Witch Taming System-Chapter 18: Adventurer’s Guild

Meanwhile, Lancel once again found himself wandering through the streets of the Witch City, Riviere.

Perhaps it was because he had spent so long in captivity, rarely allowed to step outside. Now that he could walk freely through the city again, even the simplest breeze against his face felt refreshing.

Freedom.

The feeling alone was almost intoxicating.

This time, however, Lancel avoided the more crowded areas. Running into Ishtar again was the last thing he wanted right now. After what happened the other day, dealing with her was not something he was prepared for.

So instead, he made his way toward the lower districts of Riviere.

Unlike the upper sections of the city, these streets were filled mostly with visitors. Non-natives gathered here in large numbers. Merchants, travelers, adventurers, and families looking for a better life all passed through these districts.

There were several reasons Riviere had become such a popular destination.

For one thing, women were treated remarkably well here. Witch or not, the city had long maintained a reputation for respecting women far more than most places.

In some cases, that reputation alone was enough to change entire families’ lives. If a wife begged her husband to move to Riviere and threatened divorce along with custody of the children, what exactly could the man do about it?

Raise a hand against her?

That would only destroy whatever family remained.

For adventurers, the appeal was even simpler.

Riviere was a hub for potion trade. Bulk supplies could be purchased here at prices far lower than anywhere else in the world.

Most travelers didn’t stay permanently, treating the city as more of a stop along the road, but even so, it remained a comfortable place to rest and unwind.

And then there was the red-light district.

In that regard, Riviere had a reputation unlike any other city.

Witches might have been bitches. But they were very attractive bitches.

And when bored witches decided to indulge themselves, a particularly fortunate, or unfortunate, soul might suddenly find himself sharing their bed.

But that wasn’t what Lancel had come here for.

His destination was the Adventurer’s Guild.

The Adventurer’s Guild maintained branches all across the world, dealing with threats that ordinary people either couldn’t handle or simply didn’t want to deal with.

In many regions, it was practically a requirement for every settlement to have a guild branch nearby.

Riviere, of course, was a special case.

No one in their right mind would attempt to enforce regulations on a city ruled by witches. Negotiating with them was a nightmare most governments preferred to avoid.

Even so, a guild branch still existed in Riviere.

Not because anyone had the authority to demand it. But because the witches themselves had allowed it.

For reasons that were, in typical witch fashion, rather simple.

They thought it might’ve been funny.

"Excuse me," Lancel said as he approached the counter. "Is there any work available?"

The receptionist looked up from the ledger in front of her.

"Work? Before that, you’ll need an official license. We can’t assign requests unless you’re registered as a guild member."

She was a woman, but clearly not a witch. That alone felt strangely refreshing to Lancel. It had been a long time since he had spoken to someone who wasn’t one.

"Ah," Lancel said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I actually lost my card. But my registration should still be in your archives. The name’s Lancel. I’ve been registered with the guild for about five years now."

"Five years?" she repeated, glancing up at him again. "And you lost your license?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Give me a moment."

She turned her chair and began searching through a stack of records behind the counter, flipping through several files before pulling one free.

"Lancel... Registered five years ago... adventurer class A... last recorded activity—"

Her voice suddenly stopped. The receptionist slowly looked up at him again.

"...You’ve been missing for almost a year."

Lancel shrugged. "Yeah. I was busy."

The receptionist narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized him. There was clearly some kind of misunderstanding forming in her mind.

A male adventurer disappearing for nearly a year, only to suddenly show up again in Riviere of all places.

If someone looked at the situation objectively, there was only one conclusion most people would reach.

The adventurer had likely retired from the road and ended up becoming a witch’s plaything, drowning somewhere in a life of indulgence and pleasure.

It wasn’t exactly a rare story in this city.

Lancel could almost see that conclusion forming in her head.

He had no intention of correcting her, though.

Frankly, letting her believe that version of events was far easier than explaining the truth.

After another moment, the receptionist finally sighed and turned back to the records.

"...Just sign here to renew your license," she said, sliding a form across the counter.

Lancel glanced down at the paper. It was a standard guild renewal sheet, the kind every adventurer had to fill out whenever their identification card was lost or damaged.

He picked up the pen without much hesitation and signed his name.

Lancel.

The receptionist pulled the document back and scanned it for a moment before stamping it with the guild seal.

"Alright," she said. "Your license will be reissued shortly. Since your registration is still valid, we’ll just update your status."

"Status?"

"You’ve been inactive for almost a year," she replied. "That usually means one of three things. Retirement, death, or voluntary withdrawal."

She looked up at him again.

"You’re lucky you showed up before the system marked you as deceased."

Lancel scratched his cheek. "...Yeah. That would’ve been inconvenient."

The receptionist ignored that and reached beneath the counter, pulling out a small metal plate before sliding it toward him.

"Temporary identification," she said. "Your new card will be issued in a few days."

Lancel picked up the plate and turned it over in his hand.

"So, about that work?"

The receptionist gestured toward the large board mounted behind him.

"Quests are posted there," she said. "Anything marked green is open to solo adventurers. Though considering you’ve been gone for almost a year, you might want to start with something simple. The fatality rate for adventurers keeps increasing every year. I’d hate to see you lose your life over something trivial."

Lancel followed her gaze and turned toward the quest board.

Sheets of paper were pinned across it in dense rows. Different colored markings ran along the edges of the postings. Some were stamped with red seals, others blue or yellow, but the green ones were clearly the least dangerous.

At least, relatively speaking.

"Hmm..."

Slime extermination.

Herb gathering.

Monster subjugation in nearby forests.

Nothing too exciting.

"Do people actually die doing these?" he asked.

The receptionist gave him a flat look.

"More often than you’d think. Most adventurers think the same thing when they start. That the work is easy."

Her finger tapped the counter once.

"Then they get careless."

Lancel looked back at the board again. "Alright."

"Just don’t overestimate yourself. The guild doesn’t issue refunds to corpses."