The road to Millbrook stretched before Darian like a brown snake winding through green fields. He'd walked it a hundred times in his past life, though that had been over a century ago. The landscape had changed. Farms had grown or shrunk. Trees had been planted or cut down. But the road itself remained, stubborn and eternal.
He walked at an easy pace, not pushing. There was no need to rush. Millbrook would still be there when he arrived, and he had centuries of patience buried in his bones.
The morning sun warmed his shoulders. Birds sang in the hedgerows. Farmers called to each other across fields, their voices carrying on the light breeze. It was peaceful. Normal. The kind of day Darian had learned to appreciate over the past eighteen years.
He thought about his parents. Elara's tears. Theron's tight jaw. They'd be alright. He'd made sure of that. The house was paid for. The farm was productive. There was enough coin hidden away to last them decades if they were careful.
And he'd come back. He meant that.
But first, Millbrook. First, the guild.
---
The town appeared around midday, rising from the flat farmland like a cluster of children's blocks scattered by a giant. Darian remembered it from his past life, though it had grown since then. New buildings on the outskirts. A wider road. More traffic.
He joined the flow of people heading toward the gates. Farmers with carts. Peddlers with packs. A group of young men his age, laughing too loudly, probably heading to the guild themselves. Darian watched them with old eyes, noting their gear, their posture, their complete lack of awareness.
Children. All of them children, even the ones his own age.
He passed through the gates without incident. The guards barely glanced at him. Just another young man come to seek his fortune in the big town.
Millbrook's main street was busy. Shops and stalls lined both sides, selling everything from vegetables to weapons. Darian noted the blacksmith, the tanner, the inn with the creaking sign. He'd need a place to stay tonight. But first, the guild.
The Adventurer's Guild hall sat at the town's center, a solid two-story building of gray stone with a red tile roof. A wooden sign above the door showed a crossed sword and staff against a shield. The paint was fresh. Someone took pride in their work.
Darian pushed open the door and stepped inside.
---
The common room was busy.
Not crowded, but busy enough. A dozen people sat at scattered tables, eating, drinking, talking in low voices. The air smelled of old wood, spilled ale, and something cooking in the back. A long counter ran along one wall, staffed by a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and efficient movements. Behind her, a board covered in parchment fluttered slightly in the draft. Quest notices.
Darian stood just inside the door for a moment, taking it all in. This was the heartbeat of every town in the kingdom. The place where dreams began and ended. He'd stood in rooms like this a thousand times in his past life.
Nothing had changed.
He walked to the counter.
The woman looked up, gave him a quick once-over, and smiled the smile of someone who'd seen a thousand hopeful young men.
"New adventurer?"
"Yes."
"Registration's five silver. Gets you a guild badge, access to the quest board, and a share of the communal information network. Additional services cost extra."
Darian placed five silver coins on the counter. The woman's eyebrows rose slightly. Most farm boys didn't have that kind of coin on arrival.
"Name?"
"Darian Ashford."
She wrote it in a ledger with a scratched quill, her handwriting neat and practiced. Then she reached beneath the counter and produced a small iron badge shaped like the sign outside. It was heavier than it looked.
"Welcome to the guild, Darian. I'm Marta. Any questions?"
Darian turned the badge over in his hand. Simple. Functional. It meant nothing and everything.
"What's the process for ranking up?"
Marta's eyes sharpened with interest. Most new adventurers didn't ask about rankings on their first day. They were too busy dreaming of glory and gold.
"Start with F-rank. Complete enough quests, prove yourself reliable, and you can test for E-rank after three months or twenty quests, whichever comes first. Higher ranks require recommendations from senior adventurers or guild officials. It takes time. Most people never make it past D-rank."
Darian nodded. "And class registration?"
"Ah." Marta leaned on the counter. "Now that's interesting. Most new adventurers don't worry about classes until they've leveled a bit. They pick a basic class early, then regret it later when they find out about better options." She studied him more carefully. "You can register a class here if you have one. If not, the guild offers basic training in common classes for a fee. Warrior, Thief, Ranger, Mage. Standard stuff."
"What about uncommon classes?"
