Chapter 527: The One Called Siberia

"And your full name is Eric Anthos?" I continued, the name catching my attention. "Only wealthy, noble, or royal folks use those kinds of names in this world. And Anthos..."

I let the name roll around in my mind, turning it over like a stone in a river, watching the way the syllables fit together. "Are you from Amaranthyst?"

The moment I asked, Eric’s eyes widened and he flinched hard—a full-body recoil like I’d just struck him across the face.

Why? Was that a curse word or something?

"H... How could you tell?" He asked me, his voice barely above a whisper.

Well, your long ears sold you out first, I thought to myself, glancing at the elegant points that peeked through his pale green hair.

And the only elves I knew were from that place.

But that seems a bit too casual, no?

"Actually, amaranth means ’immortal flower,’ yes?" I began explaining in a roundabout way, letting the words flow slowly and deliberately. "The Amaranth flower is known for never wilting. It’s a symbol of eternity, of something that persists beyond the normal span of existence. And anthos means flower—it’s sorta derived from the same root. You’re an elf. If you possess a surname and use it proudly like this, then you might be a noble. And possibly a noble from Amaranthyst, the empire of the Immortal Elves."

"..." Eric’s face was stunned silent, pale and shocked, nearly trembling from the logic I just put out for him.

His mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish gasping for air on dry land, and I could see him struggling to process what I’d just said—to find a flaw in my reasoning, a loophole he could exploit to deflect the question.

But there was none.

"Benjamin, you never... fail to amaze me," he finally managed, his voice hoarse and strained. "Most of what you said was true, but I am not exactly a noble, only something close. I’m not going to bore you with the details of my lineage. But yes, I am a daughter of Amaranthyst."

He said the last words with a mixture of pride and shame, like someone admitting to a crime they’d committed decades ago and still hadn’t fully processed.

But hold up...

"Huh...? Daughter?" I tilted my head in confusion.

Had I misheard him? Was my Elyndorian translation acting up?

"Ah, sorry, I meant son of Amaranthyst," he corrected with a wave, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson that spread from his face down to his neck and even to the tips of his ears. "Folks have always mistaken me for a woman since I was little, and my mother made me wear dresses for a long time. So I simply slip up and identify as female, embarrassingly. It’s a habit I’ve never quite been able to break, no matter how many decades pass."

"Ah, I get what you mean!" I nodded in recognition, a wave of sympathy washing over me. "I’m also frequently mistaken to be a woman, it’s a bit exhausting to correct people of that, right? The assumptions and apologies, the way people look at you like you’re lying about your own identity—it gets old really fast."

"Hahaha! Surely you jest, Benjamin!" Eric had a hearty laugh, like I just told him the most funny joke he had ever heard, his earlier tension dissolving into real amusement. "If YOU are not a woman, then all women are goblins!"

Eh...?

H-H-Hold on, what did he mean by that?

I don’t understand; does he think I’m lying?

"Oh? Yuki is higher than Eric over here!" Heka pointed out, her voice cutting through my confusion like a sharpened blade, and I turned to see the banner she was gesturing toward.

Yuki: Garden class adventure.

Ranked 6/700 in Thaad.

Ranked 30/700 in Wilds.

Ranked 52/700 in the world.

Yikes.

I knew that Ice witch was more powerful than she lets on.

But this was something else entirely. This placed her in the top 10 of the entire city, the top 30 of the region, and the top 60 of the entire known world.

She’s absolutely awesome! A force of nature wrapped in a pretty package, capable of reshaping the battlefield with a gesture and walking away unscathed.

Well, save for her physical abilities, which were not so much above what a human can muster—she’d never been much of a brawler, preferring to keep her distance and let her magic do the work—her magic prowess was deadly and terrifying.

She didn’t have enough penetration power, else she could’ve killed that Mature dragon on her own—her spells could freeze, trap, and immobilize, but they lacked the raw destructive force needed to pierce the thick scales and magical defenses of a creature that ancient and powerful.

"Yes, Yuki has been more than a blessing to our party," Eric solemnly interjected, his tone shifting from amusement to something more serious and respectful. "She’s saved us more times than I can count. And if she didn’t care more about support but about attack and offense, she would have ranked even higher. She could easily be a top-tier combat mage if she wanted to, but she prefers to protect rather than destroy."

"Yeah, that is true. And she’s cute too," I gave my own useless feedback, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood that I immediately regretted.

Sadly, the comment hung in the air, and neither Eric nor Heka seemed to take it as anything other than the idle observation it was.

"But Eric... who is this Siberia person?" I asked, my gaze drifting to a different name on the banner—one that had caught my attention for its sheer placement. "And they are always one number ahead of Kapil, the orange-haired man who always sticks with the emo girl."

"Emo girl...?" Eric raised a brow, glancing at Aladdin—I mean, Kapil—at the far end of the large hall, where he was engaged in what looked like an animated conversation with the dark-haired, perpetually brooding young woman. "Are you referring to the petite girl who carries that absurdly heavy and large sword?"

"Is she the one called Siberia?" I nodded and asked, my curiosity piqued by the name.

It had a cold, distant quality to it, like the frozen wastes of the northern continent.

I could imagine her standing on a glacier, her sword held high, the wind whipping through her dark hair as she faced down a horde of monsters with an expression of complete indifference.

"She is." Eric replied, glancing back at the ranking banners with a look of something that might have been admiration—I couldn’t quite tell.

Siberia: Tree class adventurer.

Ranked 2/700 in Thaad.

Ranked 4/700 in Wilds.

Ranked 20/700 in the world.

I stared at the numbers, letting them sink in.

This girl was a beast.

Not just strong or skilled, but one of the absolute best in the entire world.

Top 20 strongest adventurer in the entire world of Elyndor.

And she was here, in this very guild hall, sipping a drink and planning to sharpen her sword on some monster’s bone later in.