for the plants, there was really no part of a goblin that was useful to humans. Well, aside from the money that comes from exterminating them.
They were very protective of their tribes, and attacked all civilians they meet, so there was a decree to wipe out all goblin encampments within a 30 kilometer radius of any city, safe to say, there were plenty of goblins to slay for adventurers.
“The Great Leyline, goblins are monsters born of magic, since the magic is abundant here, so are the monsters. The Royal Knights are busy clearing out bigger things such as Mountain Trolls, so they leave smaller things to adventurers such as us.” An adventurer based in the capital spoke.
“Ah, I see, I’m surprised though; you’d think the city with the highest population wouldn’t have such an infestation.” George said while he took out his dagger soul weapon from a goblin that got close to them.
“Well most people in the capital are either stuck-up nobility or stuck-up non-nobility who think that goblin slaying is above them. I swear us newbie adventurers have the same reputation as garbage collectors in the capital.” The adventurer replied.
“That’s actually a better career path honestly; take it from someone who’s been in the job for fifteen years.” Frank quipped while looking around the destroyed encampment for any valuable loot, and as expected, he found none.
“Haha! Yeah, you’re right, I got roped into the job as a kid because I saw how the royal knights worked and thought I could do the same as an adventurer, turns out I would have been better off pursuing proper education.”
“Well, you should look into getting out of the capital if you want to make a name for yourself, helps when slaying a group of mountain trolls isn’t something that the local populace see every day.” Amala, a female adventurer who Frank befriended in the Byrd Province.
Female adventurers were rare as their body was physically weaker than men, and their monthly period oftentimes got in the way of their career, but there were a few, most who did so out of desperation or losing their family early on.
“Mhm, well, let’s continue our talk in a tavern, there’s on next to the city’s Guild.” The adventurer nodded, stomach rumbling .
“You just want us to pay for you, huh?” Frank asked sarcastically, and upon seeing the adventurer’s timid reaction, he was spot on.
“Well, as someone more experienced in the job you should treat the younger generation for their hard work, right?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, as long as you don’t go over 50 bronze points in expenses, it’s all on me!” Frank let out a grin.
“Frank, not sure if giving him barely enough for a plate of baked salmon counts as ‘all on you’.” George retored.
“Eh, no need to stress on the specifics, c’mon let’s get going, all that fighting makes you hungry.”
The banter continued until they had reached the capital, they turned in the goblin ears and a few words to make sure they had cleared an encampment, and got rewarded accordingly. The split of rewards got decided before the quest, so someone’s reputation had a big impact on how big a portion of their rewards were.
“Ah, Sir Frank, you’re a rank 4 adventurer?” The receptionist said in a bit of shock, as rank 3 was the ordinary limit an adventurer could gain by simply slaying monsters.
For a rank 4, they had to perform a particularly meritorious service such as saving a town from a large amount of casualties, in other words, by performing what is beyond necessary for any normal adventurer. Rank 4s were local heroes.
“Yeah, I saved a town in the Byrd region, it was called Bruchsfield.” Frank spoke.
“Ah, welcome to the royal capital then, Hero of Bruchsfield.” The receptionist smiled.
The men and women in the Guild looked at him with appreciation, while Rank 4 adventurers weren’t all too rare; they were still uncommon and usually outwardly decent people.
George and Amala looked at him with a slight smile, he felt that they deserved the title too, but they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The party of 4 walked towards a tavern next door, apparently named ‘Rabbit’s Horn’, which was an odd name considering rabbits did not really possess horns, it was probably a name from an old fairytale book, a common naming sense within Invicta.
The four sat on the bar, and ordered some food and drinks. Meat was expensive in the capital since monsters would usually get to the livestock first, but there were big farms ran by mages.
Hence, the common adventurer could not afford meat, but a veteran one who was feeling a little extravagant would. And what better time was there to be extravagant than one’s first visit to the capital?
So, Amala had convinced Frank and George to loosen their wallets a bit and buy some roasted pork with mashed potatoes, they were feeling generous enough to give the newbie some. Who cried after days of eating only gruel.
“So what brings you three to the capital?” The newbie adventurer asked the veterans.
“Ah, a temporary contract with the Great Leyline Academy, apparently they are accepting parties with over 10 years of experience as temporary instructors, though only for one day.” Frank spoke.
“Huh, didn’t know the academy was that desperate. Seems a bit strange even if it was for only a single day.” The newbie quipped.
“Well they ain’t just accepting any party, boy. They’re accepting permanent parties.” George said with a hint of pride.
“You three are a permanent party of 3? That’s rare, I wish I had one, but everyone have their own dreams and places to go to.”
Adventurers were a very whimsical bunch, as many used adventuring as a means to an end, and would usually settle down in a city or stay in one for a long amount of time to do what they wanted to do, so very rarely would a permanent party form. Usually, adventurers were expected to know how to work with complete strangers, so a permanent party would be stronger than average.
“Well, only a band of misfits and social rejects like us would become an adventuring party, we have nowhere to go, so we just go wherever the flow of mana takes us.” Amal said after taking a chunk of roasted pork.