"Those you find on your own. Hidden classes, rare classes, specializations... the guild can point you in the right direction sometimes, but we don't hand them out. You have to earn them." She paused. "Do you have a class already?"
Darian considered lying. Decided against it. "Not yet. I've been saving my free stats. Waiting to see what's available."
Marta blinked. "Saving stats? At your level? How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"And you've been saving stats since...?"
"Always."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she shook her head slowly.
"Boy, do you have any idea how unusual that is? Most adventurers can't resist spending their stats the moment they get them. Instant gratification. They don't think about the future."
Darian said nothing.
Marta chuckled. "Alright. You want to check class options? There's an assessment chamber in the basement. Costs ten silver for an hour. It'll scan you and recommend classes based on your stats, your talent, your combat style. Worth doing if you're serious about this."
Darian placed ten more coins on the counter.
Marta looked at them. Then at him. Then at the coins again.
"Eighteen years old, walks in alone, pays for registration and assessment without blinking. You're either very prepared or very lucky."
"Prepared."
"I'm starting to believe it." She jerked her head toward a door at the back of the room. "Through there, down the stairs, last room on the left. Don't touch anything you're not supposed to. And don't be surprised if nothing happens. The chamber's old. Sometimes it needs a few tries."
Darian nodded and headed for the door.
Behind him, Marta watched him go, her sharp eyes thoughtful.
---
The basement was cool and quiet, lit by magical crystals that glowed with soft blue light. Darian's footsteps echoed on stone as he passed several doors before reaching the last one. A simple wooden plaque read "Assessment Chamber" in faded letters.
He pushed open the door.
The room inside was circular, maybe twenty feet across, with a smooth stone floor and walls covered in faintly glowing runes. Some of them flickered unevenly. Dust covered the corners. A pedestal stood at the center, topped with a crystal sphere the size of a human head.
Darian approached slowly. The chamber hummed softly, like a sleeping animal.
[Class Assessment Chamber Detected]
[Place both hands on the assessment crystal to begin.]
He placed his hands on the sphere.
Nothing happened for a long moment. Then the runes on the walls flickered brighter. The hum grew louder. The crystal warmed beneath his palms.
[Scanning...]
[Subject: Darian Ashford]
[Level: 161]
[Talent: DEVOUR (X-RANK) - DETECTED]
[Stat Anomaly: 1500% above expected values]
[Combat Effectiveness: Equivalent to Level 620]
[Ancient Bond: Detected - Source Unknown]
[Class Recommendations:]
- Soul Devourer (MYTHICAL) - Requirements Met
- Reaver (LEGENDARY) - Requirements Met
- Blade Dancer (EPIC) - Requirements Met
- [CLASSIFIED] - Requirements Partially Met
- [CLASSIFIED] - Requirements Not Met
Darian stared at the notification.
Five classes. Three fully available. One partially available. One locked.
He focused on the first option.
[Soul Devourer (MYTHICAL)]
A class born from the fusion of an ancient bond and a devouring talent. The Soul Devourer does not simply consume stats. It consumes essence, memories, and eventually, aspects of reality itself.
Abilities Unlocked:
- Devour Efficiency +25%
- Soul Sense (Detect living creatures within 100 meters)
- Essence Drain (Drain small amounts of stats from living enemies over time)
- Memory Theft (Absorb memory fragments from slain enemies)
[LOCKED ABILITIES]
- Requires Bond 30%
- Requires Bond 50%
- Requires Bond 75%
Warning: This class will attract attention from forces beyond mortal understanding. Proceed with caution.
He read the description twice. Memory Theft was already unlocked. That matched what he'd experienced with the bandit messenger years ago.
Then he checked the other options.
[Reaver (LEGENDARY)]
A warrior who lives for battle. Reavers grow stronger the longer they fight, drawing power from the chaos of combat.
Abilities:
- Battle Fury (Stats increase during combat)
- Adrenaline Surge (Temporary speed boost)
- Bloodlust (Heal slightly from each kill)
[Blade Dancer (EPIC)]
A graceful fighter who turns combat into art. Blade Dancers excel at avoiding damage and striking vital points.
Abilities:
- Dance of Blades (Increased attack speed)
- Evasion (Chance to avoid attacks)
- Precision Strike (Bonus damage to weak points)
Then the partially available class.
