Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 5 part 4: Welcome to Vest Schëld

POV: Kuraray Bokor, secunda hora vesperi, Vest Schëld, Mellanphalia Kingdom

After sending those troublemakers off, I secretly heaved a tired sigh before returning my attention to the towering black-clad foreigner. He seemed to have already resolved his troubles, as the registration form was filled out thoroughly. As I took the paperwork and studied it in detail, it gradually dawned on me that this Mister [Nguyen] was the subject of today’s rumors amongst the adventurers. Something started to stir inside my heart the longer I spent reading the man’s application and associated missive from the [Knight Order], and in no time, I found myself inadvertently smirking.

“By the way, may I head to the library while waiting for my application to be processed?”

With a somewhat bored look in his eyes, the outlander gestured toward the seldom-used library, snapping me away from my darkening stream of thought. Almost dropping the pile of parchments, I flusteredly recomposed myself before nearly wordlessly nodding at the foreigner’s request, only to realize that I had already sealed the mark onto his files.

“Mister [Nguyen], I have already finished processing your paperwork. All you need to do now is to head over to the training ground and pass the required test before we can register you as an adventurer.”

“By the way,” he gestured toward a ladened sack laid next to his feet, “I want to have these processed as well too. Should I do it now or…”

Judging by the very faint smell of blood, it seemed that the bag was full of battle trophies that he had accumulated recently.

“Hey, miss [Ameila],” I bellowed the receptionist girl working at the raw material collection counter, “process this man’s trophies, quick!”

After giving the flustered receptionist girl the sack, the man gave an assenting nod, signifying his readiness to take the test. Inwardly heaving a relieved sigh, I quickly got out of the counter and led the man toward the training ground. The younger sister of the [von Wagner] family, who was rarely seen entering the premise of this building, stood up from her seat upon seeing the foreigner heading outside, immediately apologized to the lounging adventurers and staff before prancing toward the man, drawing an intense wave of emotions from the still regretting audience.

By the time we reached the training ground, crowds of curious onlookers practically swarmed one end of the field, buzzing noisily with speculations and such about the black-clad foreigner. Some doubted his martial prowess, thinking that they were tall tales from the veterans, and others gossiped about his relationship with the young lady, only to earn a scornful look from their significant other. We could only exchange a wry shrug with each other after witnessing such antics. As I cleared my throat, the mass quickly turned silent, waiting for my announcement. At times like this, I secretly thanked the power of my position for such convenience.

“Mister [Nguyen], after reading your form and the associated reports about your exploits,” I addressed the Eastern-looking man, “as the Guild master of this branch, I’ll personally oversee and administer the proficiency test for prospective adventurers. So, to start, we will assess your marksmanship capability. But first, please shed any means that improve your capability, which in this case it means your armor and the contraptions attached to your weapon.”

“Fair enough,” the man nonchalantly nodded before adding another statement while pointing toward the thick metallic tube on the muzzle end of his weapon, “except for the silencer. I don’t want to rob everyone’s ability to listen to the next morning’s roosters’ crowing either.”

Except for the [von Wagner] lady and members of the all-female [Blooming Lilium], who nodded bitterly, everyone was taken aback by his statement. Discontent gossip soon rippled through the ranks, with some sneering at the man’s suggestion. The foreigner resignedly shrugged before putting his sand-colored weapon and bizarre-looking helmet on the nearby table. Then he put down his enormous black sack, and after rummaging through its content, pulled out a pair of black earmuffs and gently had the blonde lady wear it, eliciting another round of intense emotions as jealous ladies started to chew their man out on perceived lack of gallantry.

Then the man pulled out a small black case with rounded corners, opened it, and inserted a pair of bean-sized gadgets into his ears. Seemingly anticipating my question, the man justified his action as he put on dark-shaded glasses.

