Reborn with a Necromancer System - Chapter 104

Chapter 104: The Adventurer’s League

The League headquarters looked more like a tavern than a hall of heroes. Broad beams held up its heavy roof, and stained glass mosaics of beasts and warriors lined the upper walls. A sign creaked overhead: a sword embedded in an open book.

‘Is that supposed to mean that might is above magic? In this world? What sort of eccentric people am I going to deal with?’

Kai stepped through the doors.

And instantly, he was hit by a tidal wave of mana.

It washed over him like molten honey, rich and overwhelming. Fire, frost, light, and darkness, amongst others.

It was all here.

Every type.

Every… flavour.

The room was a smorgasbord of arcane power. Warriors in enchanted armour traded boasts over spiced mead. A frost witch hunched in the corner, her breath turning to snow. A paladin sat reading a prayer book, radiating divine light like a bonfire. Even a man with scales down his arms, draconian blood or some sort of physique-altering magic, maybe, was arm-wrestling someone in the back.

Kai staggered slightly. His stomach growled, not with hunger, but need. He felt his mouth salivate.

His soul hummed at the presence of such potent essence.

‘There’s definitely a sovereign soul here,’ he thought, heart racing. ‘Maybe more than one.’

He steadied himself, breathing through his teeth.

‘Not yet,’ he told himself. ‘One step at a time.’

The people, though, were nothing like he expected. No crazy hair, or outlandish weapons or armour. No adventurers hitting on the staff or bothering newbies. Everyone, from what he saw, got along with and encouraged each other.

There were signs to say alcohol and magic-use were both prohibited. Whether together or separately, he couldn’t tell.

The room, aside from the mana, smelled like pine needles. Cleaner than what he expected when students talked about the barbarous nature of adventurers at the academy.

He walked to the front desk where a bored-looking woman with a pierced brow and a stack of parchment met his gaze.

“Looking for work?” the worker asked, not even glancing up.

Kai nodded.

“Well, what’re you good at?”

Kai considered. “Languages. Combat strategy. General spellcasting.”

The woman snorted. “So… a talkative and talented mage? We’ve got plenty of those.”

Kai allowed himself a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m something like that.”

“Name?”

‘It’ll feel weird. But I used the name for thirty years.’

“Luke. I’m Luke Pascal.”

“Register your identity by filling these forms. You can be reassessed for your specialisation here, or you can write down your most-recent assessment.”

[If you get reassessed, I can change your outward data to represent something different from the real internal data.]

Aside from the fact the system talked about him like he himself was data, his rage boiled.

‘You couldn’t have fucking done that when I got my first assessment? You could have prevented everything!’

“Ah… Kid?” The woman took a step back.

Kai’s frustration showed on his face. He cleared his throat and let out a single controlled breath.

“Reassessment, please.”

“Of course. Please note that the twelve silver coins for payment will be deducted from your first twelve jobs, so long as they pay above a silver coin. Or, you can pay that when you secure the funds. Paying yourself has a time limit of a month, so please-”

Kai pulled out a coin purse with a portion of Orlin’s funds. He counted thirteen silver coins and handed them over.

“Here.”

“But there’s-”

“A tip. Please look after me during my time here, if you can.”

“Of course, sir!”

“So, my reassessment?”

The worker nodded several times and pulled out an orb secured with a small platform. It reminded him of a crystal ball you’d see phony psychics use.

“Place your hands on the crystal. First your right, then your left. Expel your mana, and then, after ten seconds, remove your hands.”

[Rank 7 Elementalist and Strengthening Mage, correct?]

‘Correct.’

Kai felt a small shift inside himself. It was only visual data, but the change was enough to unsettled him.

He followed her instructions.

“Rank 7? Dual specialist?!”

‘I expected being rank seven to bring about a raised eyebrow, but are dual specialists really that rare?’

Kai sighed.

“That sounds right.”

“But…” The girl rambled on about the rarity of dual specialists and considering how to rank him. The most crucial thing was hearing her say she had to get him contracted.

‘I wonder why I’m able to use several magics so well. I’ve seen students at the academy struggle so hard to use different magic than their specialisation. Everyone except the headmaster and Willam. I should’ve asked Willam about his specialisation before I left…’

Kai handed his papers back to her, and she read through them.

“You’re only 16?”

“I am. Shouldn’t be an issue, right? I’m looking for a few jobs. Tutoring ones, if I can.”

