The entire end of the clash was observed by both the cyclops and orc; while Redrum was well aware of his companion’s capabilities, Freja clapped her hands as if witnessing a magnificent performance.
"Now how about that!" The one-eyed warrior called out with a gleeful smile. "You got your ass kicked, good and proper, Ajax!"
There was a heavy exhale that came from the man unconscious just a moment ago before the half-naked dwarf jumped to his feet. There was a reddened complexion and bulging veins on Ajax’s face, though as quickly as he boiled–
"Gah-ha-ha!" The dwarf broke into guttural laughter. "Gomme’ good, indeed, this lad did!"
Noah’s guard was kept high as he watched the laughing man approach, squeezing the handle of his axe before–the hand befell his shoulder, lightly patting it.
"You’re worthy of a Behemoth rank, no less!" Ajax claimed, smiling wide.
"Behemoth?"
The dwarf reached behind his back, rummaging around before pulling out a necklace with a shining, beige insignia etched with the carving of a four-armed creature, "This is your proof as an adventurer–the symbol of your strength and character."
"Oh, thanks," Noah accepted, not quite understanding the separation of rank.
The necklace was put around his neck, though more than triumph, he was starting to feel the aching in his stomach as the adrenaline wore off.
"Hah, got ya good though, didn’t I, lady?" Ajax laughed, lightly tapping his hand against the newcomer’s bruised abdomen.
Noah winced, laughing it off as he walked over to the bruised-and-battered orc, feeling as though he actually got off a tad easier, "All good, Redrum?"
"Yes, I am "all good", Noah," the orc answered, standing himself up with a groan.
As the two took their leave from the torn-up battle room, the looks on the faces of the recruits waiting in the corridor looked as though they’d seen ghosts.
"The hell happened in there, man?" The first in line asked with a gulp.
"If I were any of you, I’d probably take a rest day," Noah recommended, passing by the anxious recruits.
Immediately once stepping into the main hall, it erupted into celebration from the adventurers all around. There was some booze spilled at risen mugs, and maybe some food thrown around, though it all seemed fair game.
As he looked around for the twins, he didn’t need to check very hard as Astrid was already hurrying up to him with a look of sheer relief.
"You’re aliv–you made it!" The elven mage said breathlessly, though her eyes immediately locked onto his purple stomach. "You’re hurt! Hold on..."
"I’m fine–" He attempted to protest, though found himself already taken by the wrist and promptly sat down at one of the tables.
Noah looked around while Astrid focused her comforting mana on his stomach, though found only a shrug from her brother.
Otto laughed, "Don’t try and fight it. If I’ve anything, she won’t let herself rest until everybody around here is in pristine condition."
"Yeah, I’ve noticed."
It didn’t take long before the internal bleeding faded, leaving him good as new. Only a short inhale-and-exhale was taken before Astrid moved her healing to the orc, who quietly accepted.
"So, Redrum got Golem? Can’t say I’m surprised there, though it does kinda hurt. Took us like seven months to move up from Wolf to Golem," Otto said, sitting in the chair beside him. "What about you?"
Noah fixed his shirt before pulling out the insignia hidden beneath, displaying it, "Err, this one–I think it was Behemoth, or something like that."
"Behemoth?!" Otto spat out.
"Wha–?!" Astrid looked over in shock.
Not just from the twins, but others in the hall, it seemed the rank was quite the surprise as even some drinkers spat out their beloved mead.
"I’m guessing that’s good?" Noah remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you serious?! It’s great–you’ve been given special privileges, from the start!" Otto frantically explained, leaning over the table. "Listen, ranks go like this–!"
["Each of the Official Adventurer Ranks represent the level of threat the member is able to handle. The lowest is Wolf, which means you’re expected to be able to handle a wolf in a fight. From there it goes; Wolf, Golem, Wyvern, Dragon, Behemoth, Titan, and Cataclysm
Taking in the explanation, Noah shrugged, "I’m only three ranks higher. What’s the big deal?"
"You seriously don’t get it? After Golem, you start getting privileges!" Otto told him earnestly. "Like, I know for sure once you hit Wyvern, you get special access to equipment crafted by the Guild Foundation–and, err, free arrows, sometimes!"
"Something tells me you have a certain motivation in reaching Wyvern rank," Noah laughed.
"That’s just an example!" Otto quickly changed the subject. "I know when you hit Behemoth, you get access into restricted places...and that includes the World Guild."
"The World Guild?" Noah said, looking down at the insignia dangling from his neck.
"It’s the place to be, I hear."
Chiming in was a figure completely unknown to him; a slender adventurer dressed like a cowboy as if having crashed in from another timeline, wearing black-and-white fabric that matched his hair.
"Err?" Noah looked at the stranger.
"Oh, this is Billy," Otto introduced, glancing over at the cowboy-hat wearing figure. "Met him while you were during your trial–he’s a Titan rank!"
"Titan? Pretty big deal," Noah said halfheartedly.
"Just from years of hard questing," Billy said with a sly tip of his hat, pulling a chair up beside the recruits, kicking his feet onto the table. "Put ’er there."
Noah hesitantly accepted the handshake, glancing between his companions, though Redrum was a bit in the middle of fading in-and-out of consciousness while being healed.
"Billy, the Silver Hand, they call me," the cowboy-esque adventurer said.
"I’m Noah, no special title," he returned the introduction.
From what he could tell, the eccentric adventurer was no older than his late twenties, but he had trouble figuring if the wannabe cowboy was human. While everything else checked out, the peculiar eyes, like silver kaleidoscopes, set him apart.
"So, three Golems and one Behemoth," Billy counted, pointing a finger at each member of the group. "Pardon me for saying this, but bit of a lopsided party, I’d say."
"Well, it’s definitely felt that way, at times," Otto mumbled.