There was one secret at the Hero Society's headquarters that wasn't much of a secret. A clear motif guided the design of the huge facilities. If a person looked down from the sky, the headquarters presented an interesting sight.

It resembled two large ships joined side by side like a catamaran. The long buildings looked like masts, the wide-open grounds resembled decks, and the protruding section at the front called to mind the bow of a ship. The main building of the Hero Society, where the core facilities were gathered, rose tall like a ship's bridge.

Within the Hero Society, loud arguments, disputes, and even fist fights usually erupted on the top floor of this building. This time was no exception. The cause was the A-class hero examination, widely regarded as the most difficult third test of the Hero Society's promotion trial.

During this test, an A-class hero had to receive a challenger's attack directly and score it. Yet in an absurd turn of events, the A-class hero was defeated.

The incident could not be dismissed. The test took place on a grand scale in the gymnasium, and this particular promotion trial had drawn many promising candidates.

Naturally, the audience had been several times larger than usual, perhaps even dozens of times larger. It was impossible to silence all of them. In any case, the Hero Society did not make a practice of suppressing information like this.

Even so, it wasn't a matter that could be easily overlooked. Thus, a number of heroes gathered together in the conference room on the top floor of Hero Society's main building today to resolve the situation.

"Haven't I told you before?" said a middle-aged man with a mustache like a mouse's whiskers, his tone blunt. "We should get rid of the A-class hero evaluations from the promotion trial."

He was Mausard, the leader of Bird and Mouse, an A-class clan and the Hero Society's largest intelligence organization. That title alone gave weight to his words. Yet, judging the people who attended the meeting, his position wasn't particularly remarkable in this gathering.

"Get rid of it?" The sharp reply came from a man who resembled a wolf.

It wasn't just his presence; he truly looked the part. Wolf-like ears rose from his hair, the corners of his mouth almost reached his ears, and his partially transformed hands displayed sharp claws. He was Peter Fang, the beastfolk leader of Full Moon, a famous A-class combat clan.

"A rat like you wants to change a long-standing custom?" Peter let out a low growl. "How ridiculous."

"Peter Fang, do you want your head gnawed on first?" Mausard shot back.

"Try it, rat," Peter challenged. "Your disgusting front teeth won't even touch my mane."

Fewer than ten people attended the meeting. The hero profession kept most members perpetually busy, and this meeting's agenda lacked the usual urgency. As such, many chose not to attend despite being at headquarters.

After all, it wasn't related to the imperial family's efforts to keep the heroes in check, the Dark Church's growing power, or looming threats from demons and demonic beasts. At most, it involved a review of the third promotion test and a readjustment of the A-class examination criteria.

The handful of attendees quickly split into two camps over the proposal. Naturally, there were those in favor, and those who opposed it. Bird and Mouse's Mausard was in favor of it. Peter Fang of Full Moon voiced strong opposition.

The two heroes now speaking most harshly acted as representatives of their respective camps. Surprisingly, no one expressed neutrality.

By then, a considerable amount of time had passed since the meeting started, yet the opposing views showed no sign of narrowing.

The stalemate broke only when the door of the conference room opened. A man stepped inside and spoke casually. "Huh? It isn't over yet?"

The newcomer's gentle expression and voice didn't match his large, rock-solid physique.

No one present called out the man's abrupt interruption. He possessed the standing to enter and leave the conference room during a meeting as freely as if it were his own bedroom. He was the leader of the Sky-Destroying Sword Group, a war hero of the east, and, above all, one of the few S-class heroes in the Hero Society.

"You came, Sir Maxim?" Mausard addressed him with formal courtesy.

Peter growled, baring his fangs, but said nothing.

Maxim laughed. "Yes. I hurried over since I was worried you would waste precious time again."

"It isn't a waste of time," Mausard muttered, his voice edged with discomfort.

Maxim chuckled and sat down at the head of the table. The fairly large chair couldn't bear his weight and shook loudly.

