One of the important things for adventurers is having days off.
Naturally, they don't go out to fight monsters every single day.
Likewise, no adventurer takes on menial requests every day either.
Resting your body is important, but you also need to maintain your equipment regularly.
If you have expensive equipment, the upkeep costs are considerable. But maintenance takes time too.
It would be a problem if your gear let you down when you needed it most.
That was why Lyle had been instructed by Zelphy to take days off in moderation. Zelphy's teaching philosophy was to stop them if they pushed too hard.
If they weren't doing what was necessary, she would point it out. And she would explain necessary things in advance.
It was all perfectly reasonable, but I'd heard that some instructors had adventurers hone their skills through real combat instead.
I was glad those people weren't my instructors, but on my days off I had taken to visiting the guild's archive room to read.
This time, however, I wasn't alone.
"...What?"
I was sitting across the single desk in the narrow archive room, facing Aria.
She, too, had been keeping her distance from me ever since that incident.
But today here we were, facing each other in the archive room. I thought she could have just come later or something, but since we were on the same schedule, the times that were convenient for me and convenient for her inevitably overlapped.
"It's nothing. More importantly, are you actually reading?" Aria pointed at the stack of books beside me. She had a book open that Zelphy had told her to read as well.
It was mainly about party roles.
I, on the other hand, had nothing particular to look up, so I just kept grabbing random books and reading them.
"I am. I like reading."
I enjoyed losing myself in stories.
After all, it meant I didn't have to think about anything else. Since I was ten, reading had been my escape from reality.
"Speaking of which, why are you reading books about agriculture? I wouldn't expect to find those in a guild."
At Aria's question, it wasn't me but the Second Generation who answered.
Unlike with Novem, though, he was rather blunt about it.
*'Depending on the situation, you might go to a nearby village to help with farm work. Darion's gotten too big for those kinds of requests to come in anymore. Seriously, you didn't even know that?'*
The city had grown too large, so farming requests no longer reached the guild. But the books were still kept in the archive room.
I softened the Second Generation's words and relayed them to Aria.
"They must have been necessary in the past. The Darion guild probably used to receive those kinds of requests, right?"
In fact, the agricultural books I was holding were a bit old. But the Second Generation, and the Third Generation who loved books, seemed to find them interesting through my eyes.
The cheerful Third Generation, looking at the book, asked me to turn the page.
*'Seeing how far technology has come really makes me envious. If we'd had methods like these, our era could have been a little better too. Technology really is important... Lyle, turn the page for me, would you?'*
Reading was probably just a hobby for me.
But my ancestors were different.
They seemed eager to see how different the modern era was from their own, and fascinated by new technology.
Except for the First Generation, they all had a voracious appetite for technology.
That made sense, given they'd all been lords.
"...Are you planning to get into farming next?" Aria asked me, glancing back at her own book. This was the first time she'd initiated a conversation with me since she'd recovered enough to move around.
"No, I was just curious." In truth, I had been reading about how to use magic in agriculture.
Technology for using magic to enrich daily life was constantly being refined, you could say. But there were unspoken rules.
The absolute rule was: never complete an entire job using only magic.
It was a rule that seemed pointless, but I had assumed it was about conserving mana.
For mages—especially those who relied solely on magic as a weapon—running out of mana was a life-or-death matter.
This kind of specialized magic was, naturally, most often used by those skilled in it.
I thought that was what the rule was for, but apparently there was another reason too.
(*There are things you can't learn from books alone.*) Having actually gone out and lived in the real world, I felt that keenly. But I didn't think reading was a waste, either.
Aria, on the other hand, seemed to dislike reading.
She was looking at her book with a troubled expression.
It wasn't that she couldn't read—it just wasn't her thing.
Her clothes told the same story. For a noble lady, she was a rather lively girl.
"Do you hate reading?"
"I don't hate it. I'm just not good at it. I used to be made to read a lot, but until recently I never had the time."
Father and daughter—and the father apparently spent his days drinking without working.
Aria must have had it rough in that kind of household.
She still didn't talk about her past directly, but conversations like these let me imagine it.
The First Generation sympathized with her. In truth, the First Generation was pretty much the only one who felt sympathy for Aria.
*'You've had it tough, Aria.'*
The Second Generation responded coldly.
*'I can sympathize with being burdened by one's father. Or rather, empathize.'*
The relationship between the First and Second Generations really did seem cold.
I hadn't asked what had happened between them, because asking would trigger the Second Generation's emotions and burn through a massive amount of mana. So I left it alone.
After that, a silence fell for a while.
When the conversation had been quiet for some time, I finished my book and placed it on the stack.
I'd finished all the books I'd brought.
Looking at the height of the sun, it seemed like a good time to head home.
"I'm heading back. What about you, Aria?"
I stood up to put the books back in their proper places.
Aria apparently hadn't finished yet. She glanced at me and shook her head.
"I'm not done yet, so go ahead without me. Tell Novem I'll be... late."
I received the message, put the books away, and left the archive room.
The guild was busy as usual, even on a day like this. There were plenty of adventurers still working while we rested. Leaving the archive room, I passed through the second floor where the reception desk was, and as always, adventurers were lined up.
