Chapter 24 : Very easy to handle.
The receptionist absolutely refused to let Via register.
This pink-haired girl was weak—if she became an adventurer and died on a quest, Holy Land clerics would storm in, blaming the branch.
Trouble—maybe even her job.
“Why?” Via asked, puzzled.
“Miss Via, you’re not suited,” the receptionist said. “Stay at Avalon, study. Adventuring’s too dangerous for you.”
“That’s the reason?”
Via saw it: avoiding hassle.
But registration → quests → fast cash.
She needed quick money.
“Yes—we’re thinking of you. Last quarter, adventurer casualty rates rose again. Not a good gig.” The receptionist scared her off.
“…Fine. Got it.” Via nodded.
“Good.”
Receptionist sighed—crisis averted—but Via’s parting shot froze her.
“Before coming to Dover’s guild, I read the registration handbook. As a Saint Ro citizen, I qualify. Yet your branch rejects me with invalid reasons.”
Via puffed cheeks—angry act.
“Back home, I’ll report through Holy Land higher-ups—this branch, especially you—poor service. Wait for it!”
“Huh?”
Receptionist stunned.
Via’s connections? Escalation = punishment. Bonuses gone, maybe fired.
No way—unemployment in this economy? Starve.
“Wait, Miss Via!!”
She vaulted the counter—heels be damned—raced out, grabbing Via.
“Don’t go!”
“What?”
“No rush—I was testing your resolve. Your determination surprised me!”
Receptionist beamed.
“Per guild rules—you can register!”
“Oh, a test? My bad.”
Via followed back in.
Receptionist’s mind: 10,000 alpacas stampeding.
Via name-dropped Holy Land—small fry like her couldn’t fight.
“Fill this form.”
“Got it.”
Via took the sheet, filled basics fast.
Family ties—she hesitated.
Mother? Skipped.
Father? Unknown—alive or not.
Only Sophie in sibling slot.
“Done.”
“Let me check.”
Receptionist scanned—surprised.
“Class: Mage?”
“Yep.”
“But… aren’t you a nun?”
“…”
Via speechless.
Salt in wound—zero holy power.
“Fine. Looks good.”
Receptionist thought: makes sense. Nun support? Weird.
“Wait—I’ll set up qualification test. Checks if you meet adventurer threshold—and rank.”
…
…
“You kidding? Sylvia’s useless daughter wants to register here?”
Dover guild tester stubbed his cigarette, hearing the receptionist.
Thought he misheard.
“No joke—she’s waiting.” Receptionist helpless.
“Brain fart? Send her off with any excuse.”
“Wanted to,” she whined. “But she cited rules, threatened Holy Land report—invalid rejection.”
“Tch. Annoying brat.”
Tester lit another smoke.
“What class she pick?”
“Mage.”
“Oh? Mage?”
He grinned.
“Perfect—easy.”
“Huh?” Receptionist blinked.
“She wants process? We give process!” Tester laughed.
“Meaning…?”
“She qualifies on paper—but passing threshold? Our call. Fail the test—no grounds to report!”
“Oh!”
Receptionist got it.
Adventurer bar: low—branches kept it low.
Cheap labor = more the better.
Injuries, deaths? No compensation—adventurer’s risk.
But strict tester, raise bar invisibly—block Via?
She was combat trash.
“Brilliant.”
…
…
“So slow…”
Via in the guild hall—dozing.
Other adventurers stared, whispering.
She ignored—same old gossip, bad rep.
“Miss Via—sorry for the wait.”
Receptionist approached, smiling.
“Please follow—for the qualification test.”