Measuring a Cloud by People Standards

I am but a cloud, trying to be a person.

And apparently, I’m already doing an adventurer’s job.

Lisa pushed up her invisible glasses as she explained the history behind the Adventurer’s Guild. Apparently, it was originally called the Dungeon Suppression Bureau, responsible for eliminating dungeon beasts to prevent stampedes and other catastrophes, like the one that happened back in that other city, whatever it was called. After the moon shattered, there wasn’t a reproducible method to determine the conditions for a dungeon to spawn, so it became mandatory for every town to have a Bureau office. This turned the newly created department into a money pit, making it non-sustainable in the long run. As such, they ended up rebranding to the Adventurer’s Guild, allowing other people to submit jobs as official quests or commissions. It seemed to be a massive success, given the large number of people currently hanging around.

As for the quests, they could be literally anything. Defeating beasts, exploring territories, escorting people – as long as there was nothing against the law. Responsibilities of the city guard were typically excluded unless specifically requested.

Based on the examples Lisa gave, it sounded like my everyday life. I had been floating from place to place doing an adventurer’s work, and I could’ve been paid for it too! Given how pivotal money was to these people…

“Can I get paid for quests I’ve already done? Like if I explored a region before?” I asked.

Lisa thought about it for a moment before averting her eyes slightly. “It’s not impossible per se, but unless there’s a posting, you won’t get paid. Even if there is one for exploring a new region, unless you are a well-known cartographer, it’s very unlikely for the client to agree to your appointment. You’re much better off selling your knowledge to brokers or someone who wants it, but that’s on you to organize. Judging by your interest, can I assume you want to be an adventurer?”

“Well, you say this is the easiest way to get money quickly, especially for people with none whatsoever,” I responded. If it didn’t require more than my usual skills, I could easily make it work, especially when constrained within this body. Though, there was nothing dangerous here to harm me anyway.

Lisa gave a brief nod as she took a piece of paper from her desk, quickly filling it out. Then, she flipped it around and slid it over. “I have filled out everything Kryos has told me so far. Please fill in the rest.”

I looked at the paper and pen, then blinked. “Umm…”

Lisa let out another sigh. “You can’t read either?”

“Not at all.”

Kryos snatched the pen out of my hand. “I’ll fill it out for you then, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Okay… name, Melora Remuno. Race?”

“Hmm… weasel.” I had no idea whether that was true or not, but I remembered this woman's laugh sounding annoying. If I recall correctly, weasels made those terrible noises too.

“Age?” Good question. People tended to live for a completely random number of years. However, I did hear you became an adult at fifteen, so I just needed to pick a bigger number: no math required.

“Twelve.”

“Umm… do you know how long that would be in your race’s years? I don’t know how the years scale for your race.”

“Nope.” How was I supposed to know that? Making things up was difficult.

“Well, let’s just say fifteen then. This is only for measuring your risk factor anyway.” Lisa then reached under, lifting up what looked to be a rectangular box. On the top were seven drawer-like extrusions. The front was dressed with a paper-like material, sort of similar to a drum’s. “All that’s left to do is measure your skills.”

“You mean water magic, swordsmanship, and the like?” I asked.

“Exactly. You simply need to touch the reader and use your mana as normal for your skill. The panels on the top will rise until it matches your general level: the first panel for general users or F-ranks as adventurers call them, the second for Apprentice or E-rank, and so on until the last panel for Master or S-rank. If you have enough skill to challenge the God for the given skill, all panels will rise.

“Let me show you.” Lisa put her hand on the reader and chanted a spell. “[Waterball].” The thin line of mana used to create the phenomenon was sucked into the box. As it was absorbed, the mana seemed to trace some sort of path within each panel, as though passing through some kind of mesh. Then, once it reached the fifth panel, the mana seemed to stall, unable to seep into the panel, causing the resulting pressure to push it up.

“As you can see, this shows I’m an Expert, or B-rank, water magic user. You can repeat this process for however many skills you want.”

“I see,” I responded, taking a deeper look into the mechanism. This tool was almost as scary as that chair – creating such a precise system seemed impossible to me. Still, if my suspicions were correct…

I laid my hand against the side of the panel, pretending to chant a spell. It wasn’t necessary, but I figured saying something would seem less weird when it inevitably failed. “[Waterball].”

My mana flew through the passageways, easily cycling through the reader before being forcibly expelled out the sides. As I technically relied on the mana in the environment, I had more than enough to easily surpass the reader. Visually, on the other hand?

Well, nothing happened.

Effectively, the meshes allowed mana from the environment to pass through unobstructed. Since I used that mana, it did pretty much nothing. Technically, there were slight differences, but it was at such a negligible scale that it was impossible to detect normally.

“Um… would you like to try another skill?” Lisa asked, posing the question in an awkward tone.

“[Wind slash].” Once again, nothing happened.

Kryos looked on in surprise. “That’s not possible… I’ve seen you use magic before…”

“Now that’s impossible,” Lisa definitively stated.

“Melora…”

I held up a finger with a sigh, making a ball of water appear right above the tip. With a quick swirl to show my control, I then dispelled it. Lisa was stunned.

“H-how did you do that?” she managed to stutter out.

“The same way either of you do?” If you ignore the different mana sources, of course.

“Are the tolerances too high? But they’re on the lowest setting…” Lisa muttered to herself for a bit.

“So… can I still become an adventurer?”

Lisa returned my gaze with a strained smile. “Well… unfortunately, this is a government-run operation, so we do need to handle some liability procedures since we can’t accurately measure your skill. I can send a request to the capital, but it will take about a month to process the paperwork. You’ll need to find another job until then.”

“I see…” Not sure how they couldn’t assess my skills, but whatever. People were people.

“Well, it’s getting late, so let’s find you a place to–”

Growl. We both glanced at Kryos, who blushed bashfully. “W-what?”

“Or we can grab something to eat first,” Lisa sighed, walking towards another section of the guild.