“Lousy world… Children getting favoured by divinity… Why couldn’t I have been luckier…?” She rambled, but Kai caught every word.

‘Lucky? Favoured? If only you knew.’

The woman shoved a few more sheets toward him. Different ones this time and they had all of the fields already filled out.

“Tutoring jobs are rare. But the palace sometimes puts in requests. You want a real shot, make a name for yourself first. Earn a badge. Bring back proof of a successful job. You’re not the only one looking to get into the palace these days.”

‘I never said anything about the palace… This woman has been instincts. Maybe I should have gone for rank eight or nine. But I need to get there quickly. Firra is waiting.’

Kai nodded and took the pieces of parchment.

The woman leaned forward on the polished mahogany counter, tapping Kai on the chest with her fingernail. “So, you’re green. Not just new, but green. As green as they come. Let me break it down for you.”

She reached under the desk and pulled out a box of thick, enchanted medallions. Sigils shimmered along their surfaces like etched constellations.

“We don’t do ‘F-rank to S-rank’ here. No lions, dragons, or any such nonsense, either. Those are systems designed by lazy children. For people who need their hands held. This is the Sigil Track. You earn these through contracts, recognition, and not dying stupidly. Each one marks who you are. Or who you used to be.”

She tapped the first one, a dull gray mark like smoke on stone.

“Ash Sigil. Everyone starts here. It means nothing. Less than nothing. You’re firewood waiting to be lit. You want to carry boxes or hunt rats in the slums? Ash gets you there.”

Next, her finger traced over a bronze crest, simple, but proud.

“Bronze Sigil. You’ve taken on your first real contract and survived. It only takes one. Fetch missions, light guard work, patrols near monster-free zones. The guild stops laughing at you. Mostly.”

Her nail scraped across a dark iron mark next.

“Iron Sigil. This means you bled and kept going. You’ve seen a corpse, maybe made one. Creatures, spirits, the occasional back-alley ambush. You take oaths now. If you break ’em? You lose your sigil. And your tongue. Or your life.”

She gave him a wry smile before tapping the next: a gleaming, intricately etched silver crest.

“Silver Sigil. The big leagues, Luke. You’ve saved lives, solved real problems, or completed a high-level contract. Cities send requests straight to your door. People call you ‘sir.’ You’ll hate it.”

Then she swapped it for the next the medallion, revealing a swirling black sigil with a shimmer like oil on water.

“Obsidian Sigil. Not everyone likes these. Most people don’t want them. Assassins, war mages, blood mages: folks who get things done in the dark. The Guild doesn’t encourage this path, but it doesn’t ignore results either.”

She hesitated for the next one, brushing her fingers reverently over a radiant golden emblem.

“Gold Sigil. On the opposite end of the coin from Obsidian. Royalty writes your name in scrolls. You’re too important to fail, too dangerous to ignore. Dragons, demigods, walking curses, that’ll be your daily routine. Only a few ever get this far. Most die long before they could challenge something like a dragon.”

‘I won’t stick around long enough for that.’

Then, her voice dropped a note. The medallion gave off a final shimmer, barely noticeable. A crescent eclipsing a sun.

“Eclipse Sigil. There’s no test for this one. The Guild doesn’t even admit it exists. Eclipse Sigils are disasters in boots. Heroes, villains, or both. If you ever meet one, bow or run. There’s one woman in the world who holds this title.”

She snapped the box of medallions shut and slid it back under the desk.

“You climb the ladder by taking contracts and surviving them. Every sigil glows when you’re on duty, shows your deeds. And no, you can’t fake it. The medallion knows. The gods know.”

She leaned forward, meeting Kai’s eyes.

“Now… you still interested, or do I send you back to whatever scholar’s tower you crawled out of?”

“I’m interested.”

“Good. You’ll start with the Ash Sigil. Nobody skips a sigil, not for any reason.”

“That’s fine with me.”

The woman handed over a medallion with an ash symbol.

“The first time you channel your mana into it, it becomes yours. Losing it can mean a permanent ban with the League, so keep it on you always. Bathe and sleep with it, if you have to. I’m Tiff, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Tiff.” Kai said before he turned back to the room.

He skimmed the pieces of parchment, but nothing spoke out to him immediately.

His mind wandered.

Kleo would be out there now, working her angle. He would have to work his.

And when they reunited, they’d be more prepared. Smarter.

Ready.