"I think I understand why this discussion keeps dragging on. Let me state my opinion first. There is no need to change the third promotion test's system," Maxim stated.

"A situation like today could happen again," someone rebuked.

"Then you should welcome it," Maxim replied. "Isn't one of the Hero Society's mottos to recruit and nurture talent? It isn't like we were defeated by a powerful enemy. Instead, we are carried forward by a new wave. What is wrong with that? New heroes should always be welcome. Of course, the A-class hero who loses should take it as a lesson and strive to improve."

"Sir Maxim, A-class is the ultimate goal of every hero," Mausard countered. "Those who become the target of others' ambitions must be mindful of their words and actions and protect their dignity. What I want to say is that their prestige will suffer if this keeps happening."

This concern was precisely why the review of the third promotion test and the A-class evaluation criteria were considered together rather than addressed separately.

Maxim shook his head and continued, "Even now, many people are dissatisfied with the current Hero Society ranking and evaluation systems. In particular, the difficulty of the A-class promotion test varies wildly depending on the examiner's capabilities. For them, this recent battle is the perfect handle to seize. If the majority has raised objections, then there is a problem. So why not introduce an exception rule?"

"In what way?"

Maxim elaborated, "Once someone reaches A-class, there is practically no demotion system. Unless they betray the Hero Society or turn out to be a spy... That is the only situation."

Peter's eyebrows twitched as he listened. "Um. Don't tell me..."

Maxim went on, "Add a demotion system to A-class. It would apply to cases like damaging their reputation, just like this time, or failing to achieve anything over a long period."

One of the A-class heroes, who had remained silent until then, said cautiously, "There will be strong backlash from the A-class heroes."

"Of course, there will be," Maxim replied. "So you can just ignore what I said."

"Huh?"

"You know that I don't have a talent for using my brain. Even now, I'm just saying whatever comes to my mind. Don't think too deeply about it." Maxim wiped the smile from his face. "However, I know this from experience. Every transformation or innovation of an existing system meets immediate opposition, criticism, and condemnation. The process won't be easy. It is up to you to decide whether these are the ramblings of a fool or the first step toward change."

"We understand."

In the end, Maxim voted on two proposals. He supported one and opposed the other.

Perhaps due to this, the heated arguments between Mausard and Peter softened. The meeting, which had dragged on for a long time, finally started to wrap up.

Maxim had spoken as if he were ignorant, but no one present believed him. It was possible that his knowledge was not deep, but he could swiftly identify the root of a conflict and mediate between two opposing views. That required sharp senses.

"Okay. Then we will end the meeting here." Maxim stood, grabbed the doorknob, and was about to leave when he suddenly turned back. "Ah, right. Which clan does Luan Badniker belong to?"

***

—It was a great technique.

The first words I heard from the Martial God after a long time were praise.

He was the Martial God, so I knew he never spoke carelessly about martial arts. In other words, the technique I had created on the fly was acknowledged as pretty good. I felt proud of myself.

"It is thanks to your advice, Martial God."

—My advice?

"Yes. You told me to treat the second half of the White Sun Eclipse as the defensive component."

—I see. It was the final missing piece.

"Missing piece?"

—Messenger, your attitude toward martial arts, your struggles, your training, and your internal energy circulation. The combination of these things produced this result. Accept it with pride.

The Martial God sounded satisfied.

After being praised so directly, I found myself at a loss for words. Honestly, the victory had not come without cost. The match with Heero had been an overwhelming win, but it left behind some after-effects I couldn't ignore.

I glanced at my right palm and shook my head.

—The fine veins in your right arm are badly damaged.

"That's right."

Clenching and unclenching my hand had become difficult. It was a side effect of using my internal energy too forcefully, but the symptoms were worse than I anticipated this time.

