The walk back from the Murkwood felt like emerging from a nightmare into a clear, cold dawn. The oppressive, cloying atmosphere was gone, replaced by the simple, damp chill of a normal forest. Kaito moved with a quiet purpose, the memory of the cleansing a steady, hum in his core. He had not just completed a quest; he had restored a balance.
His return to Whitepeak was as efficient as his departure. He went straight to the keep, bypassing the evening crowds. Lord Valerius received him with the same weary pragmatism as before.
"The Murkwood is stable," Kaito reported, his voice flat. "The source of the corruption was a crystallized mana node. It has been neutralized. The wildlife is returning to its natural state."
Valerius listened, his expression unreadable. He made a note in his ledger. "A crystallized mana node. In the Murkwood." He stated it as a fact, but his eyes held a glint of sharp calculation. Such phenomena were the stuff of ancient legends, not recent guild reports. "Your efficiency is... notable. You have the thanks of the Barony." It was a dismissal, but one that carried a new weight of acknowledgment. The tool had performed beyond all expectation.
Only then did Kaito go to the guild. The hall was bustling with the evening crowd. When he approached the quest board to formally complete the mission, he didn't need to take the parchment down. Anya was there, and her face broke into a warm, impressed smile the moment she saw him.
"Kaito! The runners from the western lumber camps just arrived," she said, her voice carrying a note of excitement. "They're reporting the air in the Murkwood is clear for the first time in weeks! The animals have calmed. Whatever you did, it worked a miracle." She didn't wait for him to speak, simply took his guild badge. "A sanctioned C-rank quest, completed with measurable, regional impact. That's not just a completion; that's a merit."
She walked behind the counter, and with a definitive thud, stamped his badge. When she handed it back, the single bronze star was gone. In its place were two polished silver stars.
"Congratulations," Anya said, her smile genuine. "You are now a B-rank adventurer."
The promotion happened so quickly, so matter-of-factly, that it left no room for argument or ceremony. A few adventurers nearby who overheard stared, their conversations halting. A jump from F to B-rank in less than a week was unheard of. Whispers began to circulate, a mix of awe, envy, and suspicion.
He collected his reward—another heavy purse of gold—and turned to find a quiet corner. But his path was blocked. Seraphina stood there, her arms crossed, her gaze analytical. She had witnessed the entire exchange.
"B-rank," she stated, her voice low. "Through pacification and environmental restoration. A unique path." Her eyes flickered to the silver stars on his tunic, then back to his face. "Lord Valerius keeps your time, and the guild rewards you with rank. You are being groomed, Kaito. The question is, for what purpose? And by whom?"
She didn't wait for an answer, turning away and disappearing into the crowd, leaving him with the chilling weight of her words. He was climbing the ladder at a breakneck pace, but with every rung, the view became more dangerous. He was no longer an anonymous novice. He was a B-rank adventurer, a known asset to the city's ruler, and a person of intense interest to its most brilliant mage. The walls were closing in, and the mask of a simple traveler was becoming harder to maintain.
------
The Weight of Silver Stars
The two silver stars on his badge felt colder and heavier than the gold in his pouch. They were not a reward; they were a brand. The muted whispers and sidelong glances in the guild hall were a tangible pressure, a current of scrutiny he could no longer avoid. He was no longer a curious novelty; he was a phenomenon, and phenomena were dissected.
He needed space. He retreated to the same quiet tavern he'd visited before, ordering a meal he didn't taste. The craftsmen were there again, their conversation a comforting drone of mundane worries. But their world felt farther away than ever. He was now separated from them by a chasm of rank and notoriety. He could still observe, but he could no longer blend in.
[Social integration protocol compromised. Elevated profile increases risk of exposure.]
[I know,] he thought back, the mental reply weary. The simple goal of becoming an A-rank adventurer now seemed like a countdown to a confrontation he wasn't ready for.
His meal was interrupted by a presence sliding into the seat opposite him. It was Roland. The spearman's usual boisterous grin was tempered into something more thoughtful, almost wary.
"Two silver stars," Roland said, not as a greeting, but a statement. He gestured with his chin towards Kaito's badge. "I've seen men fight for a decade and not make B-rank. You did it in a week. By 'pacifying' a forest." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Look, kid. I don't know what your game is, and I don't much care. But that kind of rise? It doesn't go unnoticed by the wrong people. There are folks in this city—and in the guild—who don't like puzzles they can't solve."
It wasn't a threat. It was a warning, offered from one warrior to another, a recognition that Kaito had just moved from the periphery into the dangerous center of the board.
"I'm just doing my job," Kaito said, the words feeling hollow even to him.
"Sure you are," Roland replied, a hint of his old grin returning. "Just be careful the job doesn't start doing you." He stood up, clapping Kaito on the shoulder with a fraction of his usual force. "And for the gods' sakes, be careful around Seraphina. She looks at you like you're a new spell she's about to take apart to see how it ticks."
After Roland left, the silence felt heavier. Kaito finished his meal and returned to his room at the Oakwood Lodge. For the first time, the four walls felt less like a sanctuary and more like a cage. He was a B-rank adventurer, a weapon in the Castellan's arsenal, a specimen under Seraphina's microscope, and a potential threat in the eyes of the guild's old guard.
He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The path forward was no longer a straight line to A-rank. It was a minefield. Every quest he took from now on would be under a microscope. Every success would breed more suspicion. He had wanted a purpose, and now he was drowning in it. The boundless power within him was useless against the simple, human complexities of envy, fear, and political intrigue. He had healed a forest, but in doing so, he had made his own world infinitely more dangerous.