After reading Elora's letter, Adonis knew he couldn't sit still. He wasn't expecting answers, but at the very least, he wanted awareness—a sense of where she stood, what lay ahead. So, with resolve in his steps, he walked through the doors of the adventurer's guild once more.
The guild hadn't changed. Adventurers bustled around tables, some laughing over ale, others sprawled with maps. The energy was lively. But for Adonis, it felt… quieter.
He sat down near the reception. His presence didn't go unnoticed.
"You got promoted to C-rank within a year, and you're only fifteen now. Even Elora wasn't that fast," Miranda, the receptionist, said with a teasing grin.
Adonis rubbed the back of his head."Yeah, I got lucky. With Elora's help, things moved faster. Without her, who knows how long it would've taken me?"
She smiled. "Modest and skilled. She'd be proud."
Before he could reply, a well-dressed butler approached.
"Guild Master Evan Cloud will see you now."
Inside the guild master's office, Evan Cloud—a figure of unshakable presence—sat behind his ornate desk. His white beard gleamed in the morning sun and his sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce through layers of thought.
"You've grown a lot this year," the old man said as Adonis entered.
"Just trying not to slack off," Adonis replied respectfully.
Evan leaned back, watching him carefully.
"You're here to ask about Elora, right?"
Adonis nodded. "Just the situation. Nothing beyond what I should know."
Evan's eyes narrowed thoughtfully before answering.
"She had some matters with her parents. That's all I can say. She'll be gone for 2–3 years. In the meantime, your best course of action is to keep improving. Once you reach Aristocrat-class, I'll recommend you to an academy that truly suits your talent."
There was a pause. Adonis hesitated before voicing his next concern.
"I wanted to ask… won't being an aristocrat-class mage at sixteen cause problems? Or… attract too much attention?"
Evan's expression didn't change, but a faint smile curved on his lips.
"You're right. It would. Reaching aristocrat-level that young would shake nobles, guilds… even the king might take interest."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But let me tell you something, Adonis—those people are frogs in a well. They think their pond is the ocean. They don't know the true scale of talent this world holds."
The room felt heavier with each word.
"There are countless talents. Some born with special bloodlines, others awakened with forbidden magics… some trained from birth by Sage-level guardians. I've heard of someone who reached aristocrat-level at fourteen."
Adonis was silent.
"And you—your sword element is rare. Singular, yes. Powerful, yes. But don't let that inflate your ego. In this world, there is always someone stronger, smarter, faster."
Evan rose from his seat and walked toward the large map pinned to the wall behind him.
"To deal with these hidden geniuses—descendants of King-class mages, royal family offshoots, and more—certain elite academies were founded. But not just anyone can enter. Entry requires sponsorship from a King-class mage or an influential figure who dares to vouch for you."
He turned to face Adonis again.
"You reach aristocrat-level, and I'll put my name on the line to recommend you."
Then, as quickly as the solemn atmosphere had settled, Evan waved a hand.
"Now get out of my office. I'm too old to be giving motivational speeches."
Adonis stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.
There was no Elora. No mentor now. But he didn't feel alone.
Because now… he had a path.
One year left.Reach aristocrat class.Earn that recommendation.Join the academy.And prepare… for a world far beyond Shangila.
The weight of power wasn't in having it—it was in what one chose to do with it.
And Adonis had made his choice.