As usual, only Hawkins's line was short.
(*He's meticulous with his work and a kind person, too.*)
Brown skin, red hair buzzed short. On top of that, you could tell right away that beneath his shirt was a suit of muscle armor.
He was big, too—strong enough that your average adventurer wasn't even worth comparing.
In fact, many veteran adventurers called Hawkins "Boss" and looked up to him. Or perhaps more accurately, they knew better than to cross him.
With that kind of presence, newcomers would be too intimidated to approach him.
Despite always greeting people with a smile and handling things politely, newcomers kept their distance.
Meanwhile, the reception counter where the beautiful clerk worked had a massive line.
Most of the adventurers in that line were young men.
They were probably drawn by the beautiful clerk's looks, but that too seemed to serve as a balm for adventurers living dangerous lives.
The Second Generation let out a weary sigh.
*'Why do they waste their time like that? One look at her personality and you'd know she probably already has a boyfriend.'*
I wasn't well-versed in romantic matters myself, but a beauty like that probably did have a boyfriend.
She looked like she was in her late teens, maybe?
Given the age of marriage among nobles, she'd be old enough to be married already.
(*Wait, no. The marriage age for commoners is different.*)
I remembered that the marriage age among nobles was early, but for common women it was much later.
I'd also read that healing magic had improved and human lifespans had grown longer. Because of that, the suitable age for marriage had increased too.
So—
*'By the way, is it considered late for her not to be married at that age? She's got to have some serious issues.'*
The Second Generation's harsh assessment was met by the Seventh Generation.
*'Isn't that age normal nowadays? Things have changed from the old days.'*
The relatively recent Seventh Generation said that being unmarried at her age was no problem.
After all, there was over a hundred years between the Seventh Generation's era and the Second Generation's.
Their values must differ considerably.
Growing bored of staring blankly at the line, I headed for the stairs to go down from the second floor.
That was when a trio of adventurers came up the stairs.
It was a party of young men and women. The two men carried a sword and a spear—they were the front line.
And there was a mage in a robe carrying a staff. A well-balanced party.
For a group of three, at least.
The three of them were walking up abreast, so I stepped aside.
"Oh, sorry about that. We were chatting and didn't notice you."
The swordsman with a blade at his hip looked a bit older than me.
I could tell from the handle that his weapon was well-used, and his posture—both standing and walking—had an air of confidence about it.
The tall spearman similarly looked like he had real strength.
"Watch yourself, would you? If you're too busy flirting, you'll bump into someone and cause trouble. My apologies... wait?"
The spearman looked at my face and furrowed his brow.
Then the female mage exclaimed.
"You're Lyle, aren't you! Blue hair and blue eyes—I'm certain of it. You're 'Lyle the Blockhead'!"
Hearing that, my expression soured.
I heard laughter from the Jewel.
It was the First Generation.
*'Gahahaha, looks like it worked out, doesn't it! You should be happy about it, Lyle!'*
I thought *you don't even know what I'm feeling* but nodded anyway.
The swordsman quickly covered the mage's mouth and apologized.
"What are you saying, you! I-I'm sorry. She's not a bad person, just loose-lipped or something... Sorry about that."
I told the swordsman I wasn't bothered and accepted his apology.
"You need to think before you open your mouth."
Beside him, the spearman looked exasperated with the mage.
"S-sorry... forgive me."
They seemed to be an adventurer party a couple of years older than me.
They had some experience under their belts, and it showed—they had more presence than the younger adventurers around.
"I'm Rondo. The one with the staff is Rachel, and the spear is Ralf. Nice to meet you."
Since he'd introduced himself, I gave my name too.
"I'm Lyle. Nice to meet you."
Upon hearing that, Ralf put his hand to his chin and looked me over—from my toes to the top of my head—and grinned.
"You don't look anything like what the rumors say. You seem like you can hold your own."
Rondo nodded with his arms crossed.
"Indeed. So the rumors were false, then? Oh well, we were on a job too. Sorry, but we've got to get going. Hope we can chat more sometime."
The three headed toward the reception counter, and Rachel gave a little wave.
"See you!"
They didn't seem like bad people. Adventurers often had a rough reputation, but earnest ones like these certainly existed.
The Third Generation had been listening to the exchange and offered his assessment.
*'It's good they don't swallow rumors whole. Well, it means there are people who'll judge Lyle with their own eyes. That's a good thing, Lyle.'*
(*I mean, I did end up being called "Lyle the Blockhead" because I did what you told me... oh well.*)
There were still adventurers who shot me mocking glances from time to time, but there were also people like Hawkins and Rondo.
Thinking about that made me feel a little better.
"I'm home."
Novem came out from the kitchen to welcome me back.
"Welcome home, Lyle. Oh, did you and Aria come back separately?"
Novem was wearing an apron—she must have been preparing lunch.
I passed along Aria's message that she'd be late, and the smell from the kitchen made my stomach grow.
"She said she'd be late since she still had things to do. That reminds me, that smells really good."
