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Reinhard x Tensura [Chapter 4: Subjugation Division!]
🕑 Added 2025-09-21 17:12:12 +0000 UTCThe woman behind the counter wore glasses, her brown hair tied up in a neat bun. She looked up from her paperwork, her expression professional.
"Hello, ma’am," Reinhard said, his voice calm and clear over the din. "I would like to register with the guild."
The receptionist blinked. "Registering with the guild, huh?" she repeated, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took in his pristine white uniform, the expensive-looking fabric, and the elegant sword at his hip. He looked less like a hopeful rookie and more like a noble's son out for a bit of fun. She’d seen his type before; they usually didn't last long.
Reinhard noticed her hesitation. "Is there a problem, ma’am?"
Her professional mask snapped back into place. "Ah, no, sorry. Please wait." She pulled a form from a stack under the counter and slid it towards him. "Please fill this out with your name and your desired division."
He picked up the form and looked at it. Then his polite smile faltered for the first time.
The words were gibberish. A series of strange, flowing symbols he couldn't recognize at all. Of course. A different world, a different language. It was such an obvious problem, and he hadn't even considered it.
Just as a spike of cold panic began to rise in his chest, the mechanical voice sounded in his mind.
«Bestowing Divine Protection: ⟪Blessing of Language⟫.»
There was no flash of light, no surge of power. It was simpler than that. One moment, the characters on the page were alien. The next, they made perfect sense. It wasn't like he had learned to read them; it was as if he had always known how. The knowledge was just… there.
He blinked, the moment of internal crisis passing as quickly as it had come. He picked up the quill sitting on the counter, dipped it in the inkwell, and neatly wrote his name on the indicated line.
He wrote Reinhard van Astrea in the space for his name. When he got to the section for his division, he paused and looked up at the receptionist.
"Hmm, ma’am," he asked. "What exactly are the division options?"
The lady answered in a professional, practiced tone. "There are three. The Exploration Division, for mapping new areas. The Gathering Division, for collecting herbs, ores, and other materials on contract. And the Subjugation Division, which, as the name implies, is for fighting and defeating monsters."
Reinhard didn't hesitate. He filled in the last section, writing "Subjugation" in clear, neat letters.
He handed the form back to her. She scanned it, and her eyebrows rose slightly. "Are you sure about the Subjugation Division?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Reinhard offered her a calm smile. "Thank you for worrying about me, ma'am. I may not look like a strong person, but I'm fairly confident I can survive difficult situations. So yes, I'm sure."
The receptionist was visibly surprised. Most new recruits, especially the young and arrogant ones, would have bristled at being questioned. They’d curse or boast about their strength. But this young man simply smiled and answered with unshakable politeness.
"Oh," she said, a little flustered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere with your choice. I wasn't doubting your strength."
"No worry, ma'am," Reinhard replied smoothly. "As I said, you were just being concerned, and that's all."
The lady's professional smile returned, but it seemed a bit warmer this time. "Well, that's it for the paperwork. All you have to do now is take a practical test in the building next to this one. Once you pass, you'll be an official adventurer and you'll get your card. That card will serve as your ID in almost any nation with a branch of the Freedom Association."
"A practical test?" Reinhard asked.
"You didn't know?" she said, surprised again. "It's required for the Subjugation Division. We have to make sure you're capable, to prevent people from choosing it recklessly and getting themselves killed. The test also determines your starting rank, anywhere from E to A. S-rank is for a special few, but they're very rare."
"Oh, I understand," Reinhard said. "It makes sense. When can I take this test? If possible, I'd like to get it done today."
As if summoned by his words, a rough voice cut in from the side. "A new kid, huh? Choosing the Subjugation Division… seems you think you're pretty tough."
Reinhard turned. Leaning against a support pillar was a man who looked like he’d seen better days. His black hair was uncombed, a short beard covered his jaw, and his clothes were loose and worn. He supported himself with a simple wooden cane, because where his left leg should have been, there was only empty space below the knee.
"The practical exam for the Subjugation Division," the man continued, his voice gravelly, "is both the simplest and the most dangerous one we have."
"And you are, sir?" Reinhard asked politely.
The man pushed himself off the wall and began to hobble towards a back door. "I'm the one who decides your rank. I'm the one who decides if you're strong enough to not get yourself killed on day one." He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you're still planning on choosing this division, follow me."
Reinhard looked from the man to the receptionist, seeking confirmation. She simply gave him a small, reassuring nod.
"Thank you for the help, ma'am," Reinhard said to her, before turning and walking after the one-legged man.
