"Though both the Stone Manipulation and Martial Arts divisions fall under the combat category and thus receive a greater share of combat-oriented tasks, that is not always the case. There are times when someone may request a child adept at manipulating water-based mana stones from the Stone Manipulation division to irrigate their wheat fields. Or they might commission a student skilled in archery from the Martial Arts division to assist in a hunting expedition or perform mounted archery during grand festivals. While these tasks may not be dangerous per se, failure could bring a humiliation far more devastating than death itself. Knowing one's limits and possessing self-awareness—these are qualities every warrior must cultivate."
"Now then, with the task divisions explained, it's time to discuss the task levels each of you are permitted to undertake."
"Our school is divided into four tiers: the Kindergarten, Elementary, Advanced, and University divisions. Kindergarteners may only accept D-rank missions. Elementary students are allowed to take on D and C-rank missions, while those in the Advanced division may take on D, C, and B-rank tasks. The University division, naturally, has access to all levels. However, let me stress—this classification is merely advisory, based on average capability at each educational tier. A little effort should make each mission achievable at your level."
"Still, we don't discount the appearance of so-called 'geniuses' or 'prodigies.' For instance, a student in the Elementary division of the Arts faculty may be so talented at painting that they complete a B-rank artistic commission with ease. That is certainly within the realm of possibility. As for whether any of you qualify as such prodigies… well, judge for yourselves."
Quelin smiled, spreading her arms wide. "Now then, ladies and gentlemen, any questions?"
Student A: "Teacher! Where do we go to accept these missions?"
Quelin: "On the north side of campus lies an open park, nestled against a towering cliff. At its center stands a large notice board where all available tasks are posted. The board displays only the difficulty level and a brief description—no reward amounts are listed. Once you've chosen a task, memorize its number and report to the nearby registry to register. Once registered, that mission is removed from the board—unless you fail, forfeit, or the client refuses your completion and wishes to repost it."
Student B: "And where do we collect our payment after completing a mission?"
Quelin: "Why, from the client, of course. But if the task is completed by a student, you may present the client's written commission at the registry to receive academic credits. Let me elaborate: if an A-rank task yields 100 points and ten of you complete it as a team, then each member receives 10 points. If it's a hundred-member group, each receives only 1. Choosing an efficient team to maximize results—this too is a soldier's skill. Ah, there's the bell."
It had been a long lecture—perhaps the most enjoyable Quelin had delivered all year. Oddly enough, her students didn't bolt from their seats like they usually did. They lingered, as if brimming with unasked questions.
Another girl raised her hand. Since Quelin was in a good mood, she welcomed the opportunity to continue. But just as she gestured for the girl to speak, a cold, low voice broke in from the side.
"May I leave now?"
She glanced down—it was the fool. He was holding Bread's hand, clearly preoccupied with thoughts of earning money and "educating" her. Eager to return home and prepare dinner, he also planned to "have a talk" with her later that night.
Quelin curled her lip and waved him off dismissively. Class was over, after all, and there was no reason to hold him back—especially considering he wasn't a formal student. He knew nothing of battle, and missions were likely irrelevant to him.
Once the fool had gone, Quelin nodded to the girl, inviting her to speak.
The girl stood, eyes bright with curiosity. "Teacher, um… my cousin graduated from this school, and she once told me about the missions too. But what she said about the ranking system seemed different from what you explained."
"Oh? Different how?"
"She said that officially, A-rank is the highest, but there's a rumored S-rank—far more terrifying than even A. And that such missions never appear on the board… only the headmaster, Mr. Kampa, issues them personally. Is that true?"
At the mention of S-rank tasks, Quelin's smiling expression turned grave. She looked up, pondering quietly for a moment, then sighed.
"Ah… the S-rank…"
"Teacher, what's the truth behind it?"
"Well, the more I try to hide it, the more curious you'll become. I may as well tell you the truth about S-rank missions."
"They are missions of death—true death. The kind where success is a miracle. Assassinating a national leader. Battling apex magical beasts. Exploring molten volcanic caverns where no ordinary soul may tread. These missions are so lethal that posting them would be tantamount to inviting students to their deaths. That's why Headmaster Kampa keeps them sealed away."
"Even those of Jugal's rank and above cannot guarantee a safe return. An abysmal success rate coupled with a staggering mortality rate—that is the legacy of S-rank tasks. If any of you believe yourselves capable, complete a mission appropriate for your level, then imagine the challenges magnified a thousandfold. That would be barely one ten-thousandth the difficulty of an S-rank task."
"Complete enough D-rank tasks, and you'll be ready for C. C leads to B. And B to A."
"But does completing a sufficient number of A-rank missions mean you're prepared for S-rank?"
"My advice: never view S-rank as a natural next step. It is something altogether… different."
Night deepened.
Above the desert, the heavens darkened into a seamless canopy, scattered with twinkling stars. One by one they emerged, lighting the void. Soon, the flawless black was glittering with starlight.
The stars… they seemed so low, as if poised to descend upon the desert's edge. The barren Death Desert, bereft of a horizon, revealed an unexpected gentleness—its stillness providing the perfect cradle for the stars above.
In a thicket nearby, a flicker of light escaped through the broken window of a wooden cabin. Dinner had been eaten; the dishes stacked by the stove, left for later.
Bread sat on the bed, wide emerald eyes fixed on the fool's face, curiosity radiating from her. Perhaps his uncharacteristically serious expression unnerved her, for her own features were stiff, almost fearful, and she looked like she wanted to turn away.
"Mmph…"
"Don't turn your head. Look at me."
The fool reached out, turning Bread's face toward him. He leaned in, his icy expression drawing closer, dead eyes fixed on hers.
If she was ever to speak again, she would need practice—lots of it. Dialogue was essential. So he pressed on.
The Milky Way sparkled overhead. The air was crisp. A lone Duran tree, growing from a crack in the floorboards, swayed its delicate leaves beneath the moonlight streaming through the ceiling.
In this tranquil space…
"Murder. MUR-der. Dismember-ment. Dis-section. DE-ceit."
The fool had begun what could only be described as an extremely serious and stern… language lesson.
Bread's neural pathways for speech and throat control had long been damaged by trauma and illness. And considering that this fool had likely spoken fewer than three sentences to her in the past week, how could she improve just from today's sudden training? She merely sat there, blankly watching his mouth open and close, unable to understand, let alone imitate.
"…Repeat after me. Ma-gic—Cry-stal—Card. Thieeeef."
"Mmyaahh~~? Mmyaa… mmya!"
No matter how long he tried, he received only these indecipherable sounds in return. He sighed and bowed his head in helpless resignation.
Seeing this, Bread seemed to consider something. Then, she suddenly scrambled over the bed, thudding behind him.
"Mmyaa~!"
With a baby-like cry, she climbed onto his back without warning, hands and feet gripping like a mischievous little beast.
"Getting this girl to talk… might be harder than seducing Launord into falling from grace and becoming the Demon King."
Dark Annihilation opened his blood-red eyes and sighed.
"From my perspective, I don't really care if she ever speaks. What I want to know is how you plan to spend this summer. More water-fetching from the pool? You did one last year—how about two this time? Three?"
"…"
"Oh come on, spare me! That's so dull. I'm not spending another two months fetching water. If we're saving up for that Fire Dragon's Tongue of hers, we ought to do something big. You've learned about the missions, haven't you? Why not take on an A-rank job or two? Trust me—so long as I'm still in your hand, no A-rank mission will ever get the better of you."