Iron rank. Something told him that this was the lowest rank in the system.
Yamamoto stared at the badge, feeling slightly underwhelmed. He kind of expected some kind of main character treatment… of course that was over expecting, considering his skills.
"What's the point of the ranking if everyone starts at Iron?" he couldn't help but ask.
The clerk gave him a patient smile. "Not everyone starts at Iron. Exceptional individuals can begin at Bronze or even Silver rank based on their assessment performance. But most people start at Iron and work their way up through completed quests and demonstrated capability."
So he was average. Or at least, not exceptional enough to skip the bottom rung.
Then again, this was actually fair enough.
"What are the other ranks?" He asked, just to take note.
"Starting from the lowest, Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Mthril, and lastly, Adamantite."
He was about to ask further questions, when a commotion caught his attention. People had quickly began crowding, and curious, he moved closer to take a look.
A young man was taking his capability assessment—someone who'd apparently come in after Yamamoto's group. He looked to be in his early twenties, with striking blue hair and features that were almost ethereal in their handsomeness. Not quite as handsome as Yamamoto's current appearance, but close.
The young man was demolishing testing dummies with casual efficiency.
Fourth dummy—shattered with a single strike.
Fifth dummy—destroyed.
Sixth dummy—obliterated.
Seventh, eighth, ninth—each one fell to precise, powerful strikes that seemed almost effortless.
When he finally stopped at the tenth dummy—unable to break through despite three attempts—the crowd erupted in excited whispers.
"Nine dummies!"
"At what level?"
"Someone said he's only level 10!"
"The Azure Blade technique—did you see it? That's high-tier swordsmanship!"
Even Yamamoto had to admit he was impressed. Nine dummies was significantly better than his six. The technique the blue-haired youth had displayed was refined, efficient, clearly the product of serious training.
'Real talent, huh?' Yamamoto thought to himself. 'That's someone who's actually skilled, not just exploiting game knowledge like another person.'
He didn't want to think deep and start comparing himself with others, that was a fruitless venture.
It was then that a thought came to him…
…
Farther back from the crowd, two men watched the assessment with interest.
The older man was probably around fifty, with gray streaking his hair and a prominent scar across his neck. His eyes were sharp and assessing, the eyes of someone who'd seen countless fighters and knew quality when he saw it.
Beside him stood a younger man, maybe thirty, who carried himself with the confidence of a skilled warrior. He glanced at the older man with deference.
"Master Greaves, that one from earlier—the tall one with the dark hair who broke six dummies. He showed rather good instincts. Should we—"
"No." Greaves's voice was flat and dismissive immediately. "His swordsmanship talent is nothing special. He relied entirely on magic skills to reach six dummies. His actual technique was mediocre at best, even that is too much credit."
The younger man nodded. "But with proper instructions, he—"
"Pay attention, Kelvan." Greaves nodded toward the blue-haired youth, who was receiving congratulations from the examiners. "That, is real talent. Nine dummies, and I counted only two skill activations. The rest was pure technique—proper form, optimal angles, efficient energy transfer. He's been trained by a master, no question."
Kelvan studied the youth more carefully. "He is impressive. Do you want me to—"
"Fish him," Greaves said simply. "Approach after he receives his ranking. Someone with his talent shouldn't be wasted in the general pool."
"Understood, master." Kelvan responded.
Greaves remained where he was, arms crossed, watching the crowd. His eyes passed over Yamamoto once more—the tall swordsman who'd achieved a respectable but unexceptional six dummies—and dismissed him without a second thought.
Plenty of fighters could break six dummies with decent stats and a few basic skills. Such people filled the streets.
Real talent worth cultivating, was rare.
'The blue-haired youth will receive a recruitment offer within the hour, while the tall one will fade into obscurity with thousands of other Iron-rank adventurers. That's just how the world works.' Greaves thought to himself, closing his eyes for a moment, as though recalling of a far memory.
…
Yamamoto collected made his way out of the building, unaware of the assessment he'd just failed in the eyes of observers he'd never noticed.
He wasn't bothered by his ranking. Iron was fine. He'd climb when it was necessary.
What mattered wasn't the badge—it was the opportunities the badge unlocked, and the freedom it brought.
"…perhaps I should find a swordsmanship school and enroll for a while? This is real life after all, that should be possible and very beneficial."