[CLASSIFIED]
Requirements partially met. Continue growing your ancient bond to unlock further information.
Darian stared at those redacted lines. Someone had built this assessment chamber to hide certain classes. To keep them secret from anyone who wasn't ready.
He wondered what they were hiding.
But for now, he had a choice to make. Reaver and Blade Dancer were good classes. Solid. Reliable. He could build a fine career with either one.
But Soul Devourer... that was something else. Something that shouldn't exist. Something tied to the ancient presence in his soul.
He thought about the voice in the darkness. The whisper that had kept him alive for a hundred years. The fusion that had brought him back.
There was no choice, really.
[CLASS REGISTERED: SOUL DEVOURER (MYTHICAL)]
[Class features unlocked.]
[New abilities added.]
[Skill tree available.]
[Ancient Bond: SYNC 28% → 30%]
The runes on the walls flared bright. The crystal pulsed with warmth. Darian felt something shift inside him, settle into place.
[New Ability Unlocked: Bond Sense]
[Bond Sense: You can now detect the presence of other ancient bonds within 500 meters.]
When he pulled his hands away, the chamber was quiet again.
He left the basement and headed back upstairs.
---
The common room had grown busier while he was gone.
More adventurers had arrived, filling the tables with noise and laughter. A group of young men near the fire were boasting loudly about their exploits. A pair of older women in leather armor sat in a corner, speaking quietly over mugs of ale. A man with a missing ear was arguing with the cook about something.
Darian wove through the crowd toward the counter.
Marta was dealing with a line of new arrivals. He waited patiently, watching the room, noting faces and gear and postures. Old habit. Old survival instinct.
When his turn came, Marta raised an eyebrow.
"Assessment go well?"
"Yes."
"Get a class?"
"Yes."
She waited. When he didn't elaborate, she snorted.
"Secretive type, huh? Fine. Keep your secrets. What else do you need?"
"A place to stay. Somewhere quiet."
"There's an inn down the street. The Sleeping Fox. Tell them Marta sent you, they'll give you a fair price." She paused. "You planning to take any quests today?"
Darian glanced at the quest board. It was crowded with notices, fluttering in the draft from the door. F-rank quests on the left. Mostly simple things. Rats in basements. Lost pets. Delivery jobs.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll look tomorrow."
Marta nodded. "Smart. Get settled first. Learn the town. Talk to people. Quests aren't going anywhere."
Darian turned to leave.
"Hey." Marta's voice stopped him. "What class did you pick?"
He looked back. Considered.
"Soul Devourer."
Her face went blank. "Never heard of it."
"Neither had I, until today."
He left her standing behind the counter, staring after him with a puzzled expression.
---
The Sleeping Fox was a modest inn at the end of a quiet street.
It wasn't fancy. The sign was faded, the paint peeling. But the windows were clean, the steps swept, and the smell coming from inside was good. Simple food, well made. Darian recognized the signs of honest work.
He pushed open the door.
The common room was small but cozy. A fire crackled in the hearth. Half a dozen locals sat at tables, talking quietly over their drinks. A woman behind the bar looked up as he entered, her eyes scanning him with practiced efficiency.
"Room?"
"Yes. Marta sent me."
The woman's expression softened slightly. "Marta, eh? How is the old battle-axe?"
"The same, I imagine."
She laughed, a warm sound. "She's been the same for twenty years. I'm Hilda. Room at the back is six silver a week, includes breakfast. Dinner's extra."
Darian placed six silver on the bar.
Hilda slid a key across to him. "Last door on the right, upstairs. There's a washroom at the end of the hall. Hot water costs extra."
"I'll manage."
He climbed the narrow stairs and found his room. Small. A bed. A washstand. A window overlooking the street. Perfect.
Darian set down his pack and sat on the bed.
His first day in Millbrook. Registered with the guild. Class chosen. A room secured.
Tomorrow, he'd look at quests. Start small. Build a reputation slowly. No need to rush. No need to draw attention.
He had time. Centuries of it, if he played this right.
And somewhere out there, Sera was living her life, throwing her parties, forgetting the mediocre man she'd killed.
Let her forget.
He'd be here, growing stronger every day, one small step at a time.
---