The morning sun filtered through the stained glass windows of the adventurer's guild, casting patterns of color across the stone floor. Arriel adjusted the cloth wrapped around his wrist, carefully hiding the glowing crystal of his new status bracelet. He and Kael stood before the quest board, scanning the notices. His heart pounded—not with nerves, but with excitement.
"You're sure about this one?" Kael asked, narrowing his eyes at the parchment Arriel had plucked. "C-rank escort mission?"
Arriel nodded firmly. "I need the experience. And the reward's better than monster culling."
Kael exhaled, clearly uneasy. "C-rank means real monsters. Bigger than goblins or slimes. You might be strong, but you're not invincible." He hesitated, then reached into his cloak and pulled out a short dagger with a dull violet sheen. "Take this. Magic-forged. Not fancy, but it'll pierce most monster hides."
Arriel accepted the weapon reverently. "Thanks. I'll return it."
"Just return alive," Kael muttered, crossing his arms. "And remember what I taught you. Fireball. Wind push. Use them to move, not just to kill."
Arriel smiled. "Got it." He had Kael to thank for that—teaching him basic magic when no one else had believed in him. Without Kael's guidance, he wouldn't even know how to circulate mana through his body, let alone form a spell.
---
By noon, Arriel stood beside a slow-moving hover wagon, part of a two-wagon caravan heading toward a border village. The wagons glided half a foot off the ground, powered by dull-blue mana crystals embedded underneath. No horses, just a pair of drivers at the front of each wagon steering with enchanted reins.
The hover technology was basic—cheap, sluggish, and groaning under the weight of goods and steel plating. Each wagon had narrow side platforms where Arriel and the other escorts stood. Two were older C-rank adventurers with weathered gear. One was a nervous-looking D-ranker barely older than Arriel.
The escort began quietly. Trees flanked the road, and the slow hover pace gave Arriel time to observe. He practiced mana circulation in his limbs, quietly whispering the chants Kael taught him to keep his spells sharp.
Then came the sudden crash.
The lead wagon jolted. A massive shape burst from the brush—a Clawhorn Boar, larger than a horse, tusks like jagged sabers. It rammed the front wagon, tipping it. One merchant cried out, diving clear. The D-rank scout screamed and ran. One escort was gored and tossed aside.
"Damn it!" shouted the other C-ranker, drawing his weapon too late.
Arriel moved on instinct. He jumped from the platform, rolled, and flung a Fireball at the beast. It scorched the flank but didn't stop it.
Mana flowed through him—he followed with Wind Push, boosting sideways as the beast charged.
The Clawhorn slammed into a tree. Arriel circled it, dagger drawn. He baited it into a narrow pocket of trees. The boar turned awkwardly—Arriel dashed in, slid underneath, planting the dagger deep into the soft skin beneath its jaw. The beast gave a final shriek, then collapsed.
Silence.
Then—the surge. Life energy burst into him like a storm, rushing into his muscles, bones and blood. The bracelet hidden under his wrist wrap pulsed.
Level 6.
Arriel gasped, nearly collapsing. His vision blurred. The mana crystal beside the number blinked red. Arriel fumbled for a mana potion and drank quickly.
---
Back at the city, even though one of the hover wagon was damaged, the merchant was still grateful.
When Arriel returned, Kael was waiting at the Guild with arms crossed.
Arriel grinned as he tossed the dagger back. "Worked like a charm."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "So…?"
Arriel lifted the cloth slightly. The bracelet read 6.
Kael didn't speak right away. Then he nodded once. "Let's get you heal first before another quest."
And just like that, Arriel's path as a true adventurer—a Hero—moved forward again.