Dual Realm Exchange System

Ronan Calder was having a wonderful morning.

At least, he assumed it was morning.

The distinction had become somewhat difficult to determine after his sixth mug of ale the previous night, and by the time sunlight began leaking through the tavern windows, the broad-shouldered warrior had collapsed face-first across a wooden table with one arm hanging uselessly toward the floor.

An empty bottle remained trapped beneath his other hand while several more surrounded his boots.

Ronan possessed the sort of appearance that might once have caused women to give him a second or third glance when passing by. His body remained tall and powerfully built despite years of neglect, while shaggy black hair fell around a weathered face covered by rough stubble.

Unfortunately, the dried drool near his mouth and overpowering smell of alcohol destroyed most of the effect.

The tavern keeper had stopped attempting to wake him an hour ago, but someone else was considerably less patient.

SLAP!

Ronan’s head snapped sideways as a hand struck his cheek hard enough to almost knock him from the chair.

"Gah?!"

He jerked upright, one hand instinctively reaching toward the pair of longswords resting against the table before his blurry vision finally focused upon the woman standing over him.

Stella stared back with open irritation.

At first glance, very little about the young Half-Tiefling suggested that she should have been capable of nearly slapping Ronan out of his chair.

Stella possessed a soft, almost deceptively gentle appearance.

Her smooth red skin carried only the faintest creamy undertone from her non-Tiefling ancestry, while long silver-white hair framed a youthful face with full cheeks, soft lips and large wine-red eyes.

Two short black horns curved backward through her hair, accompanied by a thin dark tail that currently lashed behind her with obvious annoyance.

Her figure only deepened the contradiction as she was tall by most female standards across various humanoid species, but instead of the sharply defined physique one might expect from an experienced warrior, Stella possessed a soft, voluptuous build with broad hips, thick thighs and a generous chest beneath her dark armor.

Then, there was the sword strapped across her back, and the damned thing looked large enough to qualify as construction equipment.

Its blade was almost as tall as Stella herself and broad enough that an ordinary soldier might have struggled to lift it from the ground with both hands, yet she carried it as casually as another woman might carry an umbrella.

"We have an interview this morning, and the Nobles Council attendant has already sent someone looking for you twice," Stella reminded him coldly.

Ronan blinked several times before rubbing his abused cheek. "You could have shaken me."

"I did."

"Oh? What did I say?"

"You told me to fuck off."

"That sounds like me."

Stella’s expression remained entirely unchanged.

Ronan sighed before searching the table until he found a half-filled cup, only for Stella to snatch it away before he could drink.

"No more of this wastewater!"

"You’re cruel."

"You smell like a brewery caught fire."

"That means I’m properly seasoned."

Stella grabbed him by the back of his coat, and though Ronan was considerably heavier than she was, that fact proved irrelevant.

The tavern keeper watched with professional indifference as the soft-looking Half-Tiefling dragged the red-haired warrior toward the entrance like a mother removing a troublesome child from a festival.

......

By the time the pair reached the Rosewood Town Nobles Council, Ronan had become marginally more presentable.

He had washed his face at a public fountain, chewed something Stella claimed would reduce the smell of alcohol and tied his hair behind his head.

His faded red traveling coat remained wrinkled, his boots looked abused, and his overall appearance still suggested that sleeping beneath bridges was an entirely normal part of his lifestyle.

To the contrary, Stella looked immaculate beside him, with pitch black tight fitting studded leather armor covering her body.

The waiting hall inside the Rosewood Town Nobles Council was far more crowded than either expected.

Nearly three dozen applicants occupied the available chairs and benches, while several more stood along the walls.

Unlike the desperate Commoners who often entered the retainer registry hoping some noble household would rescue them from poverty, almost everyone summoned today possessed a Standard Class.

There were armored Fighters, Rangers carrying bows, several Rogues, a Cleric, two Mages and even a heavily scarred Warden seated near the far wall.

The atmosphere carried an unmistakable tension.

Everyone was trying not to stare at everyone else while simultaneously calculating the competition.

Ronan looked around lazily.

"...Huh."

Stella ignored him.

Ronan leaned closer. "Who’s the bigshot everyone seems so wet for?"

Several nearby applicants turned toward him.

Stella’s eyes closed for a moment as though praying for patience.

"You could attempt speaking like a civilized person for one morning."

"I could, but then nobody would recognize me."

Stella exhaled through her nose before answering.

"The noble conducting the interviews is Baron Damian Baines, a newly recognized Baron of Magic."

Ronan’s bored expression did not change.

