Chapter 8
◆ Rank Promotion Exam
Yoshio opened the envelope and checked its contents.
The letter was brief.
It was handwritten by Guildmaster Baldos, stating:
“Lord Yoshio,
As of today, you are granted eligibility to take the rank promotion exam.
This will be a special advancement test from E‑rank directly to C‑rank.
The exam consists of a practical assessment and an interview.
The schedule will be announced soon—prepare accordingly.
This recommendation was unanimously approved by all guild staff.”
A recommendation letter was enclosed, bearing signatures from the receptionist Melissa and Leon’s escort party.
Tomas had even written a long endorsement praising Yoshio’s “achievement in magic‑stone recycling technology.”
C‑rank meant joining the ranks of mid‑level adventurers.
It opened the door to a far wider range of requests, including personal commissions and even government contracts.
As identification, it carried significant social credibility.
Not much time had passed since Yoshio arrived in this world, yet he had already achieved stable production of beauty potions, subdued a wyvern, and discovered magic‑stone reuse.
Each achievement might seem modest alone, but together they formed a solid foundation—and now the results were returning to him.
Although he had only recently become E‑rank,
he sent back a reply accepting the promotion exam.
The next morning, when he delivered his answer to the guild, Melissa greeted him with a bright smile.
Her efficiency was as sharp as ever.
Processing documents, she said:
“Your exam is in three days.
The practical test will be held at the training grounds behind the guild.
Your examiner is B‑rank adventurer Wolf.
The content will be mock combat and situational judgment.”
Three days of preparation.
He needed to check his equipment, maintain his condition, and—more importantly—prove he had the adaptability expected of a C‑rank adventurer.
Mock battles were traditionally kept secret until the day of the exam.
When Yoshio informed Gardos, he was told to take a break from advisory work until the exam was over.
Business was going well, so he needn’t worry.
On the evening of the second day, Yoshio found himself walking toward the outskirts of the capital—the hill where he had first appeared in this world.
Back then, he had no idea where he was.
Now, he had a home, people he could rely on, and a world still waiting to be explored.
The night wind brushed his cheek.
Tomorrow was the exam.
He checked his current level.
When he focused, a translucent window appeared before him.
【Status】
Name: Yoshio
Race: Human
Age: 22
Occupation: Merchant Lv.10, Adventurer (E‑rank)
Level: 28
Base Vitality: 20/100
Base Magic: 30/100
Skills:
Creativity Lv.7
Fragrance Mixing Lv.7
Perfumer’s Sense Lv.7
Perfume Creation Lv.6
Infinite Storage (Large) Lv.5
Appraisal Lv.5
Healing Power Lv.3
Calculation Lv.3
Memory Lv.3
Magic Manipulation Lv.5
Subjugation Magic Lv.5
Magic‑Stone Infusion Lv.5
Fire Magic Aptitude Lv.1
Appliance Creation Lv.1
Craft Lv.5
Titles:
Royal Merchant
Magic‑Stone Technician
Master of the Wyvern
HP: 320/320
MP: 580/580
Level 28—within this world’s standards, that was the threshold of a mid‑tier adventurer.
His magic manipulation and magic‑stone infusion skills had grown significantly, strengthening both combat and production abilities.
His high MP reflected the many magic‑related skills he possessed.
His occupations displayed Merchant Lv.10 and Adventurer Lv.28.
The wyvern subjugation had clearly contributed.
But he had no combat skills related to swordsmanship.
If the exam required sword fighting, he might fail.
He would have to rely on magic.
Crafting weapons was possible, but wielding them effectively was another matter.
If he chose a magic‑focused fighting style, he needed a clear strategy.
Magic shots, body enhancement for mobility, or using subjugation magic to summon support—each approach would change the flow of the exam.
Back at the inn, he sat at his desk and planned.
Melissa had said Wolf was a B‑rank warrior.
Direct melee combat was out of the question.
But relying solely on magic might fail the adaptability portion.
As night deepened, an idea surfaced:
If he could use Craft to create improvised magic‑enhanced traps or defensive tools, that would count as valid tactics.
With refined magic control, he could respond to sudden situations.