“Huh, in hindsight wouldn’t it be bad for permanent parties to teach the children of the academy? Wouldn’t set the most realistic expectations for adventuring classes.” The newbie questioned.
“HA! As if the academy took adventurers seriously, the principal was born before the kingdom had enough territory for the guild to even be necessary, so all those arrogant instructors just wanna make the course look good by hiring permanent parties.” George spoke.
Frank laughed, and then added to what George had said, not before gulping down a mug of beer to get a little tipsy.
“It’s perfect for those nobles, probably gonna say some poetic shit like ‘camaraderie and friendship is important in adventuring’, it’s important in chatting in taverns and inns I’d say, but what’s important in adventuring is stabbing the goblin instead of the guy engaged in a melee with said goblin.”
Frank would have never said these words had this been fifteen years ago, but he had long since realized his expectations of a bright and happy isekailand were but a children’s dream.
He wondered if there were any otherworlders in as much pain as him.
Though, they would have long learned to never reveal that fact.
“Frank, bud, you’re spacing out again.” George patted him in the back.
“Ah, sorry ‘bout that.”
The four continued to eat in the tavern, ravenously gobbling down roasted pork and getting drunk, the bartender had even told them about a limit on alcohol, as a drunk man with a soul weapon was a very unprofitable thing in Acetia.
“Hmm, I wonder if I can be assigned to the class of some duke or duchess. Then I’ll impress ‘em and become their knight and rise to fame!” Frank exclaimed while doing his best impression of a chivalrous knight self.
“Haha! I love it when you’re drunk Frank, reminds me of when we fooled around as children. Though it would be cool to meet a duke or duchess and boss ‘em around, hopefully the instructor allows us to do that.” George said, while chugging down a glass of ale.
“Huh, I’d like that yes. Let’s look forward to tomorrow, yeah? Cheers!” Amala smiled, raising her mug of ale.
The three raised their mug of ale, and the newbie joined in, feeling a bit awkward. Once the three finished they walked out of the tavern to find a cheap in as accommodations.
“Hah, I’m beat, hopefully the hangover tomorrow isn’t too bad, well, I guess the contract starts on Thursday, so we should be fine, its only Tuesday night.” Frank absentmindedly spoke.
“Yeah…” Amala answered, but she spotted a shady-looking adventurer who had a scar on his face carrying a big casket.
“Hey, you there! Monster materials are to be turned in to the guild, carrying them around the city is illegal unless you have permission, may I see your license and any pending quests?” She approached the man, George and Frank followed. She did not actually know if it was monster materials, but the casket looked big enough to house an orc.
“Well, let’s chase after him, might be a criminal with a bounty. Heard there were some illegal alchemy stuff made with monster parts, guy might be a wanted criminal.” Frank yelled.
Amala took out her soul weapon, a throwing knife, it hit the back of the man, but bounced straight off, to her surprise. It was fine however, as she could track him down wherever he went from that one hit.
They eventually chased him to an alleyway, the man having a creepy and unsettling smile on his face.
There was no time to exchange dialogue, as they went into combat immediately.
The man charged towards Amala, who responded by taking out a dagger and thrusting at the man’s torso, but he just went up and rolled out of the way, distancing himself enough to recover without taking a hit.
The man took out a spear from god-knows-where and impaled Amala with it.
“Shit!” Frank explained, Amala could still be healed by a mage, and it was easy to find one in the capital. But he knew the man was strong, so he had to end it quick.
He took out his soul weapon, despite his bodies’ rejection.
Wordlessly, both him and George attacked in sync, leaving no openings where the creepy man could escape.
Then, George’s eyes widened.
“No… weakness? This can’t be… even a young dragon would have a weak point.”
Immediately, the man’s body shifted, his figure became smaller, ears became pointier.
He looked very odd, and his armor was too small for him, no, her, now.
A white-haired girl with grey eyes.
‘Isn’t that, the third elven princess?”
He had no room for hesitation though, so he took the chance as he continued charging towards the creepy guy-turned-creepy little girl.
What happened to him was as if he missed, but he was sure he swung towards the girl, it was as if his soul weapon was never pointed toward the girl at all.
“Oh, neat, it works on soul weapons too. You two have to die now, though.” She gently spoke.
In an instant, their bodies lay lifeless on the floor. Frank, man from another word, hero of Bruchsfield, and his best friend George’s 15 years of adventuring were brought to an end with not even a single action on the enemy’s part.
Llamiryl took out a communication pearl.
“Hey Dai, you said this paste thing lasts for 8 hours? It only lasted for 6.”
Louis responded.
“I said it COULD, last for 8 hours if I adjusted the solution fit your physique, not that it would from the get-go.”
“Well, its fine I guess, no one discovered.” Llamiryl was getting ready to teleport out, as the city guards may have heard Amala’s scream.
‘Ah, well, I lived a shitty life, but at least it ends now.’ These were Frank’s last thoughts as his soul left his lifeless body.
“Wait, is that?....” Llamiryl exclaimed in surprise.
I see how it is Author San, pls kill me in a violent and gory way
Very well then... Dunno when I'll need a mob character to die a violent and gory way but I'll be sure to name em Cain.