Through contacts in the information guild—a network of spies, informants, and brokers who traded secrets like currency—I learned that the playable characters from Savior of Life have finally been born into various noble families across the kingdom.
The protagonist. The heroines. All of them existed now, living their privileged lives in huge manor houses and estates.
I didn't think much of it.
After all, the protagonist was destined to abandon this world eventually. The story ended with him finding a way back to Earth, leaving behind everything he built and leaving every heroine that was crazy mad in love with him. Why should I care about someone who'd eventually disappear?
In the beginning, I had spent countless hours pondering how I—someone of low birth, with no connections or resources—could somehow infiltrate Starcrest Academy and leech off the story's benefits.
But time has a way of changing people.
The long years blurred those obsessive thoughts, wearing them down like stones under river. I settled into this world. I adapted. I found a rhythm.
I made a few friends—real friends—who I could share drinks with during rare moments of bad times, swapping stories and complaints about the adventuring life.
Sometimes, when I was mentally exhausted from constant fighting and searching, I even dreamed of starting a normal family. A quiet life. A small house somewhere safe. Children who wouldn't have to grow up the way I did.
It was a nice dream.
-
It was a first in the history of the Adventurer's Guild.
Even Urus—the legendary adventurer called the strongest in the world—operated with a full party of elite companions. The idea of reaching the guild's highest rank solo was considered impossible.
And yet, I did it. Well, thanks to the multiple elixirs i have found over the years doing guild work that increased my prowess.
I became the first solo adventurer to reach Platinum rank with all limbs still attached.
Platinum was technically the end of the line according to guild regulations. Beyond that, there were no official classifications, though everyone knew there were further divisions in skill among Platinum-ranked adventurers. Informal hierarchies. Reputations built on impossible feats.
But still. The fact remained: I was a Platinum.
And I got there with several factors working against me.
Young age—mid-twenties. A relatively short career—only ten years. Reaching Platinum solo on top of that.
Each aspect was unprecedented. Combined, they made me something of a legend.
Which I hated, honestly. Fame attracted attention, and attention attracted problems.
"Hoo—I'm gonna die," I muttered as I stepped through the gates of the capital after a month-long commission in the wilderness.
The familiar sights and sounds of civilization washed over me like a balm. The smell of cooked food instead of blood and monster corpses. The sound of merchants hawking wares instead of creatures screaming as I killed them.
I made my way to the tavern located beneath the Adventurer's Guild—my usual place to rest whenever I returned from a job. It was habit at this point. On days when a commission ended, I'd fill my belly here rather than going straight to my apartment.
My home was too lonely, too quiet. And the sun have not even set yet, so even if I went back, I'd just have to come out again for dinner anyway.
Might as well stay here.
"Ryan! You didn't die this time either!" a booming voice called out as I settled into my usual seat. "You've got a real tenacious life, kekeke!"
I glanced up to see Lark—a massive bear of a man with a beard that could house a family of birds—grinning at me like an idiot.
"Aish—don't ruin my appetite. Get lost, dude," I said flatly, though there was no real enmity in my words.
Ignoring my dismissal entirely, Lark dropped his considerable bulk into the seat across from me, making the chair creak in protest.
Following behind him was one of his party members—a woman who seemed to glow with an inner radiance that had nothing to do with magic. Lilline carried herself with elegance and poise, a stark contrast to the dreary, middle-aged man she adventured with.
"Hello Ryan!" she said brightly, her smile genuine and warm.
"Lilline. It's been a while. Have a seat."
She gave a graceful nod and settled into the empty chair at our table, folding her hands primly in her lap.
Even after years of adventuring, even covered in road dust and wearing practical armor, she still carried herself an aura of nobility. Some things were just encoded deep into the bone, I suppose.
"It's always like this," Lark grumbled, "but isn't the treatment way too different between us?"
"If you don't like it, turn into a beauty and come back," I shot back without missing a beat.
"Hehe—Ryan, you haven't changed a bit," Lilline laughed softly, covering her mouth with one hand.