“These things in my ears? They’re the same as those noise-canceling earmuffs,” he gestured toward the pair of headband-like earmuffs that the off-duty knight was wearing as he was busy removing the devices on his weapon by deftly utilizing a sleek-looking tournevis, “I have some hearing problems after extended exposure to high-intensity acoustic sources despite not neglecting any safety measures. And I’m ain’t in any hurry to lose my remaining hearing either, so sorry in advance for only having enough for the two of us. And this pair of goggles is to keep my eyes safe in case my rifle won’t play nice with me, as in suddenly the ammunition decides to detonate and blast the damn rifle into my face, so please excuse me.”

While I was half-convinced at the man’s explanation despite my reservations, unfortunately, the crowd was an entirely different matter. Mockeries, scorns, and ridicule soon rippled through the ranks, drawing the ire of the blonde knight, yet the man calmly stopped her with a knowing wink, causing her to glare at the mob before dissatisfiedly giving up on arguing with them. Somehow seeing their interaction up close like this stirred up unpleasant thoughts in my mind, forcing me to forcibly shake them off.

“Deactivating [High Mobility Combat Suit],” a flat, inhuman voice with barely any intonation emanated from the man, which was followed by a series of snapping clicks sprung from the body armor, startling the collective audience.

While the mob was still in an uproar over the sequence of events that had just transpired, the man then unfastened the straps at various joints, then carefully took off pieces of armor with relative ease, which again, except for the blonde-haired female knight, shocked all of us at how light they were to the point that skeptical murmurs started to spread. What emerged from the intimidating suit of black armor was an imposing Eastern-looking man dressed in long-sleeved near-black clothing.

The foreigner heaved an exasperated sigh before rolling up his sleeves slightly and readying his sand-colored weapon, aiming for the target stand. Then he turned his head slightly to throw a query at me.

“So, mister guild master, the goal is to accurately hit the bullseye over there, right?”

“The last name is [Markovic], and yes, you have to hit the center point five times.”

As I gave him a nod to go after giving my name, the man sincerely threw back his advice for the last time while assuming a slightly hunched-forward stance.

“Copy that. Cover your ears, folks, I’ve already apologized beforehand so I’m not liable for any hearing trauma you guys gonna suffer today.”

A somewhat muffled, ear-piercing crack erupted, causing everyone present to wince in pain. Even with some preparations beforehand, my sensitive ears of a [Droich] still caught the full impact of the instrument of war, thus, I could only helplessly double down, hands covering my ears. And just as I was barely able to recover from the shock, the slightly hunched-forward outlander squeezed out yet another 4 such ear-deafening noises in quick succession, lavishing the crowd with another dose of earache.

The black-haired man turned toward me, not forgetting to turn the muzzle of that cursed instrument of war away from the crowd before expressing his thoughts with an apologetic shrug.

“It seems that I’ve passed the test, right, mister proctor?”

Helpfully extending his arm toward me, the man pulled me up from my disgraceful, almost fetal-like curling position. As I was still rubbing my ears to alleviate the pain, I slowly wobbled my way toward the practicing target with the help of a guild staff. The round-shaped target practice seemed largely intact, and just as I was doubting the man’s weapon proficiency, the area around the bullseye caught my attention. A barely noticeable hole was perforated through the dead center of the target. As I inspected it further, the piece of the wall directly behind was slightly damaged, which greatly astonished me to the point that I involuntarily let out a scream.

The somewhat subdued crowd was startled by my inopportune yelp, forcing me to quell their whispers before beckoning Mister [Nguyen] to come over.

“Mind telling me what’s happening here, mister?”

After briefly glancing at the consequences of his making without even flinching at the leak of irritation in my questioning, with a mildly surprised expression on his weathered face, the man truthfully expressed his observations.

“My bad, mister guild master, I wasn’t expecting that the frangible rounds would penetrate the material like that. Speaking of which… It seems that the city guards are hurrying here. Good luck with them, I guess?”

Seeing the commotion developing in the crowd as the guards pushed their way through, I inwardly cursed the foreigner as I headed out to explain to the confused sentries about the test.