Kerina stared at her sword, then at my bare chest, her mind refusing to accept the result. "Impossible," she muttered, her professional pride clearly wounded. "It must have been a fluke. A bad angle."
She raised her sword again.
"Wait, what are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising in panic.
Clang!
She struck me again, this time with the flat of the blade. The impact reverberated through the room, but my skin remained flawless.
"It has to cut!" she said through gritted teeth.
Ting! Clank! Thwack!
She began to strike me again and again in a flurry of frustrated attacks, switching between the edge and the flat of the blade. Each hit produced a clean, metallic ring, as if she were striking a statue.
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I yelled, backing away and trying to shield myself with my arms. "We proved the point! I'm durable! Stop hitting me!"
From behind his desk, Guild Master Valerius watched the spectacle of one of his finest adventurers frantically beating on an unkillable man who was yelling for her to stop. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out the long, weary sigh of someone whose job had become far too strange.
"Stop."
The Guild Master's voice wasn't a shout, but it carried an absolute authority that cut through the chaos instantly. Kerina froze, her sword held mid-swing. I stopped trying to back away, my panicked shouts dying in my throat. The room fell silent, the only sound the faint ringing from the last impact of steel against my skin.
Valerius stood up, his face a mask of weary finality. He looked at Kerina. "Sheathe your sword. Your methods are... ineffective."
She did so immediately, her face flushed with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.
He then turned his gaze to me, and then to the Guild Card still sitting on his desk. "A blood signature is clearly impossible," he stated. "This case requires an unorthodox solution."
He walked around the desk, a faint, powerful aura of golden mana beginning to glow around his hand. "Therefore, for your registration, I will use my own mana as the binding signature. It will officially tie this card to you, and to me."
Kerina's eyes went wide with shock at his declaration. "Master Valerius, are you certain?" she asked, her voice hesitant. "Is that even allowed? His card would be bound by your mana, even with his name on it."
She looked from the Guild Master to me, a deep concern in her eyes. "The implications of a Guild Master's direct binding... the status it would confer upon him... is that wise for a complete unknown?"
So, this isn't just a signature, I thought, watching the exchange. It's a political statement. A mark of direct sponsorship from the top. This is a very big deal.
Valerius did not waver. "It is not a question of wisdom, Kerina. It is a question of necessity," he stated, his voice final. "A man who repels your blade and is personally blessed by an angel cannot be left undocumented, nor can he be registered as a simple commoner. This is the only logical path."
Without another word, he pressed his glowing hand onto the metallic card. There was a brilliant flash of golden light that filled the room, and the hum of immense power. When the light faded, he lifted his hand. The registration was complete.
Valerius gave a final, dismissive nod, and Kerina led me out of the office, the heavy oak door closing behind us. We walked back into the noisy main hall of the Guild. I looked down at the cool, metallic card in my hand. It was blank except for my name and the Guild's crest, which seemed to shimmer with a faint golden light from the Guild Master's mana.
"So," I said to Kerina, holding up the card. "I'm officially an adventurer. I assume I start at F-Rank?" I looked from the card to her. "What's the first step? What do I do now?"
Kerina glanced at the massive quest board on the far wall, covered in fluttering pieces of parchment, and scoffed.
"If you want to rank up easily, you don't do the easy jobs," she said, her voice sharp and practical. "We're not going to be delivering letters or gathering herbs from the woods. That takes years."
She met my gaze, a fierce, competitive light in her eyes. "You want to get stronger and build a reputation? You punch above your weight. We're going to be hunting. We'll start with Goblins, move on to Dire Wolves, and if you can handle it, we'll find something worse."
Hearing her list of classic starter monsters, a strange thought crossed my mind. Goblins and Dire Wolves. It sounds exactly like the tutorial area of every fantasy game I ever ignored. I let out a quiet, internal sigh. I really wish I'd played more of those MMORPGs back in the day.
"This 'we' you're talking about," I asked, pulling myself back to the present. "Does that mean you'll be helping me on these hunts? You're not just going to point me towards a goblin cave and wish me luck, are you?"
