The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

The strength of public authority and the prosperity of the adventurer industry have an inverse relationship.

If a country is functioning properly and soldiers can maintain public order efficiently, then the profession of adventurers would not have much opportunity to shine in the first place.

Dangerous monsters are regularly exterminated by the military, and criminals who disrupt order are dealt with by the city guards. As a result, there’s hardly any real need for adventurers.

No, it’s not just that they aren’t needed—they’re actually a hindrance.

After all, they are an armed group that is difficult, or sometimes even impossible, for the nation to control. Instead, they act according to their own rules and regulations, operating freely within the territory.

In that sense, the Kingdom of Birka was an ideal place for adventurers to thrive.

In other words, it was a complete mess of a nation where the royal family failed to do its job properly.

The king and the court nobles were steeped in indulgence, hoarding wealth without properly governing the country. Most of the regional lords were no different, with only a few exceptions.

Stability over progress.

Conservatism over reform.

Rather than striving to compete with others, testing their abilities and ambitions, they simply banded together and colluded amongst themselves.

Gaps in law enforcement became the norm, and to fill those gaps, the adventurer profession and the guild system flourished.

Minstrels sang of it as "The Land of Adventurers."

Dreamers hoping for instant riches and grand reputations poured in, not just from within the country but from abroad as well, knocking on the doors of the adventurers' guild. Unfortunately for the guild, a large number of those applicants were nothing but useless trash.

“What? Sewer rat extermination? Hey, do you think I came all the way here just to kill some damn rats? Give me a proper request!”

The type to whine about wanting a high-paying, prestigious commission despite having no accomplishments to back it up.

“Hey! The reward was supposed to be two silver coins! Why the hell am I only getting five coppers?! Because I got drunk and broke a village boy’s leg? No, that was his fault for acting cocky!”

The thug who, after receiving a penalty for causing trouble, throws a fit instead of reflecting on his actions.

“Listen up! I happen to be on brotherly terms with the heir of Baron Genster! If you know what’s good for you—”

The braggart who boasts about being close to some noble and expects special treatment.

“Pfft! You think you can talk down to me just because I’m being nice? Who do you think you’re messing with?! Huh? Let go! I said, let go! Agh! Aaagh!”

The fool who doesn’t know his place, spits on the guild floor, and makes empty threats—only to be beaten to a pulp by the guild guards.

Every day brought fresh new headaches. The more one encountered these trashy individuals, the more their disgust for humanity grew.

The stress levels of the guild receptionists soared to new heights, with many of them beginning to view adventurers as no better than criminals.

And honestly, they weren’t entirely wrong—many adventurers were either former criminals or criminals-in-waiting.

The receptionists, the face of the adventurers' guild—flowers blooming in a barren, violent industry—had to endure their fair share of hardships.

“...So, you’re telling me I have to work as a receptionist now?”

But no matter how bad things were, this just felt wrong.

Blanca, a mid-rank adventurer in her third year, stared at the woman before her with an expression that openly displayed her disbelief.

She figured her reaction was more than enough to convey her dissatisfaction, but the administrative officer overseeing the eastern branch’s receptionists continued speaking without the slightest change in expression.

“That’s right. Not a day more, not a day less—just for one month. By then, Belona, who collapsed from overwork, should be recovered and back on duty.”

“...Why not just hire a new receptionist? Why are you dragging me into this?”

“Five.”

“Huh?”

“Five people. That’s how many have quit after getting fed up with the damn adventurers.”

With a long, tired sigh, the administrative officer took a deep drag from her pipe before exhaling.

“Adventurers tend to look down on receptionists, who just sit at their desks doing paperwork. But do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone who’s literate, can communicate properly, has enough credibility not to tarnish the guild’s name, and at the same time isn’t intimidated by those reckless bastards? They’re damn rare.”

“I am one of those adventurers, you know.”

“Which is exactly why you’re perfect for the job. Unlike the last few receptionists who quit, you won’t be scared off by them. Plus, you can read and write, your speech is more refined than most of those ill-mannered adventurers, and you’ve got a decent face. You’re practically made for this role.”

With a light tap, the administrative officer knocked the ashes from her pipe into the tray.

“Besides, Blanca, I doubt things have been going well for you lately. Your favorite staff broke, so you need to buy a new one, and you still have debts to pay back to the guild. We’ve been lenient with you because of your track record, but even that has its limits.”

“Urgh.”

Blanca swallowed hard.

At first glance, the officer’s words might have sounded like we’ve been looking out for you, but the timing made it clear what she was actually saying.

Refuse, and that leniency ends here. We’ll start collecting your debt the same way we do with the others.

In the end, it was never really a choice.

With a long, defeated sigh, Blanca relented.

“...Fine. Just for a month, right?”

“That’s right, that’s right. The pay won’t be bad, either.”

—At least, not compared to what you’re making now.

Though she hadn’t said it aloud, Blanca could practically hear the unspoken words.

And that alone was enough to make her scowl.

***

Blanca found the whole situation deeply unpleasant, but as the administrator had said, she had a knack for working as a receptionist.

“Yes. This is being returned. We can’t accept it, so you’ll have to gather them again.”

“What!? I brought ten roots of Clearbright Herb just like the request asked!”

“This one here is broken in the middle, this one has all its branches torn off, and this one is completely dried out. I told you not to yank them out by force but to dig them up along with the surrounding soil, didn’t I?”

“I never heard that!”

“If that’s what you believe, then sure. For you, maybe. Regardless, five out of ten are defective, so we can’t accept them. Come back when you have the full number.”

“I wasted an entire day gathering these, and now you expect me to go back and do the same thing for another half a day? Just give me half the reward at least!”

“This isn’t a shop, and we don’t negotiate. Leave before I call the guild guards. Besides, you didn’t just collect roots, did you? You must have gathered other things too, so it’s not like you’re leaving empty-handed.”

