This kind of thing wasn’t new to him. Some of the jobs he’d taken in the past… had circled around words like that, too. The upper class loved drawing a line between the main family and the branch family—an invisible line, but a very real one. Some households enforced it strictly. Some pretended they didn’t care.
But in the end, there were always people who clung to it.
Or worse—people raised so deeply inside it that they couldn’t tell anymore what was tradition… and what was a chain.
Earp didn’t comment. He simply let it remain the problem of people with names, titles, and inherited customs.
“Whatever that family nonsense is, let’s just leave it.”
Romeo spoke up, cutting the topic cleanly—almost too easily—as he walked over with Ace and Valda.
Ace came along wearing the face of someone who couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else. Today had already dumped more than enough heavy information onto his shoulders. Valda, meanwhile, scanned the guild hall like she always did—though her attention lingered for a moment on Finn’s party.
Finn looked up the instant he saw Romeo. His attitude snapped into order, as if he’d switched on a ceremonial mode.
“It’s been a long time, Sir Romeo… You’re as strong and dignified as ever.”
Finn greeted him and dipped his head slightly in a respectful bow.
Romeo made a face like he’d gotten dust in his eye—not because he was moved, but because he was irritated by the sheer amount of formality.
“You don’t have to do that, Finn.”
Romeo sighed.
“Back when we were kids, we grew up together. Played together. We never needed this much ceremony.”
He paused, and his tone softened a little.
“And Aunt Elizabeth she’s an elder I truly respect. How is she these days? Is she still doing well?”
The moment the name Elizabeth left Romeo’s mouth, Finn’s expression twitched for the briefest instant—like he’d snagged on a word he didn’t want to hear.
He smoothed it over fast. Fast enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed.
But Earp saw it.
Saw it clearly—
and kept it to himself, as he always did.
Finn returned a perfectly measured smile and replied in an even, steady tone.
“My mother is doing well, thank you.”
He continued,
“Today You must have returned from an important mission important enough that the guildmaster had to invite you for a private discussion. Righ sir ?”
It sounded like praise.
But the tail end of it carried a faint, hidden sting.
“S-Rank really is something, isn’t it?”
Ace narrowed his eyes, like he was about to say something.
But Romeo answered first—smoothly, before anyone could toss a spark into dry grass.
“It’s not that amazing,”
Romeo said.
“We struggle too, you know.”
Then he shifted the topic with the effortless skill of someone who’d been steering conversations for years.
“Anyway what wind blew you into the capital?”
Finn lifted a hand slightly, as if politely rejecting the premise of the question.
“No wind at all,”
he replied.
“I’ve just been wandering with my party, taking quests without being picky hard or easy, we do them.”
He smiled again—friendly at first glance…
yet strangely rigid around the edges.
“In the end, I happened to end up here, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“Since we’ve run into each other again,”
Romeo said, his voice calm but carrying the comfortable familiarity of old history,
“why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I have a house here in the capital.”
He gestured lightly.
“Bring your whole party. Rest, talk, hang out have a drink together.”
Finn hadn’t even had the chance to answer—
when a voice cut in, loud and immediate, like it had heard a forbidden keyword and triggered automatically.
“Hey, hey, hey! Who’s having drinks?!”
Sight appeared far too fast for someone who’d been sitting nowhere near the table.
A moment ago, he’d been a good distance away.
But the second he heard the word drink…
it was like some mysterious gravitational force yanked him straight over.
Lily, who’d been sitting there the whole time, snapped her head around almost instantly.
“Why have you never invited us, then?! That’s blatant double standards, you know!”
Ace, of course, didn’t miss the chance to throw more fuel on the fire.
“Yeah! Seriously. Us? We barely ever get to go.”
Romeo glanced at the three of them with the look of someone who was used to the world…
used to people…
and very used to loud complaints.
“Because you’re filthy.”
He said it flatly—like he was commenting on the weather.
“Instead of staying clean, you walk into my house and suddenly my whole place is covered in dust.”
Then he paused for just a beat—
as if making sure it stung the exact right amount.
“Other than Valda, I don’t let anyone in. Not just you.”
Ace, Sight, and Lily all pulled the exact same sulky face in perfect sync—like they’d rehearsed it.
“Let’s save it for next time, then.”
Finn replied politely, his tone steady as ever.
“We’ve already accepted a mission, and we’re planning to clear it as quickly as possible. We won’t be in the capital for long, either so I’ll have to take my leave.”
Romeo didn’t insist, but he didn’t let it end coldly either. He gave a faint smile, speaking as if leaving something behind in his words.
“Then take care of yourself. Next time we meet…”
He let the pause hang.
“You’re not allowed to refuse.”