The next morning, he trained early in the grasslands outside the capital.
One day remained.
He expanded his trap repertoire using Craft.
He trained magic control.
He practiced body enhancement for speed.
There was much to do.
Standing in the grasslands, he used Craft to manipulate the soil—raising stone spikes, forming hardened earth walls.
Simple traps, but effective with timing and placement.
Next, body enhancement.
Focusing magic into his legs, he ran—three times faster than usual.
But stopping was difficult; he nearly tripped.
He repeated it until his body learned the sensation.
By sunset, he had over ten usable trap variations:
pitfalls, magic‑shot launchers, magic nets, sticky floors for immobilization.
At night, he practiced fine magic control—extending thin threads of magic from his fingertips and manipulating them freely.
If mastered, he could reach distant targets.
And so, the morning of the exam arrived.
◆ Exam Day
At the guild reception counter, Melissa greeted him.
“Good morning, Yoshio. The exam grounds are ready. Do your best.”
“I will. Thank you,” he replied, then headed to the testing area.
Behind the guild, the training grounds had been expanded to nearly twice their usual size.
A circular arena of packed earth was enclosed by wooden fencing, and a small crowd had gathered—promotion exams were apparently a popular form of entertainment.
Standing at the center of the arena was a single man.
A large, rugged figure with an unkempt beard, a greatsword strapped to his back.
“So you’re Yoshio. I’ve heard the rumors—apparently you’ve been doing some flashy things for an E‑rank.”
Wolf’s tone was casual, but his eyes were not smiling.
He looked Yoshio over as if weighing him.
Cracking his neck, he said:
“Rules are simple. Fight me and survive. The match ends when you surrender or can’t continue.
Use whatever you want—weapons, magic, anything.
Just no killing. The healer’s standing by.”
A white‑robed healer waited at the edge of the arena.
Wolf drew his greatsword, resting it on his shoulder. The blade glinted dully in the sunlight.
He took his stance.
“Come whenever you’re ready.”
Yoshio raised his hand and fired the magic bullets he had practiced the day before—weak enough not to injure.
Compressed mana formed into three glowing white projectiles that shot toward Wolf.
Wolf deflected the first with the flat of his blade.
“Whoa.”
He dodged the second with a smooth sidestep, then stomped the ground to cancel the third with a shockwave.
Even with reduced power, a B‑rank adventurer’s reaction speed was on another level.
Wolf smirked.
“You’re holding back? Kind of you, but in an exam, that’ll cost you points.”
Before he finished speaking, Wolf closed the distance.
One step cut the gap in half—his footwork was monstrous.
His greatsword swept sideways, the wind pressure alone kicking up dust.
Yoshio reacted instantly—Craft skill.
He raised a stone wall from the ground and simultaneously created a pitfall beneath Wolf.
The greatsword smashed through the wall with a heavy crack, and Yoshio leapt aside.
The wall shattered in one blow, but that moment was enough.
Mana surged through the ground, collapsing the earth beneath Wolf’s feet.
Wolf lost his footing.
“What—!?”
He jammed his greatsword into the ground to stop himself from falling, supporting his weight with one arm while pulling the blade free with the other.
His legs were buried up to the knees, restricting his movement.
But Wolf’s expression changed.
The playful look vanished, replaced by a feral grin.
He kicked off the ground with brute force.
“Now this is fun!”
Wolf burst out of the pit, kicking up a cloud of dust.
His speed was far greater than before—he was using full body enhancement.
Mana began to gather around his greatsword.
Yoshio used his final trump card: the magic net.
A shimmering net of mana unfolded in midair and dropped over Wolf, wrapping around him as he charged.
The net constricted, binding his limbs and torso.
His greatsword halted mid‑swing, and Wolf struggled inside the glowing mesh.
“Damn it… can’t move!”
For several seconds, he fought against the net.
The mesh began to tear under his strength—he would break free soon.
But a few seconds were all Yoshio needed.
He kept his distance, ready to act again.
The net finally snapped, and Wolf staggered free, breathing heavily.
He lowered his greatsword and laughed.
“That’s enough. You pass.”
