The Adventurers' Association branch in Veldroth wasn't as grand as the legendary halls in the great capitals, but it bore the same emblem: a stylized sword entwined by a serpent, representing strength tempered by wisdom.
The stone walls were weathered by time, the floorboards creaked under the weight of history and hurried boots, and the scent of parchment, leather, and faintly of ash hung in the air.
A bronze bell jingled faintly as Alaric pushed open the door.
Inside, the hall was modest—two floors, a quest board nailed to a sturdy pillar, and a line of low wooden desks where Association clerks met clients and adventurers alike. A few seasoned mercenaries sipped tea in the corner, boots muddy from morning patrols.
This was where reality began.
Alaric approached the front desk with the three girls in tow. The same clerk from the previous day greeted them with a warm nod, adjusting her glasses.
"Back again so soon?"
She smiled.
"Are you ready for your promotion test?"
"Not yet."
Alaric said. He continued,
"I want them to register as Adventurers."
Lirael than took a good look at the three girls. All of them are breath taking beauty. But the one with white hair and crimson eyes stood out the most. Not because of her beauty but because of how she carries her self.
She also noticed the slave marks on their necks. She didn't say much. And proceed with their registration.
Lirael flipped open a thick ledger and drew out three parchment scrolls—registration forms for the Minor Initiate Trials. At the top was a single line:
30 Tasks. No less. No shortcuts.
"These are the terms,"
Lirael explained.
"Thirty minor missions. Some will be dull. Some a little dangerous. All are necessary. Only after that can the Association officially recognize a party as adventurers."
Serineth leaned in curiously.
"What kind of missions?"
"Courier runs. Herb gathering. Helping villagers track stray livestock. Guarding minor trade caravans. The point isn't glory—it's proof. Reliability. Grit."
"Proof that we can handle being forgotten, too,"
Aurevia murmured.
Cellione read the form silently, her lips moving with each line. Her fingers curled slightly on the scroll, but she gave a curt nod.
"Let's begin."
Lirael smiled, then pointed to the quest board.
"Pick any task marked with the blue wax seal. That's the beginner tier."
They stepped toward the board together.
A hushed stillness passed between them as they scanned the options. A request to escort a lumber wagon to a nearby logging village.
Another to weed an overgrown herb garden. A third to track a group of wild horn-rabbits disturbing farmland.
No dragons. No dark rituals. No destiny.
Just... work.
And yet, Serineth was the first to smile.
"Let's do the herb garden. My magic might be useful."
Aurevia nodded toward the escort job.
"We'll take both. Divide and conquer."
Alaric watched from a bench near the hearth as they organized their first assignments. He didn't intervene. Didn't suggest. Just observed—quiet and still.
Later that afternoon, they split up.
Serineth returned muddy and flushed, sleeves soaked from overwatered soil and fingers stained green. But she was humming.
Cellione came back with a faint bruise on her wrist, earned when one of the villagers threw a tantrum over the missing tools.
She didn't complain. Just asked Alaric for a healing salve, and then studied the town map for tomorrow's routes.
Aurevia escorted the lumber wagon with two other probationary adventurers. She came back at dusk, windblown and quiet. When Alaric asked how it went, she simply said:
"They respected me."
That night, they sat by the inn fireplace, their scrolls stamped once each by the Association. One of thirty complete.
Alaric handed each of them a new set of gloves he'd bought from a quiet leatherworker in the market.
"For blisters,"
He said simply.
None of them said anything, but Cellione slipped hers on immediately. Serineth fiddled with hers until she found the perfect fit. Aurevia just set hers on the table, fingers resting lightly on them like they were fragile.
By the end of the week, they'd completed eight more.
Chasing feral sheep. Mapping overgrown hills. Rescuing a trapped child in a collapsed cellar.
Each time, they returned not only with stamps, but stories—small, clumsy victories. The beginnings of camaraderie forged in dirt and repetition.
And behind it all, Alaric watched.
He never lifted a blade or cast a spell.
Not yet.
This was their journey.
But as the wax seals on their parchment multiplied, so too did something deeper—a quiet strength in their step. A growing fire in their hearts.
And Alaric, watching from the shadow of a flickering torch, knew:
They were becoming worthy of their own names.
*****
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶
✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
Veldroth's Adventurers' Association branch was quieter than usual. Rain fell in a gentle rhythm outside, misting the windows and muting the world. Inside, Lirael Windcroft adjusted her spectacles as she handed a parchment to Alaric.
"Promotion task,"
She said softly, almost with respect.
"You've met the duration requirement. Over three months of probation. Thirty tasks completed. Now this."
Alaric would take monster hunting missions whenever he got out and sell the corpse to the merchant company he contacted with.
It was a good deal that brought him good money and also he completed missions at the same time.
Alaric glanced at the parchment. The title was handwritten in flowing ink:
"[E-Rank] Promotion Trial — Task of the Silent Grove"
Lirael continued, her voice low, measured.
