Of course, there was one tiny problem: I was still F-rank, which meant I had about as much authority to take important quests as a particularly determined houseplant.
***
"Protocol says you can't take that quest," the receptionist informed me when I approached the counter.
"Right. Rules. Because nothing says 'effective problem-solving' like arbitrary bureaucratic barriers." I gestured at my equipment. "I killed a wyvern. With a sword. While it was flying."
"Guild regulations are very clear—"
"Let me guess. Someone somewhere decided that combat ability has nothing to do with quest eligibility, and now we're all slaves to a system that prioritizes paperwork over results."
She blinked slowly, like a computer processing an unexpected input. "Would you like to see our available F-rank missions?"
So instead of investigating mysterious elf water cartels, I got stuck with truly thrilling assignments: an old woman had lost her house key while picking berries in the nearby bushes.
Yes. The mighty wyvern-slayer, reduced to professional lost-and-found services.
I found the key in under an hour, thanks to Sassy, who located it buried under a pile of leaves like a tiny, fire-breathing bloodhound. The reward? A handful of bronze coins and a promotion to E-rank.
Progress, I guess. At this rate, I'd be qualified for actual adventures sometime around my fortieth birthday.
***
Two more days of thrilling E-rank missions later—including "count the chickens" and "deliver this letter to someone three blocks away"—I finally got something resembling real work: goblin extermination in the Thornwood.
The team was... not inspiring. A nervous archer who jumped at shadows, a swordsman with a blade so dull it couldn't cut butter on a warm day, and a mage whose idea of a fireball looked more like a mildly annoyed candle flame.
"So," I said as we walked through the forest, "how long have you all been adventuring?"
"Three weeks," said the archer.
"Two weeks," said the swordsman.
"This is my first quest," admitted the mage.
"Perfect. I'm working with the tutorial squad."
The first goblin we encountered charged out of the undergrowth with a rusty dagger and what I can only describe as misplaced confidence. My teammates immediately went into panic mode—the archer fumbled for an arrow, the swordsman raised his dull blade defensively, and the mage started mumbling what sounded like a spell but might have been a prayer.
Something in me snapped.
If this world wanted me to participate in the forced tutorial progression, fine—but we were way past chapter one. I was not going to stand around watching three grown adults struggle with a single goblin like it was their first time holding weapons.
I charged forward, sword singing through the air. The goblin's eyes widened in what was probably its last moment of genuine surprise before my blade separated its head from its shoulders.
More goblins appeared, drawn by the noise. I didn't wait for my team to get organized. Aura farming time, like every other MC of a webnovel isekai. Sword swinging, occasionally grabbing rocks to throw, I carved through the green-skinned mob like they were made of paper.
" Maniac, but cool" the swordsman muttered, watching me dispatch goblin number eight with what was probably unnecessary enthusiasm.
"Efficient," I corrected, wiping blood off my blade. "There's a difference."
We cleared out the surface goblins and followed their trail deeper into the woods, eventually finding the entrance to their cave system. The moment we stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. The ground trembled slightly with each step, and strange, sticky threads clung to the walls like abandoned spider webs.
Except they weren't abandoned.
"Uh, guys?" said the archer, pointing upward. "Are those...?"
"Webs," I finished. "Very large webs. Suggesting very large spiders."
The mage whimpered.
We pushed deeper into the cave system, following a tunnel that opened into a wide chamber. The smell hit us first—decay, musk, and something sweet and cloying that made my stomach turn.
Then we saw the webs.
They covered the chamber like some kind of macabre art installation, stretching from floor to ceiling in intricate patterns. At the center, suspended in silk like a moth in a trap, was an elf woman. Silver hair, pointed ears, and the kind of ethereal beauty that could probably end wars or start them, depending on her mood.
Great. Harem member number two, right on schedule.
Was she important to the water crisis? Probably. Was she the reason the elves were acting weird? Most likely. Did I care at the moment? Absolutely not—because across the chamber, something far bigger stirred in the shadows.
Eight legs. Fangs the size of small swords. Eyes that reflected our torchlight like rubies. The Spider Queen had noticed our intrusion and was not pleased about it.
I glanced at my "team"—three people who were now pale as fresh snow and shaking like leaves in a hurricane. Even Sassy, perched on my shoulder, seemed more capable of handling this situation.
"Yeah," I said, looking directly at where a reader would theoretically be, "you know what? This is obviously where the chapter should end. Perfect cliffhanger, dramatic tension, mysterious elf damsel—"
The familiar warm glow started building around me, and a system message appeared:
[Hey, apparently the author has to hit a minimum word count per chapter, and this happens to be way under that target, so... (scratches head digitally)... we're going to need you to actually fight the thing. Sorry about the false advertising on that cliffhanger.]
