Julian leaned against the guildhall wall, his cloak torn and his spoon slightly bent from the previous dungeon adventure. Mud, blood, and something that might've been goblin snot clung to his boots. The moment he stepped inside, everyone stared.
He smiled and waved awkwardly.
"Hi. Not dead. Barely."
[You say that like it's an achievement.]
Lira walked in behind him, somehow looking only mildly rumpled, despite having crawled through a stone trap and launched a dozen fireballs. She adjusted her belt and headed straight for the receptionist.
The same crimson-haired woman from their registration sat behind the desk. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Julian.
"Back already?"
"Yup. Two goblins, one glowing death orb, and a very angry hallway."
He slapped his slightly cracked guild card onto the desk.
The receptionist picked it up and examined the cracks.
"You survived Floor One of the Trial Tower?"
"Is that what it's called? I called it 'Magical Doom Box.'"
[Not inaccurate.]
"Anyway," Julian continued, "I didn't scream more than four times. That's progress."
The receptionist sighed, reached under the counter, and pulled out a stamp. With a solid *thunk*, she pressed it onto his card.
"Congratulations. You're now officially Bronze Rank."
Julian blinked. "Wait, that's it? No ceremony? No music? No enchanted confetti?"
"You get a badge."
She handed him a dull copper pin shaped like a sword stabbed into a rock.
He turned to Lira. "This doesn't exactly scream hero."
Lira shrugged. "It screams peasant with a good day."
Julian pinned it to what remained of his cloak.
[Your power level remains the same. But your social standing has increased by 2.7%.]
"I'll take it."
They moved to the job board. Dozens of quests were pinned to the wooden planks—some written in messy scrawl, others in neat calligraphy. Julian skimmed through the listings.
"'Help Old Man With Cabbage Theft.' That sounds like an anime filler episode."
[Possibly a trap. Cabbages are statistically involved in 18% of low-level quest disasters.]
"'Missing Cat – May Be a Demon.' Nope. Hard pass."
Lira tapped one.
"This one. Escort a supply cart to Pine Hollow. Pays five silver, two days' walk."
"Walking? Ugh."
[You need coin. And credibility. And exercise.]
"I get it, I get it. Let's go help capitalism."
They accepted the quest and exited the guild. The cart was waiting by the eastern gate, guarded by a nervous-looking man in leather armor and a wide-brimmed hat.
"You the escort team?" the man asked, eyeing them up and down.
Julian gestured to Lira. "She's the firepower. I'm the sarcasm."
They set out along the dirt road, the cart creaking behind them. Trees lined the path, and birds chirped in the distance.
For about an hour, things were suspiciously peaceful.
Then something rustled in the bushes.
Julian reached for his spoon. "I hate that sound."
Out of the underbrush, a small group of bandits emerged. Scruffy, mismatched armor, wicked grins.
"Well now," the leader said, "what do we have here?"
"Trouble," Lira said, cracking her knuckles.
Julian raised the spoon. "Can I at least try diplomacy?"
[This should be entertaining.]
"Gentlemen," Julian said, stepping forward, "we're humble travelers, low on silver, but rich in deadly magical experience and poor decision-making. If you value your knees, I'd reconsider."
The bandits laughed.
The leader stepped forward—only to get blasted in the chest by Lira's firebolt. He flew backward into a tree.
The others looked unsure.
Julian aimed his spoon. "Mind Pulse!"
A wave of pressure hit the nearest bandit, knocking his helmet clean off. He ran.
The rest followed.
"Well," Julian said, dusting off his cloak, "I'd say that went rather well."
[Your diplomacy rating remains catastrophically low.]
The cart driver peeked out from behind the wagon. "That... was amazing."
Julian grinned. "Welcome to the Bronze Rank experience."
They continued on toward Pine Hollow, with fewer trees and far more confidence.
[One step closer to not being a total
failure.]
"I'll take it."