After recovering, I went to the mercenary guild.
The building was tall, constructed of gray stone, with three floors. The first floor handled daily operations—accepting requests, issuing rewards, and paying mercenaries. The second floor was reserved for organized teams, where large-scale missions were discussed—stampedes, border conflicts, or wartime deployments. The third floor belonged to the guild's upper echelon: administrators and high-ranking mercenaries whose names carried weight.
The interior was busy.
Some mercenaries argued with staff over rewards. Others searched for party members. A few sat in silence, staring ahead with empty eyes. I joined the queue and waited.
When my turn came, I spoke first.
"I'm here to receive my mercenary badge. Name—Raven Kalyndor."
The receptionist looked up.
"Please confirm your name again for the record."
"Raven Kalyndor."
She searched briefly, then retrieved a badge and began explaining.
Each mercenary card contained seven stars.
The first three were copper, marking beginner and intermediate mercenaries.
The next two were silver, reserved for veterans—many never reached this stage, falling to injuries or long-term damage.
Above them was a gold star, granted to proven, reputable mercenaries.
The final star—platinum—was for experts whose names were known across regions.
The badge was linked directly to my identity. To complete registration, I had to place a drop of blood on it.
"If you lose it," she said, "the replacement fee is fifty silver coins. If it's stolen, report it immediately. The guild will block it across all regions."
I pricked my finger and let the blood fall.
The badge glowed faintly.
Two copper stars lit up.
I frowned. New mercenaries usually received zero stars—or one at most.
I asked.
The receptionist smiled faintly.
"Normally, yes. But you fought gray wolves during the trial and injured the pack leader. Upper management approved two stars."
That explained it.
Stars mattered. Zero- and one-star mercenaries were usually assigned gathering or courier work. Two stars meant access to low-risk hunting jobs.
I requested recommended assignments.
"For your first three missions, you may request guild recommendations," she said. "After that, you'll choose from the board."
She checked a list.
"There's a goblin subjugation request. Goblins have been appearing on the outskirts of Lankase Forest."
I accepted.
"For proof," she added, "bring back goblin ears."
The northern settlement I stayed in was surrounded on three sides by forest. To the west lay Dark Swamp Forest. To the east, Lavian Forest. The outskirts of Lankase Forest lay to the north.
I hired a cart in that direction.
During the journey, I reviewed what I knew.
Goblins were small—about the height and weight of a nine-year-old child. Their danger lay in numbers and adaptability. They always moved in groups, followed strong leaders, and learned quickly. If even one survived a massacre, it would remember the methods used and adapt.
That was why goblin nests had to be erased completely.
At the outskirts, I got down from the cart and proceeded on foot. I didn't enter the forest itself. Instead, I stayed near the tree line, where goblins were most likely to appear.
I chose a large tree overlooking a clearing and climbed high enough for cover.
Before coming, I had bought a chicken.
I killed it, placed the body in the open, and waited.
The forest answered.
Bushes rustled.
Five goblins emerged.
One carried a shield. Two wielded crude swords. Two held bows.
A balanced party.
My priority was clear.
I drew my bow and aimed at the archers first.