A murmur rippled through the spectators.
The healer sighed, disappointed he hadn’t been needed.
Wolf extended a hand.
“Your judgment and adaptability are C‑rank or higher.
Never seen a magic net like that.”
Yoshio passed the exam—and promptly collapsed to his knees.
Wolf looked down at him.
“Hey, you alright?”
The tension had snapped.
Continuous magic control and Craft use had drained far more stamina and mental strength than expected.
His hands trembled slightly.
Melissa rushed over.
“Yoshio! Are you okay?”
He waved her off weakly.
“I’m fine. Just out of energy. I’ll recover with a bit of rest.”
Wolf strode away, and the spectators dispersed.
Only Yoshio and Melissa remained in the training grounds.
She handed him a water flask.
“Here. And… congratulations. Passing into C‑rank is incredible.
Almost no one advances this quickly.”
A sip of water eased his fatigue.
He looked up at the sky—clouds drifting slowly.
Since being thrown into this world, he had come a long way.
The road ahead was still long, but he was moving forward.
“Thank you, Melissa. You’ve helped me so much.
I wouldn’t have passed this fast without your support.
I really mean it.”
Melissa’s cheeks flushed.
“I—I only did my job at the counter… but hearing that makes me very happy.”
She hugged her stack of documents to her chest, flustered.
Clearing her throat, she said:
“A‑anyway… we need to complete the formal registration.
Please come to the reception desk.
I’ll issue your new guild card and explain the C‑rank request list.”
They returned to the guild.
Melissa processed the paperwork swiftly, and soon Yoshio received his new guild card.
Silver‑trimmed—far more refined than his old E‑rank card.
Near the bulletin board, Leon and his party were waiting.
Leena clapped softly, and Tomas hurried over, excited.
“The magic net—you must register that spell!
It’s academically fascinating!”
“I recreated the technique we used to capture the wyvern,” Yoshio explained.
Tomas scribbled notes rapidly.
“So it was based on that!
Your mana weaving has a unique pattern—this could be formalized!”
Melissa smiled gently.
“Congratulations, Yoshio. You’re officially C‑rank now.”
Leon crossed his arms.
“C‑rank means you can take escort missions.
How about joining our party?
It’s time to think seriously about it.”
Leon had suggested this before, but C‑rank was a requirement.
Now Yoshio was eligible.
Their party had three C‑ranks and one D‑rank—a balanced, reliable team.
Melissa added:
“We can register your party here as well.
The guild will handle reward distribution and contribution tracking.”
A new path opened before him.
He could continue solo, or walk alongside trusted companions.
But he still had plenty of merchant work to handle.
For now, he decided to postpone joining a party.
◆ Aerial Transport
The next morning, Yoshio visited the leatherworker’s workshop, where an elderly dwarf craftsman greeted him.
His name was Gorg.
With thick fingers hardened by years of smithing, Gorg laid out sample after sample of finely crafted leather.
As he spread the wyvern‑scale leather, he asked:
“So, wyvern‑hide saddle, huh? What’s the rider’s build?”
“The wyvern will be used for aerial transport between towns.
Most of my workers are women, so I’d like it to be suitable for both men and women.”
Gorg stroked his beard.
“For aerial transport, the saddle needs to be comfortable for long hours—no sore hips or lower back.
And you’ll need a wind shield.”
He pulled out a stack of blueprints from a shelf.
He had experience crafting saddles for large bird‑type beasts, and he traced the diagrams with practiced ease.
After calculating the estimate, he said:
“Saddle body, wind shield, reins, and safety harness—comes to 25 gold coins.
Materials are wyvern leather and an iron frame.
I can finish it in ten days.”
It was a reasonable price.
But Yoshio had another idea:
Could he use his Craft skill to create a partial storage compartment?
Even if the exterior and leatherwork required a craftsman’s hand, if Yoshio could craft the internal frame and magic‑conducting structure, the compartment could maintain temperature and pressure—ideal for transporting goods.
He proposed the idea to Gorg:
“I want to attach storage compartments to the sides or rear of the saddle.
I’ll use my Craft skill to create the internal magic mechanism that keeps the temperature and pressure stable.
