Rise of the F-Rank Hero-Chapter 162: Return

There was no grand parade this time. No confetti, no cheering crowds lining the streets of the commercial district.

The portal deposited them at the secure military transfer point just outside the palace gates. The sun was setting, casting long, mournful shadows across the cobblestones.

The group that returned was significantly smaller than the one that had left.

The supply train was light—not because they lacked supplies, but because the men who used to carry them were dead. The gaps in the Knight’s formation were like missing teeth.

"We part ways here," Oliver said, stopping at the intersection that led to the Guest Palace.

Daniel nodded. He looked exhausted. The glory of the gold in his bag was weighed down by the reality of the report he had to give.

"We have to head to the Throne Room," Daniel said, his voice gravelly. "The Emperor will want a full debriefing immediately."

Amy lingered, clutching Oliver’s sleeve. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to burrow into Oliver’s side and sleep for a week.

"I have to go with them," Amy whispered, looking miserable. "As the Saintess, my testimony is needed for... for what happened with William."

"Go," Oliver said, gently prying her fingers loose and squeezing her hand. "Handle the politics. I’ll be waiting."

Amy bit her lip, nodded, and reluctantly fell back in line with the somber Heroes.

"Come on, Master," Isolde groaned, stretching her arms until her joints popped. "I smell like goblin piss, mildew, and wet dog. If I don’t soak in a tub of boiling rose water in the next ten minutes, I’m going to start killing people again."

Oliver chuckled. "Lead the way, Princess."

While the Heroes marched toward the heavy administrative burden of the main palace, Oliver and Isolde slipped away toward the quiet luxury of the Guest Palace.

****

The Royal Court

Two hours later. The Grand Throne Room.

The atmosphere was electric, a stark contrast to the grim mood of the returning party.

Emperor Valerius sat on his gilded throne, his eyes wide, greed practically leaking from his pores.

In the center of the hall, the Knights had emptied the "supply sacks."

It was a mountain.

Gold coins cascaded onto the red carpet. Ancient chalices rolled around. Spellbooks with leather covers emanating mana lay in stacks.

"Magnificent..." The Emperor breathed, leaning forward. "Truly magnificent! To think the Archmage’s hidden vault was real!"

The nobles in the court whispered frantically, eyeing the artifacts like vultures. To them, this was a fortune that could bolster the Empire’s military for a decade.

They had no idea this was the equivalent of Oliver’s pocket change.

"Sir Daniel," The Emperor boomed, tearing his eyes away from the gold. "You have done the Empire a great service. You have conquered the unconquerable!"

Daniel took a knee. He didn’t look proud.

"We secured the legacy, Your Majesty. But the cost was high."

"Casualties are to be expected in war," The Emperor waved his hand dismissively. "You shall be rewarded."

He turned to the Chamberlain.

"Promote Captain Gerrick to Commander of the Royal Guard. Grant the surviving Knights titles of nobility and land in the western provinces. And for the Heroes..."

He gestured to the gold.

"A bounty of 100,000 gold coins each. And access to the Royal Armory for upgrades."

It was a staggering reward. Enough to live like kings. Jason, despite his missing (and reattached) hand, looked satisfied.

But then, the Emperor’s gaze sharpened. He counted the heads.

"Where is the Spear Hero? Where is Sir William?"

The room went silent.

Daniel swallowed hard. He exchanged a glance with Amy.

"Sir William..." Daniel started, choosing his words carefully. "Betrayed the expedition."

Gasps erupted from the gallery.

"Betrayal?" The Emperor’s face darkened. "Explain."

"On the 32nd Floor, inside the Boss Room," Daniel reported, his voice steady. "William used a forbidden item. A Corruption Stone. He mutated the Guardian into a Calamity Class monster in an attempt to... eliminate a party member due to a personal vendetta."

"He caused the death of four Royal Knights," Gerrick added, his voice dripping with suppressed rage. "And the near-fatal injury of Sir Jason."

The Emperor slammed his fist on the armrest. "A Hero using Dark Artifacts? This is heresy!"

"He was stripped of his rank and gear," Daniel continued. "And exiled into the dungeon."

"Is he dead?" The Emperor asked bluntly.

Daniel paused.

In the past, they would have said yes. They would have assumed no one could survive without gear on the 32nd floor.

But Oliver’s face flashed in Daniel’s mind. The "F-Rank" who fell into the abyss and came back stronger.

"We cannot confirm his death, Your Majesty," Daniel said. "No body was found. We must assume he is Missing in Action. However..."

Daniel looked up, his eyes hard.

"If he survived, he is no longer a Hero. He is a criminal."

The Emperor nodded slowly.

"Very well. Strike his name from the Hall of Heroes. Issue a wanted order. Dead or alive."

The court scribes scribbled furiously.

While the politicians debated the fallout, the real winner of the expedition was currently sitting in a marble bathtub across the palace grounds, sipping wine and reading a very questionable book.

****

The Guest Palace

"Ahhhhhh..."

Isolde sank into the massive tub, the hot water turning her pale skin a rosy pink. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and steam.

"This," she sighed, resting her head on the rim, "is civilization."

In the adjacent room, Oliver was lounging on a velvet sofa, also freshly bathed and wearing a silk robe provided by the servants.

He had Seraphine (in brooch form) scanning the room for listening devices.

"Room secure," Seraphine’s voice whispered in his ear.

"Good."

Oliver took a sip of chilled fruit wine. He held up his hand, admiring the dark ring on his finger.

He pushed a tiny bit of mana into it.

Flash.

The list of contents scrolled through his mind.

[S-Rank Skill Book: Void Step] [Ancient Grimoire: Chronomancy Basics] [Elixir of Titan’s Blood (x3)] [The Archmage’s Personal Journal]

And, tucked away in the corner of the subspace:

[White Lace Panties (Crotchless)]

Oliver smirked.

The Emperor had the gold. The Heroes had the glory.

But Oliver? Oliver had the keys to become a god.

"Ariana!" Oliver called out.

The door opened, and the timid, bespectacled girl walked in, looking relieved to see him.

"Y-Yes, Oliver?"

"Order a late dinner," Oliver said, closing his eyes comfortably. "Meat. Lots of it. And tell the kitchen to send up some desserts."

He patted the empty spot on the sofa next to him.

"And bring a notebook. I found some... ’literature’ in the dungeon I think you might want to transcribe."

Ariana tilted her head. "Literature?"

"Oh yes," Oliver grinned, thinking of the tentacle book. "Very educational stuff. It’s going to be a bestseller."