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There were guidelines called “monster rank” that corresponded to our adventurer ranks.
For example, the monster rank of an average goblin was H rank.
This meant that the monster was two ranks lower than the average F-rank adventurer.
Similar to human rankings, the ability ratings doubled with each increase in rank, meaning that two monsters of a certain rank had the same threat level as a single monster of one rank higher. The actual strength could be said to be four times higher, but here, for convenience, the doubling meant the strength of two bodies compared to one.
Based on this system, one F-rank adventurer could fight on equal ground with four regular goblins. Obviously these were pretty large generalizations, but they worked as a tentative estimation method.
However, this meant that an F-rank adventurer would actually be fighting alone against four goblins as they were rated equally. Trading blows with an opponent of equal caliber meant a fifty-fifty chance of defeat.
Legitimate adventurers would make sure to give themselves some sort of buffer, or leeway, to reduce the risk of dying. It could be said that the quest-ranking system already took such margins of error into account.
For example, a goblin elimination quest. Goblins were often composed of groups of about two dozen strong. Based on the aforementioned rating system, this would have been a poor matchup for a team of four F-rank adventurers.
However, adventurers would rarely take on an entire tribe in a single battle. Since it was assumed that adventurers would make use of divide-and-conquer tactics, it was expected that an F-rank party could feasibly handle such a quest, even in the face of unexpected occurrences.
Generally, It was good to leave a little room for errors by having two to four times the strength of the opposing side. If there was a party of four F-ranks, it would be appropriate to take on four to eight goblins at a time.
Of course, such a room for error was great when one could afford it, but those with the ability to do so would often opt for higher rank, and thus, more rewarding, quests instead.
Personally, I felt that having such a large room for error could actually hinder a team. According to one of my favorite book authors, who had survived as an adventurer for about thirty years before retiring at the age of forty-six, People would die twice as often from small mistakes, bad luck, or accidents than from genuinely being outmatched.
Then again, his book on adventuring wasn’t very popular. It seemed that the public enjoyed heavily adapted, bloody, adrenaline-filled adventure stories over his cautious style of adventuring. I was more interested in the unembellished reality, so I disagreed with the opinions of the public, but that was irrelevant.
In any case, the differences in strength between adventurers and monsters were usually considered with such a room for error in mind.
This was where the Goblin Lord became problematic.
Goblin Lords were E-rank threats. A minimum of two F-ranks was needed to challenge such an opponent. If one considered the aforementioned room for error, that number rose to four.
However, that only applied to normal F-ranks such as recent dropouts from the Witchcraft Institute and other adventurers of equal skill. That label didn’t apply to me.
There was also Satsuki. If Cyril’s words were believable, then she too was a force to be reckoned with that exceeded the level of ordinary F-rank adventurers.
As Satsuki walked down the path to the final room, I approached from behind and whispered into her ear.
“Satsuki, I want to ask you something.”
“W-William? What is it? Why are you getting so close?”
“We’re nearing the final destination. We mustn’t make too much noise.”
I could tell she had misunderstood something from the blush on her face. I was strangely happy about that.
“Right, sorry. So what is it?”
“Can Satsuki think she can fight one-on-one with the Goblin Lord?”
For the time being, it was best to just ask directly.
An individual’s personal evaluation of themselves was an important piece of information, even if it wasn’t always accurate.
But Satsuki’s response was simply:
“I don’t know. Never tried it. I don’t even know what makes Goblin Lords so different from other goblins.”
I understood what she was saying.
If you didn’t know what a Goblin Lord was in the first place, it wouldn’t be something you would ever consider.
“Then I’ll change the question. Can Satsuki fight eight goblins alone and win?”
That was a very crude estimate based on the idea that eight F-rank Goblins and an E-rank Goblin Lord were considered equivalent.
The various issues with such an estimate made it more of a guideline.
“What? Eight goblins? Alone?”
Satsuki placed her hand on her chin and looked upwards in an exaggeration of deep thought.
“Easy win. No contest.”
Satsuki affirmed her words with a smile.
I couldn’t see a sliver of doubt.
A completely natural, confident response.
A change in schedule was in order. Knowing exactly how powerful she was would be a valuable piece of information if I planned to continue adventuring with this party. It would be a bit of a risk, but well worth the benefits.
“Satsuki, you said you wanted an opportunity to uphold your honor.”
“Ah! I feel like I’ve said something like that before.”
“Then I’ll leave the Goblin Lord to you in our upcoming battle. Show me what Satsuki can do.”
When I said that, Satsuki stopped and looked at me with a stunned face.
“… Wait, William.”
“What is it?”
“You mean you’re just going to sit around while I fight the boss?”
Satsuki looked offended, so I quickly cleared things up for her.
“Well, I was planning on handling the boss’ minions for you.”
“Oh, right! Hahaha!”
Satsuki laughed in response.
Translator and Editor Notes:
Have fun reading. ~ Mctavish
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