Could you build the exterior to match that?”
Gorg’s eyes widened.
“Controlling the internal environment with magic?
Never heard of a storage box like that.”
His craftsman spirit ignited.
He stood up and began rummaging through tools on the workbench.
Excited, he muttered:
“So you’re planning to embed a magic circuit inside the compartment.
If it keeps the interior stable regardless of outside temperature, then even long‑distance flights won’t spoil the goods.
That’s revolutionary!”
Their discussion grew heated.
Gorg listed structural requirements, and Yoshio described the magical mechanisms he could reproduce with Craft.
After several rounds of adjustments, they agreed on a division of labor:
Yoshio would craft the internal frame and magic circuit, while Gorg would handle the exterior leatherwork and safety harness.
Gorg extended his hand.
“This is a damn interesting job.
Gets my craftsman’s blood pumping.
I’ll have the best saddle ready in ten days.”
◆ The Device for Making Paper from Grain Husks
Yoshio visited the industrial district’s test workshop to check on the progress of the device that would turn barley and wheat husks into paper.
When he arrived, Alan was waiting at the entrance.
He still had dark circles under his eyes, but his expression was full of energy.
With a tired smile, he said:
“Good timing. Come take a look.”
The device installed at the back of the workshop had been significantly improved since the previous design.
It now had a hopper for inserting grain husks, a drying chamber to remove moisture, a grinding unit to loosen the fibers, and a press section to form the pulp—an entire production flow.
The first prototype sheet lay on the workbench.
Alan picked it up.
“The strength still needs work, but it’s definitely paper.
The problem is removing impurities—one out of three batches gets clogged when the fibers tangle.”
He pointed to each part of the device, explaining in detail.
The magic‑powered drying mechanism seemed to be working better than expected, and his voice carried confidence.
Two young assistants worked silently on adjustments.
Lowering his voice, Alan continued:
“To tell you the truth, I brought this idea to the upper members of the Merchant Guild…
They’re interested, but they’re hesitant to invest until it’s fully practical.
They said, ‘We can just buy paper from other countries.’”
Yoshio asked:
“Would mass‑producing paper cause a conflict of interests?”
Alan grimaced.
“Exactly. There’s a Paper Guild—they’ve got their eyes on us.
Paper exists in this world, but it’s a luxury.
Parchment and wooden tablets are the norm, and the Paper Guild practically monopolizes supply.
If a newcomer floods the market with cheap husk‑paper, their vested interests take a hit.”
Alan leaned closer and whispered:
“They even came to me directly and told me, ‘Don’t cause trouble.’”
The Paper Guild’s influence ran deep in the capital’s commercial world.
They supplied paper to nobles and government offices—making them a troublesome enemy.
Alan shrugged.
“So right now, I can’t move openly.
We’re making prototypes in secret, but mass production is a whole different story.”
A clash with entrenched power.
Money and reputation alone wouldn’t solve this.
Yoshio said, surprised:
“I’ve already explained paper mass production to the king.
These vested interests are holding back the nation’s future.
I’ll report this to His Majesty.”
Alan blinked.
“To the king!?
Well, that’s the most effective route, but… you have connections like that?”
Thanks to the wyvern offering, Yoshio had access to the royal palace—Alan’s surprise was understandable.
Alan frowned thoughtfully.
“But the Paper Guild isn’t stupid.
They’ve probably already bribed someone in the palace.
Rumor says even ministers are on their payroll.”
Even so, going through official channels was the best move.
If the king issued a decree, the Paper Guild couldn’t interfere.
The challenge was securing an audience—but going through Prince Leonard would make it easier.
Alan looked Yoshio straight in the eyes.
“If you’re really going to do this, bring the actual device.
Seeing is believing.”
He began packing prototype sheets into a leather bag.
Whether husk‑paper would change the nation’s future depended on Yoshio’s next move.
Yoshio outlined his plan:
“First, finish the device.
Then calculate costs.
If we can build ten units, paper will circulate nationwide.
I’ll submit a formal petition to the palace.”
Alan nodded firmly.
“That’s the right approach.
