The streets of Brixton were bustling with morning life—merchants calling out their wares, the scent of roasted meat drifting from stalls, and children chasing each other between the cobblestones. Pete walked beside Catherine, his hands behind his head, smiling as she spoke with unusual excitement.
"I finally did it," Catherine said. "The letter has reached Father by now. The engagement with Thornevale is no more—I'm free of their clutches."
Her smile was radiant, brighter than Pete had ever seen.
Pete chuckled, his chest swelling with pride. "Good. You shouldn't have been tied to people like that in the first place. The Thornevales… tch, they act like they own half the Empire. Just wait. One day, I'll make them answer for all their arrogance."
Catherine glanced at him, amused by his heroic bravado. "You really do say the most reckless things."
Soon, their steps brought them before a large building of timber and stone. A heavy oak sign swung above the entrance, painted with the image of crossed swords and a shield—the Adventurers' Guild.
Pete's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's—"
"—the guild," Catherine finished softly, curiosity glinting in her gaze.
The pair exchanged a glance, then curiosity won over, and they stepped inside.
The guild hall was exactly what stories described—rows of round wooden tables filled with armored adventurers drinking and laughing, the clatter of mugs, the occasional arm-wrestling match in the corner. On the far wall stood a massive mission board, covered with papers.
Pete's eyes gleamed as he scanned the posters. "Look at this! Monster exterminations, escorts, even treasure hunts!"
Before he could rush over, a clear, polite voice called out.
"Welcome, Hero."
Behind the polished counter stood a young receptionist with a practiced smile. She bowed slightly, recognition in her eyes.
Pete straightened proudly. "Ah… hello. I was just looking at the missions."
The receptionist nodded. "If you wish to take missions, you'll need to officially join the guild. Don't worry, it won't interfere with your studies at the academy. Many students register here and take on quests during their free time. The rewards can be quite generous as well."
Pete perked up instantly at the word rewards. "Generous, you say?"
Catherine stifled a laugh at the spark in his eyes.
"Yes," the receptionist continued smoothly. "Completion grants coins and recognition. Given your identity, you'll be welcomed with open arms."
Pete slapped a hand on the counter. "Then sign me up!"
The receptionist hid a smile and drew out a parchment form. Pete eagerly filled it in—name, age, abilities—before pricking his finger and letting a drop of blood fall into the small rune-etched circle at the bottom. The circle glowed faintly before sinking into the paper.
"Please wait a moment," she said before disappearing into the back.
Catherine folded her arms, watching Pete with a raised brow. "So now you're an adventurer too?"
Pete grinned ear to ear. "Why not? It's another way to help people! Besides, it sounds fun."
Moments later, the receptionist returned holding a small bronze badge engraved with Pete's name and a shining rune. She handed it over respectfully.
"Welcome to the guild, Sir Hero. Your initial rank is B."
Pete blinked, impressed. "B? Just like that?"
"You are already recognized as the Hero. Most begin at F rank, but your strength places you higher automatically."
She gestured toward the board. "Missions are ranked F through A, with S and SS reserved for the most dangerous assignments, same as the monsters and weapons are classified. You may take any mission up to B-rank at present. Completing them raises both your contribution and your rank."
Pete twirled the badge between his fingers, his grin unstoppable. "Perfect. I'll clear missions left and right!"
Catherine watched him, a small smile tugging at her lips. But deep inside, she felt a shadow of unease—because even as Pete embraced this world with bright eyes, she could not help but think of another white-haired figure who moved the Empire in far darker ways.
As Pete admired his new badge, the murmur of the guild shifted. Adventurers at nearby tables had noticed the receptionist's special treatment.
A burly man with a scar running across his jaw leaned back in his chair, eyeing Pete with narrowed eyes. "Tch. Figures. Walks in and gets B-rank instantly. Some of us nearly died crawling from F to D, and he gets handed a badge on a silver plate."
His companions chuckled bitterly, though none spoke too loud—Hero was not a title to mock openly.
At another table, a younger adventurer whispered excitedly to his friend. "That's him—the Hero chosen by the goddess!. Imagine being on a mission team with him…"
The friend elbowed him. "Idiot. Someone like him wouldn't team up with the likes of us."
Pete caught the voices but pretended not to hear. He turned to Catherine with an almost boyish grin. "See? Even strangers recognize me!"
Catherine arched an eyebrow. "Not all of them are admiring you, Pete."
Her words were proven true when the scarred man stood and approached the counter. He dropped a blood-stained bag onto the counter with a heavy thud—inside were the ears of slain beasts.
He leaned close to the receptionist, speaking loudly enough for Pete to hear. "Make sure the guild remembers who actually works for their coin. Titles don't kill monsters—we do."
The receptionist stiffened, but kept her professional smile. "Of course, your contribution will be recorded."
The man shot Pete a glare before turning back to his seat.
Pete clenched his fists, his pride stung. He wanted to say something heroic, something that would silence the man, but Catherine lightly tugged at his sleeve.
"Don't," she whispered. "You'll only give them more reason to resent you. Prove yourself through actions, not words."