She gave a firm nod. "Of course. You're under my sponsorship; your failure is my failure." Her expression then turned sharp and dismissive. "But not now. I have other business to attend to. And you need to go."
She pointed towards the exit of the Guild hall. "Stay out of trouble. Your mmission begins tomorrow."
I gave a simple nod and watched as she turned and strode towards the doors of the Guild. She was just about to push one open when she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned back around, a rare, awkward laugh escaping her.
"Right," she said, walking back towards me and reaching into a small pouch at her belt. "Almost forgot. You can't familiarize yourself with the city if you're broke."
She pulled out three large, gleaming gold coins and pressed them into my hand. They felt heavy.
"This is an advance on your future earnings," she explained. "It should be more than enough for a week's worth of food and other necessities, as long as you're not foolish with it."
With that, she turned and left for good. I looked down at the three gold coins in my palm.
A week's food. She said it so definitively.That implies a predictable cost of living. The currency in this kingdom must be relatively stable.
It was another crucial piece of data for my mental model of this world.
As she reached the door, I called out, "Kerina."
She paused, looking back over her shoulder.
"Thank you," I said, my voice sincere.
She just gave a single, dismissive wave and pushed the door open, disappearing into the crowded street.
Now truly alone, I pocketed the heavy gold coins and my new Guild Card. My mission was clear. I left the noisy hall, stepping back out into the bright afternoon sun of the capital city. It was time for some proper reconnaissance. I began to walk, not aimlessly, but with purpose, my eyes scanning everything. I observed the price of bread at a bakery, the cost of a simple iron shortsword at a blacksmith's stall, the quality of the clothes people wore, and the layout of the city's main streets. I was a consultant in a new market, and my first task was to understand the system from the ground up.
I spent the rest of the day walking, my mind a ledger of prices, street names, and observations. By the time the sun began to dip low, casting long afternoon shadows, I had a functional, if basic, understanding of the capital's layout. It was then that I saw it.
Tucked between a traditional armorer and an ancient-looking bookstore was a storefront that was conspicuously new. My strategic mind immediately flagged it as an anomaly. For hours, I had seen only specialists: a shop for swords, a shop for potions, a shop for leather goods. But the sign on this one read 'Wanderer's Pantry,' and its wide window displayed a little bit of everything: a few daggers, some healing potions, travel cloaks, and even sacks of flour.
A general store, I realized. A convenience store. A completely new business model for this place.
I moved closer. The shop wasn't large, but it was clean and well-organized. A man who looked to be the owner stood in the doorway, his face a mixture of a hopeful smile and deep-set exhaustion.
"Welcome, traveler!" he called out as I approached, his voice full of practiced enthusiasm. "Come in, have a look! This is the finest new establishment in Eldoria, I guarantee it! We're an all-in-one! Why walk for kilometers to find what you need when you can get it all right here?"
I stepped inside, my eyes not on the goods, but on the business model itself. "It's an interesting concept," I said, my voice thoughtful. "Is this type of 'all-in-one' store new around here?"
The vendor's tired face lit up with a spark of recognition. "Hah! New is an understatement," he said with a weary chuckle. "You're the first person to look at it like that. Everyone else thinks I'm a fool for stocking such a variety. They all say it's a waste of coin to have inventory that might not sell in a short time."
He leaned on his counter. "Too much risk, they say."
I listened, my corporate brain processing the information instantly. A market gap. A conservative business culture. An innovative model with cash-flow problems. This wasn't just a shop; it was an opportunity.
My demeanor shifted. I was no longer a simple traveler. I leaned forward, my voice low and serious. "I have a proposal for you. And it has nothing to do with buying a waterskin."
The vendor looked at me, confused.
"Would you be willing to review a formal paper of investment?" I asked, my tone as sharp as if I were in a boardroom. "In exchange for a stake in your business?"
The vendor just stared at me, his welcoming smile frozen on his face, his expression one of pure, dumbfounded shock.
To Be Continued.