"It's a solitary trial. No companions. No aid. It's tradition. You're to enter the Whispering Hollow, an ancient grove roughly six leagues north of Veldroth. At the center is a stone shrine, half-buried in moss and time. Your task is simple:"
"Light the Shrine of Silence with your own mana and return before dawn."
Alaric blinked once, then twice.
"…That's all?"
Gilda shook her head with a faint smile.
"That's what it says. But the Whispering Hollow is riddled with magical silence. Enchanted vines. Unseen illusions.
Old spirits from the time before the Association even existed. It doesn't test strength. It tests presence. Stillness. Control. You can't brute-force your way through it. Only those who can listen pass through it untouched."
Alaric lowered the parchment slowly.
"So it's a meditation trial… disguised as a navigation challenge?"
"And a Mana control trial,"
Lirael added.
"The shrine won't light for borrowed power. You have to transmute your mana cleanly. Precisely. Sloppiness will trigger the vines. Or worse, the grove will reject you."
He nodded.
"Don't take it lightly, because lightning it means that you are ready to venture into the inner forest. But if some one manages to get permanently rejected by it, they can say goodbye to their Adventurer career in Veldroth. They had to start anew in some where else."
Lirael said witha serious look.
"Why?"
Alaric asked, confused.
"The Inner Forest is like a different world all together. It is a place of cruelty and darkness that seeks to consume the mind every moment.
If your not mentally prepared, you will only be a hassle to others. And the shrine tasts ones mental fortitude before approval. By approval I mean lightning up. I Don't think you will have much problem, but still take care."
Alaric nodded without saying anything and left.
***
That evening Alaric bid goodbye to the girls. He put on his robe. He quietly left the city in search of the shrine. As the city grew distant.
The forest grew darker and darker. Alaric channeled Divine Energy into his Eyes and cast Sanctifying Benediction on himself to avid any danger. His vision cleared.
The darkness was no more he could see everything perfectly now. He ran around at full speed to find the shrine.
The Whispering Hollow was a forest unlike the rest of Elarion. Trees leaned inward as if eavesdropping. No birds sang. Even Alaric's footsteps seemed swallowed by the moss, each breath muffled by the dense Mana in the air.
He moved with careful steps, letting instinct guide him.
Several times, he saw illusory paths—a flickering glimpse of the shrine in the wrong direction, a deer that dissolved into petals, a child's laughter echoing from nowhere.
But he never chased them.
Their was no need to. He knew that they were fake. And thanks to his Soul Trait this type of things can never invade his consciousness.
He passed vines that twitched at sudden movement. He stepped over roots that pulsed with memory.
At last, in a small clearing dappled with moonlight, he found it:
The Shrine of Silence.
Night wrapped Veldroth's forest in a breathless silence. The trees stood tall and reverent under the pale silver gaze of the moon. Alaric moved through the woods with quiet confidence, each step deliberate.
A faint shimmer lingered in the air behind him, the Divine Energy from his body gently altering the forest's aura as if it, too, recognized his sanctity.
He walked for over an hour, deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest—far beyond the trails that even seasoned hunters dared tread. He came to a clearing veiled in mist, one he had visited only once before.
It was hidden in plain sight, inaccessible during daylight no matter how one tried. Only under moonlight—when the stars aligned just right—did the path reveal itself, as if the forest opened its secrets only to one who bore divinity in silence.
There, nestled among moss-covered stones and ancient trees, stood the shrine.
Cracked but proud, the shrine bore the marks of something older than kingdoms. Vines curled around its frame like the fingers of time, but its core was untouched—as though shielded by some unspoken pact.
Alaric walked toward it without hesitation. He knelt before the darkened altar and exhaled slowly. Not mana—this was not a place for worldly power.
Divine Energy stirred within him like a slow-burning sun.
He raised his hand. A soft, Golden-White light bloomed in his palm—gentle, yet so pure it seemed to hum against the stillness. When he pressed it to the heart of the shrine, the reaction was instant.
Lines of ancient script engraved upon the stone flared to life, glowing not with fire or lightning, but with memory. The runes pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat—slow, solemn, and powerful.
Then, without warning, the runes detached from the stone, rising like wisps of light. They floated toward Alaric—silent, unwavering—and sank into his chest, disappearing into the depths of his Divine Heart Core.
He didn't flinch. But a weight settled over him. Not oppressive—but ancient, dignified. Like something had acknowledged him. Marked him.
He placed a hand over his heart. The runes left no wound, no pain. Just warmth. Resonance.
He stood, eyes lingering on the shrine now dim once more. The clearing was still again, as if nothing had ever happened. As if the shrine were once again just a broken relic in the woods.
But it wasn't.
And he knew it.
He turned, his silhouette vanishing into the forest, taking with him a mystery not even he fully understood yet.
***
The evening air outside the Adventurers Association carried a faint chill, brushing softly past Alaric's hood as he stepped through the familiar arched entrance.