Pete hesitated, then exhaled. "Fine. Then I'll take the hardest B-rank mission on that board and show them what I'm worth."
The receptionist's eyes widened. "Sir Hero, please—guild rules state that first-time missions should not exceed C-rank for safety. Even with your status, I strongly recommend you begin with something more manageable."
Pete's grin returned, undeterred. "Then give me the toughest C-rank you've got."
The receptionist sighed, rifling through the notices. Finally, she pulled out one with a crimson seal.
"A pack of Dire Wolves has been spotted in the northern woods. C-rank extermination. Several parties attempted it, but… none returned."
The hall grew quieter. Adventurers glanced toward Pete, some with pity, others with smug satisfaction.
Pete snatched the notice without hesitation. "Perfect. I'll handle it."
Catherine sighed softly, shaking her head as she followed him toward the exit. 'Reckless as ever…'
The northern woods were thick with fog when Pete and Catherine arrived at the mission site. The ground was torn with claw marks, half-devoured corpses of unlucky adventurers littered between the trees.
Pete tightened his grip on his holy sword, its silver edge gleaming faintly even in the dim light. "So this is where they fell… Don't worry, I'll end this for them."
A low howl echoed through the forest. Then another. And another.
Soon, the shadows moved—yellow eyes glowed from every angle. One Dire Wolf stepped forward, massive and scarred, its teeth bared. Then behind it, dozens more appeared, their growls shaking the trees. A hundred strong pack.
Catherine's eyes widened. "Pete—this isn't just a C-rank mission. This is an army."
But Pete only grinned, slamming his sword into the ground. Holy light rippled outward, burning away the mist. "Then it's perfect."
The wolves charged.
Steel clashed against fang, light against darkness. Pete swung his sword in wide arcs, his movements fast but calculated. Every strike cut down one, sometimes two wolves, but their numbers seemed endless. Claws raked across his arms and shoulders, blood spraying.
"Pete!" Catherine cried, rushing forward. She lifted her staff, golden light pouring from her hands. Holy healing enveloped his wounds, closing them almost instantly.
"Thanks, Catherine!" Pete shouted, pushing forward again. He fought like a storm—dodging, cutting, and bashing wolves aside.
But for every beast slain, another leapt forward. At one point, three Dire Wolves pinned him down, their jaws snapping inches from his face.
"NO!" Catherine's voice rang out. She struck her staff into the earth, releasing a wave of blinding light. The wolves yelped, staggering back.
Pete surged up, sword flashing. "You'll never win—not while I'm here!"
Hours seemed to pass in moments, but finally the forest fell silent. Blood stained the ground, bodies of wolves scattered across the clearing. Pete stood at the center, breathing hard, his holy sword glowing faintly in the dusk. Catherine's hands trembled from overusing her magic, but she smiled.
"You're insane," she said softly.
Pete wiped blood from his face and gave a cocky grin. "But we did it."
When they returned to the guild, bruised but triumphant, all eyes turned to them. Pete slammed the mission notice onto the counter.
"Dire Wolves—dealt with."
The receptionist blinked in shock. "S-sir Hero… where are the proofs? Ears, claws, something to confirm?"
Pete scratched his head, sheepish. "Uh… no one told me I had to bring proof."
Whispers spread across the guild. Some snorted, others smirked. So he's just making it up.
The receptionist hesitated, then quickly called over a group of guild scouts. "Verify the mission site. Now."
Minutes dragged into hours. The tension in the guild was thick. Adventurers laughed under their breath, waiting for Pete to be exposed. Catherine sat quietly beside him, calm as ever.
Finally, the scouts burst back through the doors, pale and trembling.
"C-confirmed! Hundreds of Dire Wolf corpses in the northern woods. The Hero cut them down single-handedly!"
The hall fell silent.
One by one, the sneers vanished, replaced by awe. Adventurers stared at Pete with wide eyes, their earlier scorn gone.
The scarred man from before stood slowly, his jaw tight. For a moment, it seemed he might challenge Pete again… but instead, he bowed his head.
"Tch… forgive me, Hero. I doubted you."
The receptionist's voice shook with excitement. "To slay an entire Dire Wolf pack… that's beyond even an A-rank mission. You truly are deserving of your title."
Pete puffed his chest, his grin stretching wide. "Told you I'd prove myself."
Catherine hid a small smile behind her hand. 'Reckless, foolish… but still, a true Hero.'
At night, the moon hung high above Brixton, silver light bathing the rooftops. The city had gone quiet after the bustling day, lanterns dimming one by one.
Through the still night sky, two shadows cut across the clouds—hawks, wings beating steady and swift.
One descended upon the city lord's mansion, talons scraping as it landed neatly on the stone railing of the balcony.
At the same time, the second hawk glided gracefully toward the guest mansion, landing on the sill of a lit window. Inside, Princess Catherine sat at her desk, brushing her long hair as she hummed softly. Her eyes caught the movement, and she hurried to the window.
"Oh! My hawk?" she whispered, but her smile faltered when she noticed the seal it was the imperial crest.