"Is something wrong?" I asked, noticing the strange look on Nya's face.
"N-no, nothing's wrong, ma'am," she stammered, not looking at me. "I'll... I'll just finish the registration."
"Sure," I said, my gaze lingering on her for a moment.
I'm not stupid. Her entire demeanor had changed. The awe and a bit of fear in her eyes turned into something else. Something more... complicated. Respect, yes, but also a deep, abiding sadness. And a hint of something else... was it recognition?
The only possible explanation is that the name 'Pendragon' holds some kind of weight in this world. A legacy? A burden?.
'A noble family or a criminal organization?' I wondered. 'A famous hero or a notorious villain?'
Whatever it was, it had clearly struck a chord with Nya.
When the cat girl left the room, I swiftly pulled my new favorite tool, the smartphone, and searched for the name "Pendragon".
The search results were... more than I expected.
The Pendragon family was, or rather, had been, one of the most prominent and powerful noble houses in all of Blue Star. They were a clan of legendary heroes, renowned for their immense power, unwavering righteousness, and their signature dragon-slaying techniques.
For centuries, the Pendragons had been at the forefront of the fight against the forces of darkness, from rampaging monster hordes to demonic invasions. They were symbols of hope, pillars of strength, and the envy of every other noble house.
The head of the family, the current 'Arthur Pendragon', was an S-rank hero, a living legend who was said to be the strongest human swordsman alive. He was a celebrated figure, a national hero.
And then, five years ago, it all came crashing down.
The House of Pendragon was accused of treason.
The evidence was damning. They were said to have been in league with a demonic cult, plotting to overthrow the ruling council of the First Mega-City and usher in an age of darkness.
The accusations were backed by what appeared to be irrefutable proof. Sealed demonic contracts, intercepted communications, and the testimony of several high-ranking officials.
The once-glorious family was cast down. Their lands were seized, their titles stripped, and their name became synonymous with betrayal and shame.
Fortunately, most of the family members escaped the execution. They vanished overnight, becoming fugitives, hunted by the very people they had once protected.
'What a story,' I thought, a slow smile spreading across my lips. 'A family of heroes, betrayed and cast down. This is... perfect.'
This name, this legacy, was a shield. A disguise. And a weapon.
However, what confused me a little was the public reaction to the family's fall. It was... strange. While many people were quick to condemn them, there was also a significant portion of the population that refused to believe the accusations. They saw it as a conspiracy, a political maneuver to eliminate a powerful rival.
The Pendragons were banned from entering the First Mega-City, where most of the 'hatred' for them was concentrated, but in other cities, people still respect them.
In Neo-Tokyo, for example, the public opinion was divided, but there was a definite undercurrent of sympathy for the family.
In fact, the most hated thing in the whole world is the First Mega-City's ruling council, not the Pendragons. Most people saw the council's conspiracy in using Pendragons as a scapegoat.
Which is good for me, I can use this 'sympathy' to my advantage.
'I need to be careful,' I thought, my mind racing. 'Didn't expect that my old mentor's last name would carry so much baggage in this world.'
Anyway, what was done is done. I already used the name; there's no turning back now.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Pendragon?" the attendant asked, holding up a black leather suit that looked like it had been molded for my body.
"It's perfect," I said, my lips curling into a smile.
The suit was a masterpiece. It was made from a special type of leather, infused with mithril threads, which made it both lightweight and incredibly durable. It was form-fitting, hugging my curves in all the right places, while still allowing for a full range of motion. It was also enchanted with minor protection spells and a charm that helped to mask my presence.
For weapons, I chose a pair of short, curved daggers, their blades made of a dark, gleaming metal that seemed to absorb the light. They were simple, elegant, and deadly.
As for supplies, I got the standard: healing potions, mana potions, antidotes, and a few other miscellaneous items.
For Ron, I got him a simple set of leather armor, a good-quality steel dagger, and a small, sturdy backpack. It was nothing fancy, but it was better than nothing.
I thought about picking the best items for him, but then I noticed that he was uncomfortable with all the attention. He kept his head down, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
And with the recent discovery of my last name, I decided to portray him in the eyes of the public as my 'lowly assistant'.
To make people look down on him, to underestimate him, and forget about him.
A 'lowly assistant' to a powerful A-rank adventurer? Nobody will pay too much attention to him.
And a tool that is not seen is always more effective.
...
"Here you go, Miss Pendragon," Nya said, handing me a small, metallic card. "This is your adventurer's ID. It has all your information, your rank, and your line of credit."
I took the black card. It was cool to the touch, had the Adventurer's Guild's logo on the back, and on the front, my name 'Azariel Pendragon' was engraved in elegant silver letters.
"Thank you," I said with a nod.
"Umm... Miss Pendragon," Nya said, her voice hesitant. "I... I wish you good luck. The Pendragon name... it still means something to some of us."
I looked at her, my silver eyes meeting her green ones. There was a genuine sincerity in her gaze, a flicker of something that went beyond mere professional courtesy.
"I appreciate that," I said, my voice softening slightly. "And thank you for your help."
With that, I turned and walked away, Ron trailing behind me like a lost puppy.
We left the guild, the sounds of the bustling hall fading behind us. The city's cacophony washed over us again, a symphony of light and sound.
Ron was silent, his head down, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
I could feel the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging behind his stoic facade.
"What's on your mind?" I asked, my tone casual.
"Nothing," he mumbled, not looking at me.
"Don't lie to me, Ron," I said, my voice a low, melodic hum. "I can feel it. The fear, the confusion, the... envy."
He flinched, his shoulders hunching even more.
"Envy? I... I don't envy you," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Don't you?" I asked, a small, knowing smile playing on my lips. "You don't envy the power? The respect? The way people look at me?"
"N-no," he stammered, shaking his head. "I... I just... I don't understand. How? How can you be so... so strong? So confident? How can you just walk into a place like that and command respect without even trying?"
"Strength, boy," I said, my tone turning serious. "Strength is everything in any world. Without it, you're nothing. Just a victim, waiting to be preyed upon."
I stopped and turned to face him, my silver eyes boring into his.
"You were a victim, Ron. Miko preyed on you. The world preyed on you. But that's over now. You summoned me. You made a deal. And now, you have a chance to become strong."
"I... I'm not strong," he said, his voice filled with self-doubt. "I'm weak. I've always been weak."
Smack!
I gently smacked his head. Not too hard, but enough to get him out of that slump.
"Then get strong," I said, my voice sharp. "Stop whining like a little bitch. No one is going to hand you strength. You have to take it. You have to fight for it. You have to bleed for it."
I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. His stormy-blue eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and something else. A flicker of defiance. A spark of the fire I needed to see.
The boy may appear delicate and feminine, but in his eyes, I could see a glimmer of a storm brewing.
He had a strong will, just from the tan lines on his hands and the calluses starting to form on his palms. It was a sign of his recent, grueling work. A sign that he wasn't completely broken.
"You have a choice, Ron," I said, my voice a low, seductive purr. "You can stay here, in this city, and wallow in your self-pity. You can be a victim for the rest of your short, miserable life."
"Or," I continued, my thumb gently stroking his cheek. "You can come with me. You can walk the path of power. You can become someone that no one would ever dare to mess with again. Someone who can protect the people he cares about."
I leaned closer, my lips brushing against his ear.
"You can become a monster," I whispered. "Just like me."
He shivered, a full-body tremor that had nothing to do with the cold.
"I... I want to be strong," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words were a confession, a surrender, and a vow all rolled into one.
I pulled back, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my lips.
"Good," I said. "Then let's go make you a monster."