Warm golden light spilled from inside, casting an inviting glow onto the cobbled streets of Veldroth.
As expected, the Association was still open—its interior humming with quiet life despite the hour nearing dinner. The scent of parchment, leather, and faintly singed beast-hide lingered in the air.
Behind the front desk sat Lirael Windcroft, the only receptionist Alaric knew by name. Her posture was attentive, and though she seemed tired, she didn't look surprised to see him. A soft smile curved her lips the moment their eyes met.
"I had a feeling you'd be back before the night was done,"
She said gently, setting aside a stack of stamped request forms.
"Your task was approved as a promotion qualifier, and since I issued it, it's my duty to be here until it's resolved. How did it go?"
Alaric offered her a quiet nod and placed the enchanted confirmation token on the counter, its surface still pulsing faintly with divine resonance.
"It's done. The shrine lit... and the way opened."
A slight pause followed. Lirael studied him closely before reaching for the token, her gloved fingers brushing it with practiced grace.
With a faint hum, the badge glowed against the Association's registry crystal, confirming Alaric's success.
"Then, by the authority of the Veldroth Adventurers Association,"
She said, a hint of ceremony in her voice,
"I formally promote you, Alaric Aurelian, to [E-Rank] Adventurer."
The moment passed in stillness—one that Alaric felt settle deeply in his chest. He hadn't chased this path for prestige, yet standing here, having completed a task that few would attempt, there was a quiet sense of acknowledgment.
Lirael retrieved a new silver-etched badge, its runes pulsing faintly as she handed it to him.
"From this point on, you can take [E-Rank] missions and enter restricted areas when permitted."
She then pulled a set of thin leather-bound booklets from a drawer and slid them across the counter.
"Now that you're [E-Rank], you gain access to the Association's Resource Hall, the Commission Ledger, and mission archives. You're also eligible for missions directly requested by guild-affiliated patrons and noble houses."
Alaric flipped through the top booklet. Inside were listings for all current [E-Rank] missions, categorized under detailed headers:
-BGS (Beast Subjugation)
-RCS (Reconnaissance & Surveillance)
-ECN (Escort/Containment)
-TRH (Treasure Recovery/Hunting)
-MTH (Magical Task/Hazard)
-SPC (Special Commissions)
Each entry was tagged with its Tier Difficulty, Region Clearance, and Requestor Seal.
"Your last task was classified E-MTH-2,"
Lirael explained.
"It also functioned as a permission trial. Without lighting the shrine, the only other way to leave that forest pocket is by waiting until dawn. That would've marked the task as failed."
Alaric nodded slowly, his mind replaying the eerie silence of the woods, the divine glow of the shrine, and the ancient runes that had vanished into his heart core. He kept their mystery unspoken.
"I understand,"
He said.
With the formalities complete, Lirael leaned back, relaxing slightly.
"You've done well, Alaric. Not many pass on their first solo promotion task, especially not with one tied to the forest's deeper mysteries."
As he turned to leave, new badge pinned to his chest, a quiet flame stirred in his chest—not pride, but resolve. He was now [E-Rank]. The path ahead was only just beginning.
***
Later that evening, Alaric returned home, carrying freshly prepared food packed in covered trays—warm roasted meat, seasoned vegetables, and honeyed bread.
The girls had waited patiently, seated together in the warmly lit common room of the house. When the door opened, their eyes lit up.
"Master,"
Aurevia greeted, standing up with the others beside her. Her voice was soft but filled with genuine warmth.
"Welcome back, Master,"
Serineth and Cellione echoed respectfully.
They had all been cautious until now, but tonight—for the first time since coming under his care—the slave marks around their necks were visible.
No longer hidden, they shimmered faintly under the lamplight, a quiet sign of their bond. Yet there was no fear or shame in their eyes, only trust.
Alaric offered them a gentle smile and placed the trays on the table.
"Let's eat. Tonight is for celebrating. You're all officially adventurers now."
The meal passed in warmth and laughter, each girl relaxing more as the minutes slipped by. Alaric shared the tale of his promotion—of the eerie forest, the hidden shrine, and the challenge that waited in silence until he lit it with divine light.
Though he kept the full depth of the shrine's secret to himself, the girls listened with wide eyes and occasional gasps.
"It must've been dangerous,"
Serineth murmured.
"It wasn't,Actually. Very few things in the outer forest that is strong enough to harm me."
Alaric said quietly,the girls though spectacle but still nodded. They hadn't seen Alaric fight nor they have ever seen him use Sanctifying Benediction.
So it was only natural that they were spectacle.
Aurevia leaned forward, her fingers laced before her.
"We will grow stronger too, Master. Together."
He gave a nod, his voice firm yet kind.
"Good. Because in two or three days, we start taking missions. Until then, rest. You've earned it."
They each responded in unison,
"Yes, Master."
As night deepened around their small home in Veldroth, the flickering candlelight painted soft halos on the walls, and for a moment, there was only peace.
-To Be Continued