Finish the device, build a track record, then submit the petition.”
A petition could be delivered to the king through the ministers—more natural than approaching the prince directly.
And with real numbers and a working device, the argument would be far more convincing.
Alan clenched his fist.
“Alright. I’ll finish the device.
I’ll also estimate parts for ten units—just make sure you secure the funds.”
Once the plan was set, Alan moved quickly.
He issued instructions to his assistants and began final adjustments.
Yoshio left the workshop, already calculating costs in his head.
One device’s construction cost, parts for ten units, labor, transport…
It would likely require around 500 gold coins.
With profits from the magic‑stone business and payments from Gardos, it wasn’t impossible—but it was a major investment.
Walking through the evening streets, Yoshio renewed his resolve as a merchant.
This was an investment—into the future of this world.
The paper‑making device was completed, cost calculations were finished, and Yoshio compiled the materials and demand projections into a formal petition to submit to the royal palace.
◆ Royal Audience
The petition was submitted to a royal administrator through Gardos’s introduction.
A few days later, a reply arrived. The message was simple:
“His Majesty wishes to hear the matter personally.
Present yourself in the audience chamber three days from now, in the morning.”
Audience Day
Three days later, Yoshio donned formal attire and passed through the great doors of the royal palace.
The audience chamber was far grander than the one he had visited when meeting the prince.
Civil officials and military officers stood on both sides of the throne, and royal guards lined the walls.
The air was heavy.
From the throne, the king spoke:
“So, you are the petitioner.”
“I have had an audience before, Your Majesty.”
The king, with a beard streaked with white, looked down at Yoshio with sharp eyes—an aura befitting the ruler of a nation.
Yoshio bowed and began:
“The device for producing paper from grain husks has been completed.
By manufacturing ten units, paper can be distributed throughout the kingdom.
This will advance domestic industry and culture.
Furthermore, widespread access to paper will raise literacy rates, improve education, and strengthen the nation.”
The king leaned forward, intrigued.
“Paper from husks… The Paper Guild would faint if they heard this.”
A faint smile touched his lips, while the surrounding officials murmured.
A minister stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, please reconsider. The Paper Guild has already submitted a complaint, claiming that new entrants will disrupt the market. If we approve this too easily—”
The king silenced him with a gesture.
“Enough. It is discourteous to voice objections before the petitioner.”
The minister reluctantly stepped back.
The king returned his gaze to Yoshio.
“Speak in detail.
What is the cost?
How long does each device last?
Is the supply of raw materials stable?
And this claim of improving literacy—how long until results appear?”
Rapid‑fire questions—but they showed genuine interest.
A scribe was already writing down every word.
Yoshio answered:
“We will bear the cost of manufacturing the devices.
We request permission to sell paper and will pay taxes from the profits.
With maintenance, each device should last around ten years.
As for literacy—among commoners, it is nearly zero.
With paper, we can create textbooks and establish educational institutions—schools.
Gather students and teach reading, writing, and arithmetic.”
A long silence.
“…Schools.”
The atmosphere shifted.
The noble-born officials exchanged uneasy glances.
The concept of “schools” was not common in this world.
Private tutors and small academies existed, but no state-run educational institutions.
A minister burst out:
“Educating commoners? That would undermine noble privilege!”
The king shot him a cold look.
“I said silence.”
The minister paled and fell quiet.
The king’s eyes returned to Yoshio.
In a calm voice, he asked:
“You said you would pay taxes from your profits.
Is that merely a merchant’s calculation…
or is it for the sake of this kingdom?
Which is it?”
A decisive question.
The king’s judgment hinged on the answer.
The chamber grew tense.
Yoshio replied:
“We already earn sufficient profit.
If the people’s lives improve, the nation prospers.
It is for the good of the kingdom.”
Another long silence—then the king nodded deeply.
“…Very well. I approve it.”
The chamber erupted in murmurs.
The minister stared at the king in disbelief.
The king continued:
“You are permitted to manufacture ten devices and sell paper.
However, there are conditions.”
He raised one finger.
“First: the establishment of these ‘schools’ must wait until I personally authorize it.
I will handle the political groundwork so the bureaucrats do not interfere.”