“...Tsk.”

Adventurer ranks ranged from the lowest, Rank 1, to the highest, Rank 7. Blanca had steadily climbed her way from the bottom to Rank 3, making her a veteran.

Considering that over half of all those who registered as adventurers never even reached Rank 2 before vanishing, it was a position of considerable weight.

She had firsthand experience with how adventurers acted, the tricks they pulled on commissions, what they hated, and what they could tolerate. It was knowledge that purely academic ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) receptionists could never match.

She wasn’t easily intimidated by threats or insults, and if it came down to it, she had the strength to handle troublemakers without calling the guild guards.

The administrator was thoroughly satisfied with her performance, and even the other receptionists subtly hinted that they wouldn’t mind if she stayed on permanently.

Every week, as the weight of coins in her pocket grew heavier, Blanca found herself with complicated feelings.

Her earnings weren’t higher than what she made at her peak as a Rank 3 adventurer.

However, unlike the unstable income of an adventurer, being a receptionist provided financial stability. Given that she had lost key equipment and was in debt due to a certain incident, that stability was painfully reassuring.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Staying on as a receptionist might not be a bad idea.

No, it would probably be the wise choice.

Adventurers didn’t gain much from years of experience besides aging. Meanwhile, as a guild employee, she could rise through the ranks over time.

The very administrator who hired her was proof of that.

Even knowing all this, Blanca couldn’t bring herself to make a decision.

Her rational mind told her to accept reality, but the deep-seated goal buried in her heart refused to let go.

“Hmm...”

Then, one day.

It happened exactly ten days before her temporary contract was set to end.

A certain young man caught Blanca’s eye.

He looked to be in his late teens.

With messy red hair, he curiously glanced around the guild with bright, shining eyes.

It was the unmistakable look of a hopeful adventurer.

Snickers rose from various corners of the guild.

Some found him cute, while others found him laughable.

Seemingly unaware of the surrounding reactions, the red-haired youth confidently approached the reception desk—where Blanca was stationed—and spoke.

“I want to become an adventurer. What do I need to do?”

“Hm.”

Blanca gave him another once-over.

Simple yet practical leather armor. A plain, unadorned iron sword.

Considering that the cheapest available gear consisted of layered cloth armor and a roughly carved wooden club, his equipment wasn’t too bad.

It meant he hadn’t come to the guild as a desperate last resort but had made some preparations beforehand.

On top of that, he had a rather refined face...

...A noble’s third son? Or maybe the child of a wealthy merchant family?

After making a quick mental estimate, Blanca asked,

“To register as an adventurer, you need to pay five copper coins. Do you have them?”

The young man wordlessly took out the coins and placed them on the desk.

Blanca picked up a pen and paper.

Most adventurers couldn’t read or write, so receptionists handled the paperwork for them.

“What’s your name?”

“Bern.”

“Place of origin?”

“A village in the southern borderlands of the Eizern Empire.”

“Does the village have a name?”

“There was no specific name used within the village. I’m not sure what others called it.”

It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unheard of either.

Many adventurers gave false places of origin anyway, so the guild didn’t bother verifying too closely.

“What’s your specialty?”

“I can handle a sword.”

“Hunting experience?”

“I caught a rabbit on my way here. Does that count?”

Laughter erupted from the back of the guild hall.

“Oh, a rabbit! A truly fearsome beast! After being turned into stew, it can put even the mightiest warrior into a deep slumber!”

“Be nice. It’s better than those guys who brag about slaying wolves only to piss themselves and flee when they actually see one.”

“That’s true! Honesty is a virtue!”

Despite the teasing, Bern didn’t seem offended.

He simply observed them with an intrigued look, as if he had found something curious.

Blanca sighed.

“Don’t pay them any mind. If you react to every little thing, you won’t last long as an adventurer.”

“Oh, no. Actually, I find it quite amusing.”

“......?”

Blanca found his response oddly peculiar, but she didn’t dwell on it.

“You are now registered as a Rank 1 adventurer. You can officially take guild commissions, and once you’ve built up enough achievements, you’ll be promoted to Rank 2. At that point, you’ll receive an official adventurer’s badge. Any questions?”

“What commissions are available right now?”

“Sewer cleaning, weeding, and warehouse cargo sorting. Pick one.”

Even as she spoke, Blanca felt a sense of resignation.

This was the moment when most new adventurers complained the loudest.

Dirty, tiring, unglamorous work. And the rewards were miserably low.

New adventurers, inspired by grand tales spun by traveling minstrels, often struggled to accept the reality of their first assignments.

Especially those with even a shred of pride in their abilities.

Blanca was already thinking about how to handle his inevitable complaints when—

“I’ll start with warehouse sorting.”

“...Huh?”

“Warehouse sorting.”

“Oh, uh... Right. Head outside the guild, go straight west until you see a building with gray walls. There’s a man there with a burn scar on his cheek. Just do whatever he tells you. And don’t forget to bring back the completion token.”

“Understood.”

With that, Bern casually strolled out of the guild.

The onlookers, who had been expecting a spirited argument, groaned in disappointment at the lack of drama.

They muttered about how this new recruit had no fire in him before quickly moving on to other topics, waiting for more interesting commissions to be posted.

Blanca, feeling something strange about the whole interaction, simply shrugged it off.

At the very least, it was easier for her if the newcomer followed instructions without issue.

About thirty minutes later.

“Excuse me.”

“Hm? What, did you give up already?”

“No, I finished. Here’s the token.”

“?????”

Blanca’s mind went blank as Bern handed over the proof of completion.

The task usually took a minimum of two hours—sometimes even six if the workload was high.

Yet this guy had wrapped it up in just thirty minutes?

What the hell?