"What in the world is this..."
After Rick left, several examiners stood in the exam venue with grim faces. They stared up at the massive hole in the ceiling.
"Oh? What are all of you doing gathered here?"
A young man appeared wearing luxurious silver-white armor.
"Oh, it's you, Sylvester-dono."
First-Class Knight Sylvester Elsernia. He had a gentle, handsome face full of confidence. His straight posture made his over-190-centimeter tall, perfectly proportioned body look even more imposing.
He was like the personification of strength, good looks, and refreshment.
His organization, the Royal Knights, was one of the kingdom's top combat forces alongside the Mage Church. They normally handled policing, security, and escorts in the capital and regions. In emergencies, they served as the ultimate military power.
The Royal Knights had five ranks: Fourth-Class to First-Class, and the highest Special-Class. Sylvester had risen to First-Class at just nineteen years old. He was an elite among elites. For this E-rank exam, the capital had dispatched him as security squad leader.
The examiner explained the situation to Sylvester.
"...And that is what happened."
"...Hmm. So an F-rank adventurer kicked the slime bag straight through the ceiling and the barrier with one strike."
Sylvester nodded slowly.
"Is this some popular guild joke?"
He said it with cold sweat on his brow.
"No, it is the truth."
"Come on, wait a minute. When did adventurer levels get this high?"
If someone capable of that was wandering around as the lowest rank, the Royal Knights would be completely obsolete. The kingdom might as well hire from the guild for cheaper and stronger talent.
Sylvester looked at the green liquid on the floor, the remnants of the slime bag.
"If you asked me to do the same... I could probably manage it. But not with an ordinary sword like this one. I would need a holy sword blessed for battlefield use, ten full seconds to charge my magic, and my ultimate sword strike. That would cut through the green slime bag, the barrier, and the wall together. But to do it with a casual kick... Did that examinee really have no blessed weapon? Maybe ritual processing on his boots or something?"
"Yes, sir. Just cheap leather boots you can buy anywhere..."
"Sigh. Even I... people call me a genius, and I thought I was strong, but this shakes my confidence."
"No, Sylvester-sama, you are plenty impressive. That level of strike could instantly kill a superior wyvern. But there seems to be one misunderstanding."
The examiner who had watched Rick's test spoke in a slightly apologetic tone.
"That slime bag was not made from the lowest green slime. It was a combination of blue slime and yellow slime materials."
"What!?"
Sylvester let out a voice far from his usual refreshing tone, full of accent and shock.
It was understandable. Until now, he had assumed the softest green slime bag.
"Are you using advanced monster materials like blue slime and yellow slime for an exam? How can examinees properly show their attacks with that?"
"Well, actually, we ran short on green slime bags. We brought one meant for tomorrow's A-rank promotion exam. Most examinees here barely made the bag sway. A few pushed it back about twenty degrees with magic, but none destroyed it."
"Of course not. Even I could not destroy a composite bag from superior slimes. Just knocking it around properly would earn an immediate promotion to Second-Class Knight in our ranks. Who exactly is this number 4242?"
Sylvester picked up Rick's registration form from the desk and scanned the profile.
"Twenty-six years old? Someone this strong at E-rank at that age. What kind of background does he—"
He shifted to the work history section.
- Ages 16 to 24: Guild "Tiger Road," Syncat Branch. Receptionist.
"...No way, no way, no way."
Sylvester rubbed his eyes.
He rubbed them thoroughly.
Then he looked at the work history again.
- Ages 16 to 24: Guild "Tiger Road," Syncat Branch. Receptionist.
"..."
No matter how many times he looked, it said receptionist. No legendary swordsman, no divinely blessed mage. Just the plain word "Receptionist" sat there.
"That profile is strange, right? No matter what angle or how many times you look, it feels like you're seeing a hallucination."
The examiner patted Sylvester on the shoulder and said that.