It was both a warning and a promise of royal backing.
Then the second condition:
“Second: minimize conflict with the Paper Guild.
They, too, are subjects of this kingdom.
Seek coexistence, not destruction.
If you cannot do that, I will revoke my approval.”
A ruling both generous and stern.
The king was no soft ruler—Yoshio would need political finesse as well.
◆ The Paper Guild
After leaving the royal palace, Yoshio headed to the Paper Guild.
The guild occupied a prominent stone building in the center of the capital, with a sign reading “Guardians of Paper and Knowledge.”
Inside, a neat reception area and a corridor stretched toward the back.
The receptionist looked at him coldly.
“Who might you be?
Non‑members require an introduction letter.”
There was no hint of welcome.
It was an unannounced visit, so her reaction was understandable.
But Yoshio had the king’s approval—there was no reason to back down.
“I have received His Majesty’s permission regarding paper sales.
I am here to speak with the Paper Guild’s leadership.”
Her expression changed instantly.
“P‑please wait a moment…”
She hurried into the back.
When she returned, she guided Yoshio to a reception room on the second floor.
After a few minutes, the door opened.
A stout middle‑aged man entered, wearing a fine coat and a gold brooch.
Several jeweled rings glittered on his fingers.
A thin, nervous man followed behind him.
The stout man sat down.
“I am Markus, Guildmaster.
I hear His Majesty has granted approval.
Explain the matter.”
His voice was calm, but his eyes were not smiling.
The thin man behind him trembled slightly—perhaps already aware of the situation, or fearing the worst.
Yoshio spoke:
“We have received royal permission to sell paper.I have come to discuss cooperation—
I would like the Paper Guild to handle our paper as well, so we may share profits.”
Markus raised an eyebrow.
“Handle it…?”
It was clearly unexpected.
He had assumed Yoshio came to challenge them.
The thin man looked equally confused.
Markus asked cautiously:
“You are not here to destroy us?”
His tone softened slightly.
He was still wary, but willing to listen.
“I have no intention of hostility.
Paper production and sales will expand more quickly if multiple merchants participate.
We will even lend you the manufacturing devices.”
Markus shifted in his seat.
“Lend us the devices?
You would hand over your own business tools?
Are you sane?”
Suspicion deepened.
It was natural—no merchant gives away their advantage without reason.
Markus clasped his ring‑covered hands, studying Yoshio closely.
“Then what are your conditions?
Surely you are not speaking out of goodwill.”
The negotiation had begun.
Every word mattered now.
Yoshio answered:
“Parchment cannot meet demand.
Paper is effectively a noble privilege.
At current production levels, commoners will never have access.
But with cheap paper circulating, the guild will gain enormous profits.
We both benefit.”
Markus fell silent for a moment.
“…A noble privilege, huh.
You strike at the heart of the matter.”
He lowered his voice.
“But if cheap paper spreads, nobles will buy that instead.
Our sales will drop.
That is obvious.”
He had hit the core issue.
This was the decisive moment.
The thin man still trembled, waiting for Markus’s judgment.
Yoshio replied:
“Compare noble consumption with commoner consumption.
Even if nobles continue buying parchment, the commoners’ demand will be ten times—no, a hundred times greater.”
Markus’s eyes widened.
“A hundred times…”
It didn’t take long for him to grasp the meaning.
Nobles used paper only for letters, contracts, and ledgers—limited quantities.
But if paper reached the entire population, demand would explode:
textbooks, trade records, daily notes, business documents—an endless market.
Markus wiped sweat from his brow.
“So we have been selling scraps to nobles…
while ignoring a massive market right under our noses.”
It was half disbelief, half awe.
A man who had led the guild for forty years had finally seen the blind spot.
Markus slowly stood and extended his hand.
“We will consider the matter seriously.
Let us discuss the details.”
“Thank you.”
They spent two hours negotiating.
Markus proved surprisingly flexible—
the phrase “enormous profits” had clearly struck home.
They agreed on leasing fees for the devices, joint procurement of materials, and price segmentation for different types of paper.
"Please let me know if there are any mistakes in the translation."