Stella continued. "He is an Otherworlder who appeared in Moonveil Forest slightly more than a week ago. At the time he was reportedly without a proper Standard Class. He awakened as a Mage shortly afterward."

"Good for him."

"He is currently Level 6."

Ronan’s eyes shifted toward her.

Stella noticed. "He is a Journeyman Mage at Level 6, achieved in roughly one week. He also became involved in the recent Moonveil Forest investigation and helped uncover the organized Dark Goblin presence inside Blackroot Den before the village attacks occurred."

The surrounding applicants had begun listening despite pretending otherwise, as Stella had clearly done her research.

"He has already received formal Baron of Magic recognition through the Mage Association, registered a General Mercantile Permit through the Trade and Commerce Guild, rented a major commercial property on Central Lane three buildings from the Caurelian Continental Bank, and personally took the survivors from Otter Village beneath his noble household after participating in the cleanup."

Ronan’s posture slowly straightened.

Stella continued with the same cool tone.

"Rumors also connect him closely to the Four Valkyries of Grayfen, Guildmaster Roland Hammond and Master Mage Selene Vael. The Magic Shop researcher Ophelia Linus is apparently familiar with him as well. The verified facts are already absurd enough that I stopped investigating the rumors."

Ronan stared at her speechlessly. "All that in a week?"

"A little more than a week."

"And he’s Level 6?"

"Yes."

Ronan finally looked toward the closed interview doors, and the careless amusement in his eyes faded.

A person could get lucky once, or perhaps twice, and an Otherworlder appearing then immediately qualifying as a Mage was fortune.

But reaching Level 6 in mere days was something else.

Discovering an organized monster settlement while still a Copper Adventurer could be called coincidence if one was feeling particularly charitable.

But then becoming a Baron of Magic, establishing commercial interests and beginning a noble household during the same period pushed the matter beyond coincidence entirely.

Either Damian Baines had been born beneath the luckiest star in Valoria, or something terrifying was hiding beneath the public story.

Ronan dragged one sleeve across his mouth, checked his breath, then used both hands to push his unruly hair backward.

Stella gave him a sideways glance.

"So you do know how to behave."

"Don’t spread it around. I’d like to get this one." Ronan adjusted his coat with unusual seriousness.

Stella studied him for several seconds before facing forward again.

Privately, she felt exactly the same.

......

"Stella."

Her name was eventually called, and Stella rose immediately.

Ronan lifted two fingers in a lazy salute, though the sharpness remaining in his eyes betrayed his earlier act.

Stella entered the consultation chamber, and the first thing she noticed was Damian.

The second thing was that the rumors had somehow made him sound less dangerous.

The young Human seated behind the desk did not look particularly intimidating.

He had a mop of brown hair, a standard Journeyman Mage robe and a calm, placid expression.

There was no towering physique, monstrous scars or visible aura announcing that everyone nearby should kneel.

Yet Stella had spent much of her life around warriors stronger than herself, and some instincts had been carved too deeply to ignore.

Damian felt... dense.

There was a strange solidity to his presence that did not match a Mage who had supposedly only reached Journeyman days earlier.

His mana sensitivity was extremely clear, but beneath that magical presence existed something else that reminded Stella of standing near warriors whose bodies had been forged through years of relentless physical training.

More unsettling was his spirit.

Stella could not properly measure it, yet Damian’s gaze possessed an unmistakable clarity when it settled upon her, as if he could see through her very soul.

A Nobles Council clerk sat nearby with a registration tablet.

Damian glanced over Stella’s submitted information before beginning.

"Why do you want to become a permanent retainer rather than continue as an independent Fighter?"

"I have already experienced employment where loyalty only existed while it was convenient for the people above me. If I bind myself to another household, I want the obligations to run in both directions," Stella answered calmly.

Damian nodded. "What do you expect from me?"

"Protection under the Baines Noble Family, reasonable resources for advancement, clear orders and the assurance that I won’t be discarded because sacrificing me becomes convenient."

Something changed briefly in Damian’s eyes, a light of interest emerging.

"That seems reasonable. What would make you refuse an order?"

"If the order directly violated the laws governing retainership, demanded deliberate harm against the Baines Noble Family without necessity, or required something I considered dishonorable enough that accepting it would make the oath meaningless."

Damian asked several more questions that included combat experience, preferred duties, whether she could protect civilians, whether she could work alongside races she disliked, and whether she had problems taking instructions from someone younger than herself.

Stella answered each question directly and the interview ended almost disappointingly normally.

As Stella stood, Damian offered a polite nod.