Finn dipped his head slightly again.
“Of course. You as well, Sir.”
Then he led his party out in neat formation—disciplined and coordinated, as if time was too valuable to waste on unnecessary words.
Gustav, walking at the rear, turned back toward Lily just before stepping out of the hall.
“Until we meet again, Ms. Ursula.”
Lily made a face like someone had forced a snack she hated into her mouth, then answered with absolutely zero courtesy.
“Go wherever you want… just don’t die on the way, okay?”
Gustav let out a soft heh-heh laugh—the laugh of someone who actually enjoyed being verbally jabbed.
“Oh my, my, my… Ms. Ursula, honestly.”
“Let’s go, Gustav. We have work to do.”
Finn cut in to hurry him along. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to end the joke on the spot.
“Yes, sir.”
Gustav replied, then quickly followed without adding another word.
After Finn’s party had walked only a few steps out, the guild hall’s usual noise returned—voices overlapping, chairs scraping, life resuming its normal rhythm.
But at Ace’s table, a brief silence lingered…
only for a full-scale official backstabbing gossip session to begin right on schedule.
Ace didn’t bother hiding his irritation.
“I don’t like that guy at all, Rome. And he talks like he’s always trying to take little digs at people.”
Romeo exhaled like someone who’d already been gnawed on by this topic for the last few minutes.
“Don’t overthink it,”
he said.
“He’s got something stuck in him. A grudge, maybe.”
Romeo’s voice softened, and for once it sounded more tired than elegant.
“We used to be close… so I don’t get it either. Why he’s suddenly this cold toward me.”
“It’s probably the family thing,”
Mary murmured quietly.
Before anyone else could cut in, Mary continued—her tone neat and composed, but her explanation so clear it sounded like it had been lifted straight from a noble etiquette textbook.
“Noble families usually follow a three-part naming structure: the given name, a middle name, and the family name,”
she said.
“But the Alfonso family uses a different custom. They use the given name, the name of an honored ancestor, and the family name specifically to pay respect to Francis Alfonso.”
Mary glanced at Romeo.
“That’s why Rome’s full name is Romeo Francis Alfonso.”
She paused briefly, then continued.
“Branch families don’t inherit the right to carry the name Francis. So they don’t have that middle name. Instead, they simply use Alfonso as the family name.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
She finished calmly, almost clinically.
“That’s why outsiders can tell right away that Finn comes from a branch family.”
Romeo made the face of someone who’d just swallowed something bitter.
“Honestly, Mary… I’m sick of this ridiculous custom. Even after becoming an adventurer, everyone who knows me still keeps calling me Alfonso.”
Ace pointed at himself, as if tossing in a counterargument.
“But even if I do have three names, I’m not some highborn noble, okay?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Sight cut in immediately, his voice carrying that mischievous tone—like he was about to tell a fun story.
Ace snapped his head around.
“Huh?”
Sight shrugged, like it was no big deal.
“You grew up with me in an orphanage, sure. But having three names… could mean you’re from a noble family who got separated from them.”
Lily jumped in without missing the beat.
“Ugh… that’s so soap opera. Seriously.”
Valda, who’d been listening in silence, finally spoke—her voice softer than anyone else’s.
“But… you know,”
she said,
“people in branch families probably have their own troubles, too.”
Romeo nodded as if he agreed, though he clearly didn’t want to expand on it.
“I get it,”
he said.
“That’s why I chose not to work with the royal family like my older brothers… and became an adventurer instead.”
Ace turned to Earp, like he’d found a brand-new target for the gossip circle.
“By the way, Earp your Ripper family never seemed to have problems like that, right? Your family’s highborn too, isn’t it?”
Earp answered immediately, without taking long to think. His tone was polite and even, but firm as ever.
“No, not really.”
He continued.
“The Ripper custom is simple. Once you’re old enough to take missions, you can either stay with the household or leave it’s your choice. The only condition is that you carry the name Ripper with you.”
He paused briefly, then went on in a structured, report-like manner.
“More importantly, we don’t exactly have the leisure to worry about producing more heirs,”
he said.
“If someone in the family is a serious assassin, just doing missions already leaves almost no free time.”
His voice stayed calm.
“Even my father… he only comes home once in a while.”
Earp lifted his gaze slightly. His tone remained flat, but his final words landed like a blade placed neatly on the table for everyone to see.
“Also, the Rippers value loyalty above all else. So we don’t have problems with cheating or children born outside marriage.”
He didn’t raise his voice.
But the last line was ice.
“If someone breaks that rule… they might simply get taken care of.”
“So that Gustav guy… how’d he even end up getting close to you?”
Sight’s voice slid in smoothly, almost casual—but his eyes made it obvious. He wasn’t asking because he was curious.