(I know I could have split this chapter to two, but I just wanted to have that line, mhhhmhh, i don't know how to laugh with emoticons).
"Seriously?" I stared at the message. "We can't just cut to black and pick up next time?"
[Nope. Union rules. Gotta earn that paycheck.]
I sighed and drew my sword. "Fine. But I want it on record that this should have been a dramatic chapter break."
***
The Spider Queen emerged from the shadows like a nightmare given form. Twice the size of any spider had a right to be, with armor-like chitin that gleamed black in the torchlight. Her eight red eyes fixed on me with the kind of focused attention usually reserved for prey, and her fangs dripped with venom thick enough to probably eat through stone.
She hissed—a sound that started deep in her throat and vibrated through the entire chamber, rattling loose stones from the ceiling.
"Alright," I muttered, raising my sword. "Boss fight it is."
My teammates had pressed themselves against the cave entrance, which was probably the smartest thing they'd done all day. Sassy hopped down from my shoulder and scurried to join them, chirping what sounded like "Don't die, Papa" in dragon.
The Spider Queen moved with horrifying speed for something her size. One leg stabbed forward like a spear, forcing me to roll sideways as chitin scraped against stone where I'd been standing. Before I could recover, another leg swept horizontally, trying to take out my ankles.
I jumped, landed on her leg, and tried to run up toward her head. She immediately reared back, attempting to shake me off like an annoying flea. I grabbed a strand of web hanging from the ceiling to keep my balance and swung down toward her cluster of eyes.
My sword found its mark, sinking into one of the larger orbs. She shrieked—a sound like metal being tortured—and her legs thrashed wildly. I hit the ground hard, rolling to avoid being skewered by her death throes.
Green ichor splattered across the cave floor where her eye had been, and the familiar warm glow enveloped me. Stronger this time.
But she wasn't done. If anything, the injury seemed to make her angrier.
She spat a glob of webbing at me—a projectile the size of a dinner plate that hit my sword arm and immediately began hardening. I yanked desperately, tearing free just before she brought a leg down where my head had been, leaving a crater in the stone floor.
The opening was there for just a moment—her head lowered as she tried to bite where she thought I was. I charged forward, sliding under her belly like I was stealing home plate, and drove my blade upward with every ounce of strength I had.
The steel pierced through her softer underside, and more green ichor gushed down over me. The Spider Queen convulsed, legs curling inward as she gave one final, ear-splitting shriek before collapsing in a heap.
The warm glow hit me again, stronger than ever. I felt like I could probably take on a small army now, or at least a medium-sized very angry mob.
***
With their queen dead, the remaining spiders scattered into the deeper tunnels like employees fleeing a particularly brutal staff meeting. A dungeon raid that went straight to the boss fight. I stood there for a moment, panting and wiping gore from my face, while my teammates emerged from their safe spot with expressions ranging from awe to terror.
"Is it over?" whispered the mage.
"The immediate spider threat? Yes." I gestured at the webbed elf above us. "The complicated diplomatic situation we're about to inherit? Probably just getting started."
I climbed up the web structure carefully—no point in rescuing someone just to drop them on their head—and cut the elf woman free with precise sword strokes. She was unconscious but breathing, with the kind of ageless beauty that could probably bankrupt kingdoms and start religious movements.
Also, and I could just tell through protagonist intuition, she was old. Like, really old. Definitely over two hundred years, which in elf terms probably counted as "prime marriageable age" but in my book screamed "potential sugar mommy situation."
Beautiful? Absolutely. But I wasn't particularly interested in someone who had been around since before my great-great-grandparents were born. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my romantic interests to be from the same geological era.
I carried her down from the webs and set her gently on the cave floor. She stirred slightly, silver eyelashes fluttering.
"Alright, princess," I said, checking to make sure she wasn't seriously injured. "Let's save your inevitable tragic backstory and exposition dump for when we're somewhere that doesn't smell like spider guts."
Because if there's one thing I've learned from reading hundreds of webnovels, it's that rescuing someone—especially a beautiful elf woman from a spider lair—always comes with a lot of backstory. Usually involving ancient curses, political intrigue, and at least three different prophecies.
And given how this world seemed determined to follow every trope in the book, I was probably about to become the unwilling center of an international incident.
Sassy chirped from the cave entrance, a sound that clearly meant "Can we go now? This place smells weird and I want more chicken."
"Yeah, kid," I said, gathering up what looked like valuable spider parts for the guild bounty. "Let's get out of here. Something tells me our quiet F-rank adventuring days are about to become a lot more complicated."
The elf woman's eyes opened, revealing irises the color of spring leaves, and she looked up at me with the kind of grateful expression that absolutely confirmed my worst fears about where this storyline was headed.
Perfect. Just perfect.