"Thank you. The Nobles Council will announce my selections after the remaining interviews."

Stella left without allowing her expression to change.

Only after the door closed did anxiety settle into her chest.

She found that she really wanted this position, more than she had expected to.

......

Ronan entered twenty minutes later, and right away, the Nobles Council clerk smelled him before he reached the chair.

Her face scrunched up in disgust, but Ronan did not care.

Damian noticed the disheveled state of this fellow too, and unlike the Nobles Council clerk, he looked amused.

Ronan dropped into the chair opposite him and spent several seconds openly examining the young Baron.

Damian actually folded his arms and waited for Ronan to have his fill, which interested the veteran.

Most nobles Ronan had encountered considered silence a challenge to their authority and rushed to fill it while this one simply waited to see what he would do.

Ronan scratched his beard. "So you’re the Otherworlder who reached Journeyman in a week?"

The Nobles Council clerk stiffened.

Damian raised one eyebrow. "More or less."

"And you found the Gobbies at Blackroot Den?"

"With four other Adventurers, yes."

"You’ve got a snazzy shop on Central Lane, eh?"

"That’s right, and it will be opening later today."

Ronan’s mouth twitched. "What do you actually want retainers for?"

The Nobles Council clerk finally snapped. "Applicant, Baron Baines is conducting this interview, not you!"

Ronan did not even look at her.

Damian lifted one hand.

"It’s fine for now. I want people I can trust with responsibilities that ordinary employees shouldn’t handle, including business, combat, household security, and eventually larger operations if things develop well."

"You planning to become a lord with a castle and ten thousand servants?"

"A castle? Why not. Ten thousand servants though, is not something I can put on my list of desires."

Ronan laughed for the first time, then leaned forward. "What happens when somebody serving you tells you you’re wrong?"

Damian folded his arms. "I’ll try to listen, then decide whether they have a point."

"And if they’re right?" Ronan pressed with a sharp glance.

"I may change the decision to reflect that." Damian responded casually.

"And if you think they’re wrong?" Ronan asked with pursed lips.

"Then, they will follow the order I give regardless of how they feel." Damian stated bluntly with a knowing smile.

Ronan nodded slowly, feeling that this was reasonable compared to what other nobles would state.

Ronan then sighed and nodded with visible satisfaction. "Fine then, you’ve impressed me enough, so here are my terms."

The Nobles Council clerk stared at the fellow as though he had lost his mind.

Ronan began counting on his fingers. "First, a permanent and non-negotiable salary of one Gold per month. Then, I want high quality food and lodging provided by the Baines Noble Family as well as all weapon repairs paid whenever damage occurs during your work. Also, I get to keep my personal property, I don’t wear ceremonial uniforms unless the occasion actually matters, and I don’t kneel every time you enter a room."

The Nobles Council clerk’s mouth opened in speechless shock.

Ronan continued before she recovered.

"On top of that, I get twenty percent of personal mission rewards when you specifically send me somewhere outside ordinary household duties. I can and will drink when I’m off duty, so nobody touches my alcohol without permission, and if you ever acquire something rare enough to improve an Adept’s progression, I get the right to negotiate for it before you sell it elsewhere."

"Are you insane?!" the Nobles Council clerk erupted.

Ronan ignored her completely. "One more thing. If an order is obviously going to kill people under the Baines Noble Family for no meaningful gain, I reserve the right to challenge it to your face before carrying it out."

Damian stared at the fellow deeply, and Ronan fearlessly stared back.

The silence lasted several uncomfortable seconds before Damian reached for the registration tablet.

"I think I’d like to see exactly what makes you believe you’re worth that much."

Ronan smiled confidently.

Damian opened the first registration record he had bookmarked earlier.

Stella’s Character Sheet appeared.

[Name: Stella.]

[Race: Half-Tiefling.]

[Overall Level: 9.]

[Main Class: Fighter — Level 9.]

[Subclass: None.]

[Class Stage: Standard (Journeyman).]

[Experience: 18/90 EXP.]

[Attributes: STR: 16, DEX: 10, AGI: 13, CON: 12, INT: 5, WIS: 5, SPI: 5.]

[Feats: Double Strike, Athlete, Great Weapon Master, Savage Attacker.]

[Skills: Cleave, Guard Break, Crushing Blow, Charging Strike.]

[Specializations: Greatsword Mastery (Adept), Athletics (Adept), Heavy Armor Mastery (Journeyman), Battlefield Awareness (Journeyman), Pain Tolerance (Adept).]

[Titles: None.]

Damian had already considered Stella impressive.