We fell into easy conversation—the kind of trivial banter that required no deep thought or emotional investment. Talk about recent commissions, complaints about guild bureaucracy, gossip about other adventurers.
My mind settled into a comfortable calm.
This was what I looked forward to whenever I returned from a job. These simple moments of connection, sitting with people who understood the life, sharing space and food and meaningless words.
It was one of the few genuine joys in my current existence.
"The next commission is not decided yet?" I asked after a lull in the conversation, genuinely surprised.
Lark's party was rarely seen idle at the guild. They had considerable renown and a reputation for constant activity. Realistically, they had the potential to aim for higher ranks if they gained more experience and kept pushing themselves.
They understood this about themselves and ran relentlessly because of it, taking barely any time to rest between jobs.
It was the first time I have ever seen them without a commission already lined up.
"Actually, it's because of me…" Lilline said softly, her usual brightness dimming slightly.
That immediately caught my attention. Lilline had a personality that extremely disliked causing inconvenience to others. She was the type to shoulder burdens silently rather than ask for accommodation.
"Did you get hurt somewhere?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice despite my best efforts to sound casual.
"No! It's nothing like that!" she said quickly, waving her hands. "Actually, it's because my youngest sibling got accepted into the academy, and I… I want to see the entrance ceremony."
Ah. That explained it.
Both Lark and I knew about Lilline's background. She was born in a noble family but had cut ties with her parents years ago after some kind of fall out. Despite running away and disowning her family name, she was secretly looking after her youngest sibling from the shadows, sending money and keeping tabs on their well being.
"If that's the case, it can't be helped," I said firmly. "If Lark tries to stop you, I'll beat him up for you. Don't worry."
"You crazy bastard! Would I do that?!" Lark roared indignantly.
"…I can only apologize for being a burden," Lilline said quietly, lowering her head with genuine distress.
Lark's expression softened immediately. "Hey, hey. I'm not actually angry. Take all the time you need, alright? Family's important."
I studied Lilline's face. She usually laughed easily at jokes and banter, but right now she looked genuinely troubled, her shoulders tense with worry.
"Lilline," I said, changing the subject slightly. "What number entrance ceremony is it for the academy this year?"
The question came to me suddenly. I spent so long living in this world, so many years just surviving day to day, that I almost forgot about the original story entirely.
The academy, Starcrest Academy, The main stage where everything in SoL took place.
I became so assimilated to this reality—living in a fantasy world fighting monsters had become perfectly normal to me—that I stopped thinking about the narrative framework underlying everything.
"I heard this is exactly the 100th entrance ceremony," Lilline said, perking up slightly at the topic change. "Because it's such a monumental number, they're making it a public festival event this year. Really big celebration."
"Hmm—it's certainly a milestone. So can outsiders actually attend?"
"Yes! The competition rate for tickets was incredibly high, but my youngest sibling…" Her voice wavered with emotion. "They got in. I'm truly moved."
Watching Lilline's emotions fluctuate so openly was a rare sight. Usually, she maintained careful composure, but right now pride and joy radiated from every word.
I listened as she began boasting about her sibling, filling my belly with food and ale while she gushed about their accomplishments.
So this day has finally come, I thought, chewing slowly.
At first, I wondered obsessively when it would arrive. Then, as years passed, I naturally forgot about it—the starting point of SoL becoming just another piece of trivia buried in my mind.
But now it was here. Happening for real.
About a month remained until the entrance ceremony.
I have to go home and reread all the information I painstakingly noted down years ago. Character profiles. Event timelines. Hidden piece locations that would become accessible once the story began.
And more urgently—I needed to prepare for something else.
The incidents involving the 99th batch of students are just around the corner.
Before the 100th batch entered and the main story began, there would be chaos. Accidents and crises that would set the stage for everything to come.
I took another long drink, feeling the weight of knowledge settle back onto my shoulders.
The quiet life I built for myself was about to get very, very complicated