48 Arrogant Young Masters Need To Be Taught A Lesson (1/2)

Lars' made sure that the door behind him was jammed, pushing some drawers and cabinets against the door so the trap could not sneakily follow behind him. Then he breathed in deeply several times in an attempt to compose himself before steadying his gaze and heading down the corridor.

He kept his eyes open for the right room and went past a couple of doors before he saw one a passage with a staircase heading down with the correct label above it: ”Ability Testing Area”.

He made his way carefully down the moderately-lit zig-zag staircase, feeling like he descended about 30 metres below the ground. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation; the guild had to be really big and rich to have such an immense compound both in terms of height, width, breadth and even underground depth!

It did make sense, though - oftentimes high-levelled applicants or experienced questers would need a large enough area for taking tests or even just practising their skills. It would make sense for the guild to provide either a free training area as a benefit to members, or else to charge a fee for the use of their facilities.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he saw a large pair of double doors which were slightly ajar. Inside, he could see a well-lit and immense training area complete with training dummies, a respectably large 30 metre in radius sparring ring and various other equipment.

Lars felt curious; despite the apparently poor diplomatic relations between the Kingdom of the Sands and the Beastman Tribes to the North, the guild staff so far were entirely made up of beastmen! Perhaps it was due to the preference of the local guild head here...

When he pushed open the double doors, he saw some other people were already training; punching or kicking the training dummies and using the equipment under the watchful eye of a few stern-looking beastmen, presumably questers or quester-applicants being tested by guild personnel.

”Yes...? Are you here for as an applicant or to upgrade your ranking? I'm Natiro, by the way.” A scholarly looking middle-aged elf sat behind a counter by the entrance, the first non-beastman that Lars saw working here. Based on his appearance and the voluminous shelves behind the elf, he looked to be the officer in charge of registration and administrative duties at the testing area.

Lars passed the forms over to the elf for him to read through.

After glancing through the contents in less than 10 seconds, Natiro said, ”Wait a moment; I'll get a staff member to test you. Please stay put; non-members are not allowed to use any equipment except under the supervision of a staff member.” Then the elf stood up and walked away to one of the watching instructors and spoke to him briefly. The instructor looked to be a quarter; that is, the child of a half beastman and a full human. From his outward appearances and large stature, he was most likely a quarter bearman.

The elf walked back with the accompanying instructor who introduced himself as Beryl. His fierce gaze warned Lars not to laugh or make fun of his name that was ”bear”-y fitting for a bearman. At the same time, the bearman fixed a derisive and derogatory look on Lars out of the corners of his eyes, as if saying, ”Who do you think you are to try for Silver-rank??”.

”Follow me, I'll be doing your test personally.” The quarter beastman walked in front and headed to one of the unoccupied sparring rings. At the sound of those words, the many sounds of the trainees all around grew hushed; some of them stopped whatever they were doing and began to gather round, whispering to one another.

”Psst... Beryl's at it again...”

”What?? When are they going to stop him? He's been thrashing all the new applicants for years now!”

”Yeah, ever since his wife left him he--”

”Shhh, he'll hear us!” One trainee hushed his friend - just in time, for Beryl sent a murderous gaze over, shooting daggers with his eyes as he looked for who had just touched on his sore point.

”Who is that kid? Some rich young master?”

”Dunno, never seen him before... But he must be some foreign rich young master to be so arrogant...”

”Beryl doesn't care anyway! Haha!”

”Did you hear? The little wimp asked for Silver-grade directly!”

”What?? Who does he think he is? A legendary hero in disguise?” These words drew loud guffaws from the crowds and all those standing nearby.

”Hahahah! Come on! Show us a miracle - if you can!” Hysterical laughter followed each line of words that came shooting out quickly one after another.

But the legendary mage just shrugged. Sticks and stones could break his bones, but words would never hurt him!

Later, the speaker would regret his foolish words - he had no idea just how right he was, and how big of a miracle they were about to see.

Very quickly, the young mage Lars and the quarter bearman were both standing in a 30 metre-radius sparring circle. By now, more than three-quarters of the people present were standing outside the circle, eager to see another wannabe-hero get some senses knocked into him.

The aggressive bearman instructor then cracked his knuckles and beckoned for Lars to start. The young mage who was now disguised as an Adept-level Magic Swordsman blinked twice, then asked, ”With or without my sword?”

The beastman smiled mockingly and answered, ”It won't make a difference. Come, I'll suppress my strength down to the peak of Bronze-rank, or equivalent to the Adept-level. And if you can beat me, you'll get your Silver-rank badge, haha!” The laugh demonstrated the quarter bearman's thoughts about the teenager's chances - it was impossible!

And those words triggered a fresh round of harsh laughter and insults.

”Ehehhehe! Try your best not to piss in your pants, hero boy! If you do, don't worry! I'll buy them from you - here, I have a skirt you can wear instead!”

”Ooh ooh, save me hero boy, I'm stuck in a tree...!”

”My hero! My hero! I'm a damsel in distress needing your kiss!” The disgusting mockers made smooching sounds as they made fun of him.

Lars once more ignored the words of the fools around him; then his eyes widened at the cocky words from the Master-level instructor. They did make sense though, the beastman did have the right to be confident against a mere Adept-level applicant who was trying out for a Silver-rank. His derisive expression and speech were also suited, as it was over-reaching oneself for an Adept-level to try for a rank above his own capabilities...

And he *was* nearly 2.8 metres tall, hulking more than triple the testee's mass...

At least it would have made sense if the applicant were not Lars.

Shrugging, the young man unhooked his weapon from his belt, then hefted his sword without removing it from its scabbard. This time it was the guild staff's turn to raise his brows - but he just huffed in disappointment.

Then he shot forward at a blinding speed, drawing roars of admiration and cheers from the crowd.