He was asking because he wanted to tease.
Lily scowled immediately, like someone had poked an old bruise.
“Ugh. Don’t even get me started…”
she groaned.
“That old man spent half his life at the magic academy and still couldn’t graduate.”
She let out a long sigh, then fired off the rest with the pure exhaustion of someone who had suffered through this story too many times.
“Anyone else would’ve given up ages ago, but by the time that guy finally finished… he was already pushing sixty.”
Ace’s eyes widened slightly, as if the information was bizarre enough to make him pause the teasing for a moment.
“Wait… he studied until he was old? The magic academy is pretty open-minded, huh.”
“Yeah.”
Lily nodded like it was nothing—because she’d clearly seen it often enough for it to stop being strange.
“There’s no age limit there. Anyone can enroll. Especially elves and dwarves.”
She leaned back a little, like she was teaching a grade-schooler who kept asking the same question.
“They live way longer than humans, and they’ve got this weird habit sometimes even if they pass, they’ll retake the same class again and again just to get a higher score.”
Lily’s tone stayed matter-of-fact, but the content was absurd enough to be impressive.
“Some of them set goals like ‘I want the top score in this class.’ And yeah… there are people who’ve been looping the same classes for a hundred years.”
Ace looked like he’d just heard a story from another dimension.
“Why would anyone waste their time like that… I get that they live forever, but doing something that pointless with a straight face is insane.”
Lily narrowed her eyes slightly. A thin smile appeared at the corner of her mouth—the smile of someone about to brag…
and somehow still make it sound justified.
“Because the one who took first place in every class…”
She tilted her chin a fraction.
“…was just an ordinary human like me.”
The atmosphere shifted, like someone had tossed a tiny spark right into the middle of the circle.
Lily continued, her voice confident, but also laced with an effortless, almost bored kind of annoyance—like she didn’t even need to try to sound impressive.
“I shattered every record that used to belong to the older generations of elves. That’s why I ended up as the academy’s top name.”
She spoke like she was describing an everyday inconvenience.
“Wherever I went, my name was plastered all over the walls.”
Lily tilted her head again, still casual.
“They probably couldn’t stand it… but even now, nobody’s ever managed to do it again.”
“Still… Mr. Finn seems genuinely skilled.”
Earp spoke in his usual calm, even tone.
“It’s like there’s some kind of aura wrapped around him.”
Valda nodded at once.
“Well, he’s Rank S just like us,”
she said.
“It’s not strange that he looks the part.”
She paused briefly, as if recalling something she’d heard earlier, then continued with crisp certainty.
“And the rest of his members are all Rank A. From what I’ve heard, his party has cleared more S-rank missions than anyone else.”
Her voice stayed neutral—factual, not boastful.
“…Compared to us even though our whole party is Rank S our results don’t measure up.”
The words don’t measure up weren’t meant to put anyone down.
But they still made the table go quiet for a moment.
Ace shifted in his seat, like he was cutting through the lingering heaviness in the air.
“Yeah… let’s split up and rest for today. Tomorrow we’ll regroup and go over everything especially what we heard in that meeting with the guild.”
“Alright. Split up.”
Sight answered briefly, then stood and peeled away immediately.
No need to guess where he was headed—straight to his usual bar, as always.
The others also started drifting off, each at their own pace.
But the post-mission gossip wasn’t confined to their table.
Not even close.
The instant the S-Rank group walked out, the noise in the guild hall surged back in waves—like people who’d been holding their tongues until the moment it was finally safe to let them loose.
“Mr. Finn is seriously incredible. He’s the only Rank S in his party, and he’s cleared countless S-rank quests.”
“Well, obviously. The rest of his members are all Rank A. People like us can’t even compare.”
“Unlike those guys… They’re the only party where everyone’s Rank S, but you almost never see them taking the big jobs.”
“If they actually worked seriously, there wouldn’t be any S-rank quests left. But what do they do instead? Herb-gathering. Merchant escort. Low-rank stuff.”
“S-Rank really does come with ridiculous privilege. They get to pick their own jobs. I’m Rank B and they keep shoving work down my throat until I barely get any sleep.”
“Sure, they’re probably strong, but their laziness? I can’t stand it.”
“Or maybe it’s not even strength. Maybe they got Rank S through connections. Three of them are nobles, aren’t they?”
“Right? I’ve never even seen them do anything serious.”
“Maybe only that kid assassin is the real deal.”
“If we had more S-Ranks like Mr. Finn, I’d feel a lot safer.”
The gossip kept flowing—continuous, self-propelling, like water finding its own way out.
And the people talking had no idea…
that beyond the guild hall, a shadow was leaning against the outer wall.