Then he opened Ronan’s registration.

[Name: Ronan Calder.]

[Race: Human.]

[Overall Level: 13.]

[Main Class: Fighter — Level 12.]

[Subclass: Rogue — Level 1]

[Class Stage: Standard (Adept).]

[Experience: 71/130 EXP.]

[Attributes: STR: 15, DEX: 18, AGI: 21, CON: 14, INT: 6, WIS: 6, SPI: 8.]

[Feats: Double Strike, Skilled, Mobile, Martial Adept, Dual Wielder, Boon of Speed.]

[Skills: Riposte, Disarming Strike, Feint, Evasive Step, Quick Draw, Whirlwind Cut.]

[Specializations: Dual Longsword Mastery (Master), Athletics (Adept), Acrobatics (Adept), Stealth (Adept), Survival (Adept), Tracking (Adept), Battlefield Awareness (Adept), Lockpicking (Journeyman), Trapmaking (Journeyman), Investigation (Journeyman).]

[Titles: None.]

Damian’s amusement disappeared and the Nobles Council clerk leaned toward the tablet, her angry expression collapsing into terror.

An Adept!

Ronan’s Character Sheet looked less like the record of an aging drunkard and more like someone had taken two experienced Adventurers, combined their best qualities and then drowned the result in alcohol.

His Agility was monstrous and his Dexterity was nearly as alarming.

A Master-level Dual Longsword Mastery combined with an entire collection of Adept Specializations suggested decades of experience across scouting, survival, infiltration and direct combat.

Even Damian, whose standards had been rapidly warped by his own progression, understood exactly what he was looking at.

This man could probably dismantle Damian in close combat before Damian properly understood that the fight had begun.

Yet one question immediately became more important than everything else.

Why?

Why would a Level 13 Adept Fighter with a Rogue Subclass and this breadth of expertise permanently become somebody’s retainer?

Someone like Ronan should have possessed options.

Damian slowly lowered the tablet as Ronan’s lazy expression returned, and neither man mentioned the obvious.

There was a story buried here, that Damian could tell.

He simply did not know whether it was a tragedy, a crime or something worse.

"Your terms are ridiculous," Damian eventually remarked.

"I know."

"I’ll consider them."

Ronan’s eyebrows rose.

The Nobles Council clerk looked even more shocked.

Damian gestured toward the door. "You’ll receive my decision with everyone else."

Ronan stood, and for the first time since entering, his smile contained genuine interest.

"Fair enough."

......

The interviews continued for nearly another hour, featuring plenty more Fighters, a Ranger, a former household steward, and even a young Mage whose previous noble family had collapsed beneath debt.

Several applicants impressed Damian while others eliminated themselves within minutes.

Eventually, the final candidate left the room, signaling the end of interviews.

Harold later entered the waiting hall carrying Damian’s completed selection list in hand.

Stella sat perfectly upright while Ronan leaned against the wall beside her, arms folded beneath his chest.

Neither spoke as names began being called.

The first person, the second, and then the third....

Stella remained still as the fourth and fifth persons were called next.

Ronan’s expression did not change, but the heel of one boot stopped tapping against the floor when the sixth name was called.

Stella had a cold feeling in her heart when the seventh person was called and it was still neither of them.

She had known there were only nine vacancies from the start given her investigation into Damian.

Why hadn’t she been called yet?

Could it be that Damian had disliked her answers?

Or perhaps her Half-Tiefling blood had mattered after all?

It could also be that someone with greater potential had entered after her, but she severely doubted that.

The eighth name would soon be called, and after that, only one vacancy would remain.

Ronan slowly unfolded his arms while Stella stared straight ahead, unwilling to look toward him.

Harold checked the final portion of the list.

"Stella."

Her breath escaped before she could stop it and she stood immediately.

Then Harold looked back down.

"And finally... Ronan Calder."

The entire waiting hall went quiet for a fraction of a second.

Ronan blinked in surprise, and Stella turned toward him with disbelief.

Finally, the veteran warrior slowly grinned and pushed himself away from the wall.

Harold gathered the successful applicants with a professional smile.

"Baron Baines requests that those selected return to the consultation chamber. Your preliminary acceptance does not yet complete retainership, as individual terms, responsibilities and final household allocations must still be agreed upon before registration beneath the Baines Noble Family."

Stella followed the others toward the doors and Ronan walked beside her, smelling considerably less like alcohol than he had that morning.

Neither knew exactly what they had just stepped into.

But for the first time in a long while, both found themselves genuinely curious to discover where the road led from here!

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