Chapter 16

  I'd already scouted the way out of the forest with Fei earlier—our first challenge was getting out of these damn trees to reach the actual road.

  Thankfully, we ran into hardly any monsters on our way out. And when we did? Well, Nox and Orion made quick work of them.

  Even Henrik looked impressed watching my wolves tear through a pack of razor-rabbits like they were made of paper.

  "Gods," he muttered, shaking his head. "Though I guess that's to be expected from D-rank monsters."

  I blinked. "D-rank?"

  Henrik caught my confused expression and chuckled. "Right…"

  Then He gestured toward Nox, who was casually shaking rabbit guts off his muzzle. "Monsters get ranked just like adventurers. F-rank are the weaklings—slimes, normal rats, that sort of thing. E-rank are your basic forest creatures. D-rank monsters like your wolves? They're the real deal. Strong enough to give seasoned adventurers a hard time."

  "And above that?" I asked, genuinely curious.

  "C-rank and up are where things get nasty," Henrik said with a grim smile. "B-rank monsters can level entire villages if they're not dealt with quickly. A-rank? Well, let's just say they're the kind of thing that makes kingdoms send armies."

  Damn…

  A single day's worth of wild power had created D-rank monsters. One day. And Fei? The golems? They'd cost me even more power around two, which probably meant they were even stronger, but not a huge margin I guess. But still...

  My mind raced back to the skill description. A mature dragon took fourteen days of wild power to create. If my wolves were D-rank from just one day's worth...

  That dragon would probably be A-rank. Maybe even S-rank if that existed. And I could create one in just two weeks—fifteen days if I skipped the loyalty upgrade.

  The sheer broken nature of my ability was starting to sink in. Most people probably spent years training to reach D-rank as adventurers. Meanwhile, I could pump out D-rank monsters like they were coming off an assembly line.

  Twenty days max to create something that could probably take on entire armies.

  "You alright there?" Henrik asked, noticing my stunned expression.

  "Yeah,"

  Just realizing how broken my skill is.

  As we made our way through the trees, I decided to pump Henrik for more information.

  "So these adventurer rankings," I said, stepping over a fallen log. "Is there some kind of organization that handles all that?"

  "The Adventurer's Guild," Henrik nodded. "They've got branches in most towns. Handle monster jobs, dungeon runs, that sort of thing."

  Of course there was an Adventurer's Guild. Because apparently this world was hitting every single isekai trope in the book.

  "How does someone become an adventurer?"

  "Register at a guild hall, take an aptitude test, start at F-rank," Henrik said, ducking under a low branch. "Most folk never make it past E-rank. Takes real skill and luck to climb higher."

  "And the Crown Guild you mentioned before?"

  Henrik's expression grew more serious. "Different beast entirely. They don't just handle registration—they control magic use throughout the kingdoms. Got authority to arrest rogue mages, confiscate magical items, that sort of thing."

  "Arrest?" My stomach dropped.

  "Aye. Magic's regulated heavy since the Mage Wars. Can't just go around casting spells without proper certification. Too dangerous."

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  “The Crown Guild has jurisdiction across all five kingdoms. See, after the Mage Wars ended, all five kings realized they needed something to prevent it from happening again. King Aldaron proposed the Crown Guild, but it was a unified agreement between all the kingdoms."

  "So they all agreed to let one organization control magic across their borders?"

  "Had to," Henrik said grimly. "The Mage Wars nearly tore the continent apart. Rogue mages burning cities, summoning demons, turning entire armies into undead. Nobody wanted to see that again."

  That made sense, I guess. If magic was that dangerous when uncontrolled, kingdoms would put aside their differences to prevent another catastrophe.

  "So the Crown Guild answers to all five kings?"

  "More like they answer to a council with representatives from each kingdom," Henrik explained. "Keeps any one king from using them as a personal army. Though there's always politics involved, of course."

  Of course there was.

  "What happens if they catch someone using magic without registration?"