When I looked toward the kitchen, Novem giggled and said, "Lunch will be ready soon," before heading back.
Wondering what we were having today, I received a stern reprimand from the Fourth Generation.
*"...Lyle."*
Novem was nearby, so I replied in a low voice.
"Yes?"
*'That was completely unacceptable. I was going to stay quiet, but I can't let it slide. Why did you leave Aria behind? And what about thanking Novem for making lunch? Try to be a little more considerate! It's agonizing to watch!'*
Recently, I had come to realize this man must have caused his wife a lot of grief.
He probably had to go to extremes just to avoid even worse consequences.
"I hear you, but what does the Fifth Generation think?"
When I asked the Fifth Generation, I got a dismissive snort.
*'Don't worry about it. The Fourth Generation is a little sick in the head. He doted on Mom too much and treated her like a princess... which caused me plenty of trouble too.'*
Each generation seemed to have its own issues.
I went to wash my hands, and on the way Novem called out to me.
"Lyle, did you make up with Aria?"
Novem's question was about my relationship with Aria. At the same time, I realized why Aria had come to the archive room with me today.
"No. But we talked a little. Sorry for making you worry about us, Novem."
Hearing that, Novem gave a wry smile.
"You figured it out?"
"When you suddenly started talking to me today, it was pretty obvious. I figured something was up."
Novem took off her apron, folded it neatly, and placed it on a piece of furniture nearby.
"I'm sure Aria has had a hard time too, so please try to look out for her a little."
I averted my gaze from Novem, nodded, and hurried off to wash my hands.
At the guild reception desk, Hawkins stretched his back as the day's work came to an end.
"Another day finished safely."
The middle-aged female clerk working beside him patted his shoulder and replied.
"Tell me about it. All the busy ones keep piling up on your side. But your line's been getting longer lately too."
"I wouldn't mind a few more people queuing up, but it's not exactly easy to arrange."
The middle-aged clerk praised Hawkins, then stood up and began getting ready to leave.
The beautiful clerk who had been at the far end was already gone, having left early.
Hawkins wondered which adventurer was treating her to dinner today as he tidied up the documents and tools in front of him.
Once the work was done, cleaning his own desk—the counter—was Hawkins's rule.
A new clerk who replaced the beautiful one discovered documents that hadn't been processed during the handover and looked troubled.
Hawkins spoke up.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, Hawkins... Actually, some documents came up that weren't covered during the handover, and I'm not sure what to do."
"Again?"
The beautiful reception clerk—she was the face of the counter, good-looking with a great figure—yet the real problem lay in her work performance.
For adventurers who came specifically because of her, small mistakes were actually welcome since it meant they could chat with her longer.
But for the other staff, she was a headache.
Even putting her behind the scenes, her mistakes were frequent, which caused problems too.
Most of all, the beautiful clerk's father was a guild executive.
Hawkins had been told by his superior to look after the daughter, so he helped out however he could when issues arose.
But that environment hadn't been good for her.
"I've told her to handle handovers properly."
"Hawkins, it's not your fault. The other staff members are humoring her, telling her 'it's fine' and comforting her. She seems to think that's good enough too."
Recently, Hawkins had been reluctant to give detailed work instructions, so he'd stopped talking to her as much.
The middle-aged female clerk either disliked the beautiful clerk from the start or simply had no interest in looking after her.
"The ones who suffer are the adventurers... So, what kind of documents are they?"
Hawkins took the documents and his expression turned severe.
"I'm sorry—since I'm only filling in temporarily, I don't really understand what these are for."
Normally, a back-office clerk would be handling things at the reception counter.
She could handle most of the work, but there was plenty she didn't know. When that happened, Hawkins and the others were supposed to cover for her.
Hawkins thought he could handle these documents himself, but something nagged at him.
"...Where were these found?"
"They were in the drawer."
Opening it, he found documents crammed haphazardly into binders.
(*Like they were just forced in... I told her to handle documents carefully.*)
Sighing inwardly, Hawkins decided to check whether there were other problematic documents.
"I'll go through all of these. Also, could you check whether any of the executives are still here?"
"Y-yes!"
The clerk, noticing Hawkins's changed demeanor, ran off.
Hawkins sat down, took the document-related materials from the drawer, and began sorting through them.
"...Come to think of it, I haven't received their return report."
He recalled the male instructor who had spoken with Zelphy.
He hadn't been the one to process the paperwork, so he didn't know the exact timeframe. But it felt like they should have been back by now.
It wasn't as if he worked the counter every day.
When he didn't, the clerk who took over handled things.
A bad feeling crept over him as he sorted through the documents—
"...A bad feeling—it's often accurate."
There it was: a document past its scheduled date.
It meant the person in question hadn't returned, or couldn't return. Immediately, Hawkins went to the back to look for the other copy of the guild cards stored at the guild.
He needed to find the guild cards for the five young adventurers the instructor had taken, plus the instructor himself—six in total.
The guild cards kept for emergency verification were normally stored out of sight.
But just as Hawkins suspected—
He picked up the six guild cards and checked the names.
"That confirms it." His expression grim, Hawkins held up a guild card with a line scored across the name—