Even when I stood still, the inside of my arm burned with heat. It felt like hundreds of heated needles were piercing my veins. The pain was severe. The damage showed clearly on the surface. Burns covered my entire right arm. I had suffered burns despite nearly perfect mastery of the First Fire Technique.

"I never thought I would experience something like this."

Life proved interesting precisely because it refused to follow expectations. Or so people liked to say. In reality, the burn was really painful, irritating, and uncomfortable. More than anything, it was just annoying.

—For the time being, avoid using your right arm as much as possible. Forcing your internal energy will only make it worse.

"As expected, I have no choice."

I clicked my tongue. A moment later, a knock sounded at the door.

I rose from my seat and opened it.

"Good morning!"

A woman stood there, more annoying than the burn on my arm. My expression tightened as I said, "What is it?"

"You don't seem to be in a good mood. Did something happen?" Verita asked.

"I have to see this annoying face first thing in the morning," I grumbled.

"Uwah, I'm sorry..."

I glared at Verita, who was genuinely sad. Then I remembered something and held out my arm. "Speaking of which, don't you have some ability for healing, Sister Razbet?"

"Yes!"

"Then look at this." I felt a flicker of unease as I showed her the wound. The image of the knight who had died with his head smashed by her mace flashed through my mind. "Can you fix this burn?"

"Ah... Hah." Verita's eyes shook slightly at the sight of it. She took a few deep breaths, then shook her head carefully. "I'm sorry, but this injury can't be healed."

I was glad she didn't lose control, but her answer disappointed me.

"Why?" I asked.

"Hmm... That..." Verita fell silent in embarrassment, and I quickly understood why. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Damn it. It is due to the blue flame. The flame was drawn from Dark Qi, and wounds inflicted by Dark Qi resisted healing even when a priest used divine power. A Bishop's divine power could likely make a difference.

I never thought I would miss Hellstar. Still, I couldn't travel all the way to the capital to seek his treatment. As the Martial God had said, I had to focus on recovery for the time being.

While I was thinking about this, I suddenly had a question. "That reminds me."

"Yes."

"How did your promotion match go?" I asked.

Six people had participated in this promotion match, with three A-class heroes assigned. Under the rules, each A-class hero would face two challengers. I had incapacitated Heero, which left Verita without an opponent.

"The date has been adjusted! They asked me whether I wanted to take the promotion test again in one week," she replied.

"So what did you say?"

"It is still pending." She glanced at me as she spoke. Somehow, it felt as if her promotion test depended on my next move.

Verita said, "In any case, congratulations on becoming a B-class hero. You have achieved your goal!"

"I haven't received the results yet."

"Since you defeated an A-class hero, there is no way you won't be promoted to B-class," she countered. "Ah, right. Speaking of which, have you decided which clan to join?"

"Of course—" I shut my mouth and glared at Verita, who was looking at me with bright eyes. "Why are you asking that?"

"Some clans have very strict entry conditions. In addition, very few top clans will accept two members at the same time," she explained.

"Two people?"

"Yes."

Her too?

As that realization settled in, a loud voice interrupted, "Big news!"

I turned my head slightly and saw a boy dressed as a postman, his hat pulled low. "If you recruit the Golden Fairy, you will also get the Crimson Mace! This, this! Won't this turn into a huge recruitment war?"

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Ah. I'm sorry... Are you the Golden Fairy, Luan Badniker?" the boy asked.

"Yes."

The boy, who had greatly reduced my impression of him with a few words, suddenly thrust something toward me. "Take this!"

I looked at it and saw a thick bundle of letters. "What is this?"

"They are recruitment letters from various clans, Golden Fairy!" the boy replied.

I raised a brow. "So many?"

"Yes! It is the first time I've collected so many proposals at once as a news source!" the boy said vigorously.

"Recruitment proposals, huh?" I accepted the bundle and flipped through them.

Among them, one letter stood out with overwhelming presence. A black rose seal rested on purple stationery.

It came.