  "Depends," Henrik said with a shrug. "Minor stuff? Fine and forced registration. Bigger violations? Prison time. Real serious offenses..." He made a cutting motion across his throat.

  Jesus Christ.

  "But don't worry too much," he added quickly."Small towns like Oakenford usually only have a single Crown Guild representative. And they're more focused on actual criminals than folks who just haven't registered yet."

  That was... slightly reassuring. Maybe.

  "Do all mages have to register?"

  "Supposed to," Henrik said with a slight grimace. "Though I imagine some slip through the cracks, especially in remote areas."

  Like me, I thought. The idea of registering with some royal organization made my stomach churn. What if they asked questions I couldn't answer? What if they could somehow tell I didn't belong in this world?

  "Don't worry about that now," Henrik said, noticing my expression. "You've got more immediate concerns."

  "Tell me more about these kingdoms," I said, changing the subject before I started overthinking. "You mentioned five of them yesterday?"

  "Right. Argus is where we are now—King Aldaron's been ruling for decades now or so. Good king. Fair taxes, doesn't start wars for no reason."

  Henrik stepped around a fallen tree trunk, continuing his explanation. "Drakmoor to the east is... well, they're the ones whose knights burned Millbrook. King Malachar's been itching for a fight with someone for years. Always looking to expand his territory."

  "Wait," I said, stopping in my tracks. "How do you know those knights were from Drakmoor?"

  Henrik paused, his hand tightening on his walking stick. For a moment, something flickered across his face.

  "The armor. Black steel with red trim. That's Drakmoor's colors." He shrugged. “You pick up these things when you've been around."

  "Around what?" I pressed.

  "I was an adventurer back in my younger days, see. D-rank, nothing special. But when the Mage Wars started up about forty years back, the kingdom conscripted every able-bodied man they could find. Adventurers, farmers, craftsmen—didn't matter what you did before."

  He paused, rubbing his bad knee. "Spent three years fighting Drakmoor's forces along the eastern border. Got to know their armor, their tactics, the way their knights move in formation. Hard to forget that kind of thing."

  That explained a lot.

  "Is that how you hurt your leg?" I asked, gesturing at his limp.

  Henrik gave a bitter laugh. "Nah, that happened after the war. Went back to adventuring for a while, thought I could handle anything after fighting real soldiers. Got cocky during a goblin extermination job."

  He shook his head ruefully. "A particularly nasty little bastard got lucky with a rusty blade. Knee never healed right after that."

  “Ah.”

  "Any idea why they would attack a random farming town?" I asked, changing the topic.

  Henrik's face darkened. "Could be any number of reasons. Testing Argus's defenses. Looking for an excuse to claim disputed territory. Or maybe they just wanted to send a message."

  The way he said it made me think there was more to the story, but I didn't push.

  "What about the other kingdoms?"

  "Valenhall to the south's got Queen Isadora. She's... complicated. Brilliant military commander, but ruthless as they come. Nordmark's ruled by King Bjorn—decent enough fellow, though his people are tough as nails. And Soltara way down south has Queen Celeste. Never dealt with them much, but they're known for their trade networks."

  "And Drakmoor? Besides the burning and pillaging, I mean."

  Henrik shook his head grimly. "Can't say much about what's happening inside their borders these days. King Malachar keeps things locked down tight—doesn't let much news out. What little we hear comes from traders and refugees, and it's never good."

  “I see..”

  “And this Eastern Empire you mentioned?"

  Henrik spat into the dirt. "Bad news, that lot. Been pushing west for the past five years, conquering everything in their path. All five kingdoms signed a mutual defense pact to deal with them, but..." He shrugged. "Empire's got numbers we can't match."

  "How bad are we talking?"

  "Empire's got maybe three times the population of all five kingdoms combined," Henrik said grimly. "Plus they've got some kind of unified command structure. Meanwhile, our five kings can barely agree on what to have for breakfast, let alone coordinate a proper defense."

  That painted a pretty grim picture. I was walking into a world on the brink of being conquered by some massive empire.