The morning sunlight streamed through the window of Lyra's small rented room, painting golden lines across the floor. She sat at the edge of the bed, slowly savoring a plate of breakfast laid out on a wooden tray: buttered toast, scrambled eggs with chopped herbs, a few slices of seasoned ham, and a small bowl of fresh fruit. A pot of warm tea sat beside it, gently steaming in the morning air. The meal wasn't extravagant, but it was hearty and comforting—far better than stale rations or cold bread by a campfire. It filled her stomach, calmed her nerves, and more importantly, gave her time to think.
Her thoughts wandered as she stared into the steam curling from her cup. She had given herself one week—just seven days in this city. It wasn't much time, and every moment needed to count.
I can't afford to waste a single day.
She had already visited the library the day before, collecting valuable information. But that wasn't enough. She needed a long-term plan—a way to sustain herself, to survive this long journey across the continent. She had no income, no stable identity, and no one to rely on.
That's when her thoughts drifted back to something a boy had once mentioned in a village she passed through: the Adventurer Guild. A place where people with strength, skill, or even just determination could make their mark.
If I become an adventurer, I can create a new identity. I can earn money, build a reputation... maybe even find allies.
Her path from the eastern edge of the continent to the Valley in the far west would be dangerous. She couldn't do it alone. Being an adventurer meant accepting quests, fighting monsters, traveling—everything aligned with her current goals. She could grow stronger while funding her journey.
It's the best option. I can train, fight, survive—and maybe meet nobles or influential figures who can help me later.
Another thought flickered into her mind.
I'll also need a party eventually. I can't be everywhere at once, and Veyrith... he can't always be at my side in public. I'll need a healer. A support. Someone to hold the frontlines. A mage for range. Maybe even an assassin for stealth. But... can I even lead them?
That last question echoed longer than the rest. She had never led anyone before. Noxy had always taken the reins when things became complicated. But now... she was on her own. The silence around her felt heavier than usual.
This is my responsibility now. My journey. My decisions.
She stood up and set her cup down, brushing imaginary crumbs from her cloak. First things first. She needed to head to the Adventurer Guild. After that, she could think about bigger plans. Maybe she'd find a caravan heading to the capital—traveling with merchants could be safer and more efficient than going alone.
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Lyra descended to the inn's front desk, her cloak draped neatly over her shoulders and her mask hiding the upper half of her face. The receptionist this time, a woman with graying hair and a kind smile, looked up from her ledger.
"Good morning, miss. Do you need anything?"
"Yes. I'd like to ask where the Adventurer Guild is located."
"Ah, the guild? It's near the East Gate. Quite a distance from here. You're better off taking a carriage." She gestured toward the door. "Just wait outside a few minutes, one will come by."
"Thank you."
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Stepping outside, Lyra didn't wait long before a wooden carriage rattled down the cobbled street. She flagged it down, told the driver her destination, and climbed inside.
As the city passed by, Lyra watched the districts shift around her. She had entered from the South Gate, and both her inn and the Merchant Association were located in the South District. Yesterday, she had explored the Central District to reach the grand library. And now, she was bound for the East.
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Eventually, the carriage slowed.
What came into view was nothing short of impressive.
The Adventurer Guild building towered above the street, its size rivaling the Merchant Association. The front gate was large and ornate, with polished stone pillars and arching carvings that marked its prestige. Adventurers came and went in constant flow—some laughing, some dragging injured comrades, others quietly checking weapons and maps.
Lyra stepped down and approached the building slowly, her eyes scanning everything. The guild radiated power and purpose.
Inside, it was a different world.
The central desk dominated the entrance hall, flanked by several smaller service counters. Around the walls were racks of notices, glowing panels, and magical inscriptions. On the east was the quest hall, there stood a massive shimmering panel, constantly updating with available quests—details, rankings, rewards. It was mesmerizing in its magical complexity.
To the west was a bar, already lively with adventurers drinking, boasting, and discussing party formations. It had a rough charm, fitting for the chaotic lifestyle of its patrons. What Lyra didn't know yet was that above this floor lay a second level—off-limits to most. Reserved for Silver Rank adventurers and above, it housed elite quests and a quieter, refined lounge.
She moved quietly, attracting attention without meaning to. Her cloak and mask were enough to draw curiosity—but it was the aura she carried, the quiet sharpness in her eyes, that caused adventurers to murmur.
Is she a noble's daughter?
That mask... it's enchanted. So is the cloak.
What's someone like that doing here?
Despite the whispers, no one dared approach her. Veterans recognized quality when they saw it, and magical equipment wasn't cheap. Most knew better than to provoke someone who could afford such gear—or had the power to earn it.
She walked to the central desk, where a young receptionist looked up, startled by her presence.
"Yes, how may I help you?"
"I'd like to register as an adventurer."
The receptionist blinked, clearly thrown off.
"O-of course! One moment."
She quickly retrieved a sheet of parchment, embedded with magical threads.
Lyra took it and glanced at the first question.
Nickname.
She frowned slightly. "Why a nickname and not a real name?"
"Many adventurers prefer to keep their real identities hidden," the receptionist explained. "It protects their families, their pasts. The guild supports that choice."
Lyra nodded and began writing. Her pen scratched against the parchment softly. For the nickname, she paused for a moment, thinking. After a few heartbeats, she wrote: "Aurelia." A name that felt familiar yet distant—like something whispered to her from the dreams she couldn't remember. It was elegant, noble-sounding, but anonymous enough to keep her past hidden. Perfect for the mask she now wore. Next was age. She hesitated.
"Why is age needed?"
"It's a recent regulation," the receptionist replied. "Those under fifteen are redirected to the Adventurer School to train. We don't want to throw children into dangerous quests unprepared."
That made sense. Lyra wasn't entirely sure how old she was anyway. She looked sixteen—felt around that age. That would do.
She wrote: Sixteen.
The rest of the form was standard. Sex: Female. Class: Magic Swordwoman.
When she handed it back, the receptionist brought out a magical device—an orb embedded into a metallic plate.
"Place your hand here. It will record your magic imprint—unique to you."
Lyra did as instructed. The orb pulsed with light, scanning her essence. Moments later, a card materialized—a deep bronze color with glowing patterns etched into its surface.
"This is your Adventurer Card,"
The receptionist explained, holding it out.
"It confirms quest completions and tracks your achievements. It also syncs with nearby quest panels, so you can check available missions without returning to the guild each time."
Lyra took the card in silence.
"Your current rank is Bronze. From here, you can rise through the ranks: Iron, Steel, Silver, Gold, Platinum, and finally, Mythril."
The receptionist leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.
"Most adventurers only reach Steel. Silver is rare—those who do are considered local elites. In this city, there are only three Gold ranks: the City Lord, the Guildmaster, and the Merchant Association's branch leader. They're more than adventurers—they're the pillars of this region."
Lyra absorbed every word.
"Platinum adventurers are national level adventurer, deployed for national threats. Like when a Lord beast appear. As for Mythril rank... they're legends. Called only when entire regions are in danger. Continental-scale disasters. Like Mythical beasts rampage."
The final explanation detailed the guild's facilities: the magical quest panels in quest hall, the public bar, the appraisal chambers, the shopping area in partnership with the Merchant Association, and the restricted second floor.
"Only Steel rank and above can access the upper level," the receptionist concluded. "That's where the high-level missions are posted."
Lyra nodded slowly.
A new card. A new name. A new path.
She had officially stepped into the Adventurer Guild.
And from this point forward, her journey had truly begun.