She was satisfied. Content. Because she knew now that she had won the rematch.
Chapter 13: Bestiary
Even now, it was never as easy as you thought it would be; simply handing over a Chimera’s head was not sufficient enough for one to become a Hunter. Sure, this Monster had been a problem plaguing them for almost a month. But how could they know that I was the one that killed it? They needed proof, and proof was… easy to get.
There were multiple types of evidence that could be brought into the court of law, and I had three of them available to me right now. The first was real evidence— which was the Chimera’s head itself that I had brought into the Hunters Guild. It was real, and it was right there; there was no arguing against such a thing.
The second piece of evidence was testimonial evidence: ranging from the villagers who thanked me, to the guards who saw me leave Locke the night before, I had plenty of witnesses to corroborate my story of what happened. Even the bystanders who saw me drag the decapitated bleeding skull of the Chimera served to further my case that I was the one who killed it.
And finally, the last one, demonstrated evidence, was just a pain in the ass for me. Because I had to convince the Guild Master that I was the one who killed the Chimera; give an explanation as to why I did it without first registering with the Hunters Guild; and tell them why I even wanted to be a Hunter in the first place.
Of course, this was not the court of law, so none of this really mattered; what mattered was what the judge and the jury thought, and unfortunately, this man sitting skeptically across from me played both roles.
"And why can’t you just… remove your mask?" the Guild Master of Locke’s Hunters Guild asked.
"Because of various reasons," I said, opting not to reveal more than that.
The man pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He was an elderly gentleman. If I had to guess, I would say he was about 60 years old, past the age of retirement. Apparently he had been a Hunter once, but that did not mean he had a brash and arrogant personality as a Guild Master. In fact, he was very polite and kept trying to understand things from my perspective; though he still insisted on verifying my identity.
"I know that not every"— he looked me once over— "individual has a way to prove they are who they say they are. Photographic identification has only come a few decades ago, and the Hunters Guild itself has only started the transition, rolling out such changes slowly over time. But surely you should at least have some form of identification. I know that… Goblins… from the Sharan Enclave are all issued certificates at birth. Not that I’m assuming that you’re one, of course."
"Mhm, but not all Goblins are from there, are they?"
"Of course not. And neither am I assuming that you’re a Goblin. Just…" the Guild Master trailed off. He took a sip from the cup of black liquid.
It was coffee. Dark, bitter, coffee. Not to my tastes, so I had a glass of water— although I did not drink from it because of my mask.
"The Hunters Guild just needs proof that you’re not some sort of criminal, Miss. Like, say, a piece of paper from the temple you were born in?"
"I was not born in a temple," I said simply.
"Hm, of course. So are you from a small village then? A farm of some sorts?" he asked, uncertainly scratching his gray beard. "Or— no… but maybe…"
"What is it?" I titled my head to the side, as the man leaned back, folding his arms.
"Miss… could you possibly be from the Free Lands? Our country has been accepting some refugees, and it used to be a completely open border until we were overwhelmed, but that would explain your predicament."
I nodded slowly, not really sure where he was going with this or what he meant. "And so what if I am?"
"Well, if you’re really a refugee, or even just from the Free Lands, the Hunters Guild has special circumstances regarding it. You see, the Free Cities are considered to be— and I do apologize if you take offense at this— backwards. As you know, they do partake in slavery, and some regions even condoned child intercourse— although the latter does apply to the Puer Kingdom as well— but because of these reasons, and the various conflicts they tend to have with their neighbors, trade with them is… limited."
"They don’t get much mana tools, right?" I asked to confirm.
"Indeed. When the Mana Revolution first began, they did get access to such tools and weapons without a problem since they did play their part in sending troops for the Final Holy war. But once it was over, the Holy Xan Empire and other countries halted the exports of all such items to them, for it was believed slavery was a violation of the Holy Law to never inflict great suffering upon others. Their military stayed strong since they were attacked so often, but in regards to the standard of living… well, they are lagging behind rather significantly if I had to say so myself."
And that meant photo identifications were not a thing, and identity documents themselves were not so pervasive. I was not sure if the Guild Master genuinely believed I was some sort of refugee, or if he was simply throwing me a bone here, but I took my chance.
"...I did come from the Free Lands. As a refugee, from the eastern border of Laxis," I