Sight hadn’t gone anywhere.
He stood there quietly, as if the entire world didn’t matter.
But he heard…
every single word.
The next morning.
Same place. Same guild hall. Same familiar atmosphere.
There were fewer people than usual—it was still early. Guild staff moved efficiently through the space, sweeping and mopping, tidying up the area with practiced ease. Even though the guild technically operated twenty-four hours a day, mornings were always the quietest; hardly anyone came in for services at this hour.
Lily walked in and stopped in front of the quest board. She scanned the posted notices for a moment, eyes moving quickly across the paper. Then she murmured to herself,
“Mm… guess I’ll take this one.”
After that, she turned back and sat down at their usual table.
Not long after, the others began arriving one by one until the whole party was present.
As always, Valda was the one who opened the discussion—her voice clear and organized, like someone used to summarizing work so everyone could keep up.
“Alright. Based on yesterday’s meeting, here’s the conclusion…”
She paused long enough to make sure everyone was paying attention, then continued in crisp bullet points.
“The pyramid dungeon we cleared will not be officially opened yet.”
She went on without losing momentum.
“Only adventurers of Rank A or higher will be allowed to enter, and they’ll have to file for permission first.”
Several of them wore expressions that basically said fair enough, but no one argued. What they had found down there earlier…
wasn’t something anyone should be walking into casually.
Valda continued, steady and to the point.
“Also, there are strange rumors similar to what we heard back in Freyja… about a new Demon Lord.”
Lily’s eyebrow shot up at once.
“So that thing actually exists?”
“It’s still not confirmed,”
Valda answered carefully.
“It sounds more like rumor than fact. But the central authorities aren’t sitting still either. They’ve started making preparations.”
She paused briefly, as if deciding to cap the subject right there.
“But for now, we don’t need to focus on any of that. There isn’t enough information yet far too little to waste attention on.”
Valda nodded slightly, as if closing a file.
“And that’s the full summary.”
Valda glanced around at everyone at the table, then continued in a slightly different tone—like she was about to drop a prize right into the middle of the group.
“As for the reward from our latest quest,”
she said,
“after the cut for the team's common fund…”
She paused just long enough for suspense to bloom.
“…everyone gets 120 gold coins.”
In that instant, the entire table looked like it had been hit by a wake-up spell.
“Yaaaaay!”
The party’s cheer erupted almost simultaneously the moment the number landed.
“120 gold coins… with that much money, I can drink without taking another quest for an entire year.”
Sight said it immediately, his tone dead serious—like he was calculating a national budget.
Ace snapped his head around.
“Hey, hey, hey no you can’t! We still have to take some work.”
“Speaking of work… I found a quest.”
Lily cut in, refusing to let the conversation drift too far into alcohol territory.
“What is it? Something interesting?”
Ace asked quickly, sounding like a man starving for quests.
Lily slammed the request sheet onto the table with a deliberate thunk, making sure everyone could see it clearly.
“Delivery job.”
Valda nodded at once, like she’d just heard the most beautiful word of the morning.
“Sounds good,”
she said.
“Travel and deliver. No babysitting. No risk. No undead…”
She looked visibly relieved.
“And no mess.”
“Exactly.”
Lily gave a small, satisfied smile.
“It’s a delivery to Luna, the kingdom’s magic city. And the best part? It’s easy because I can open a warp gate and get it there in seconds. Faster than any courier.”
“Hold on.”
Romeo raised a hand, polite as always—like a gentleman hitting the brakes.
“If we’re going to Luna… I think we should travel the normal way.”
Lily narrowed her eyes immediately.
“Why?”
she demanded.
“Don’t you trust my teleportation magic?”
“It’s not that,”
Romeo shook his head.
“The route to Luna is one of the most beautiful roads in the entire kingdom,”
he said.
“And you can stop to visit places along the way, too.”
He smiled faintly, like he was selling the idea with quiet confidence.
“Opportunities like that don’t come often.”
Valda looked like something in her heart had been gently tapped.
“You’re right…”
she murmured.
“We really haven’t had a proper rest in a long time.”
She nodded, warming to the thought.
“Treating it like a quest and a small vacation… actually sounds nice.”
Ace nodded quickly, as if he’d already made the decision.
“Then let’s go confirm the quest and head out right away. Valda, you’re already packed, right?”
“I’m packed every day. Always.”
Valda replied instantly, without even needing to think.
Sight grinned wide, like he could already see his own future clearly.
“Perfect. We’ve got somewhere to spend money and stimulate the economy now… so let’s hit the road.”
“Oooooooooh!!”
Everyone cheered at once.
The breakfast-table atmosphere that had been calm just moments ago suddenly sprang to life—as if the day had properly started for real.