The guards at Bellenridge didn't spare him more than a glance.
A dozen travelers passed through the gates that morning—traders in dust-stained cloaks, hunters hauling deer carcasses, and a robed merchant with glassy eyes and a lizard curled around his neck.
Rei kept his hood low, his steps purposeful.
Walk like you belong. Don't look back.
That was the first rule of surviving unnoticed.
Name used: Kael.
Not Rei. Not the name etched into his old life.
This one was sharp. Disposable. Safe.
He made his way to the guild.
A two-story timber hall stood at the center of town, its outer beams marked with faded banners—a sword and flame carved in bronze.
Inside: warmth, noise, the scent of stew and spiced wood.
A hearth crackled at the center.
Adventurers nursed bruises and bread alike.
And behind the reception counter stood a woman with silver eyes and a clipboard, unimpressed by the world.
Rei approached the desk.
She didn't look up. "New to town?"
He nodded. "Looking to register."
"Age?"
"Twelve." He lied.
She finally glanced at him, raised one eyebrow, and shrugged. "Not the youngest. Can you read and write?"
"Yes."
"Prior guild affiliation?"
"No."
"Name?"
He took a minute.
"Kael. Kael …Ashen."
She squinted at him.
Then scribbled the name down without further comment.
"Here's the test."
She handed over a parchment—ten questions: basic literacy, monster ID, emergency codes.
Rei scanned it quickly. Some questions were guesswork. Others, instinct. The rest… memories.
When she checked the paper, she gave a short nod.
"You pass. Bronze Tier—Provisional. Solo quests with green seals only. You can group up under supervision."
She handed him a carved wooden tag.
[ Kael Ashen — Bellenridge Chapter — Bronze (Provisional) ]
"Orientation's upstairs in twenty minutes. If you're late, you scrub floors."
Rei sat on the staircase, staring down at the tag in his hand.
It wasn't real.
The name. The role. The place.
But it was a start.
A place to move forward from.
A name that made him feel he could walk through this world.
He clenched his fist around the tag, then headed up.
Guild Orientation
The room was plain: benches, chalkboard, lanterns flickering with low mana light. Eight new adventurers had gathered—some fidgeting, others trying to act tough.
The instructor stood at the front.
Gruff. Tired. Built like a man who'd stopped dodging death years ago.
"Name's Derrin. Silver-ranked explorer. Retired. Don't ask how I lost the leg."
He pointed at his wooden prosthetic.
"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. You're Bronze now, which means you're expendable. Listen close and maybe you'll make it to Iron."
Then he began the lecture.
"There are seven continents. There were eight. One sank. Leviathan problem. Don't ask."
"Each continent has its own power structure. Empires, guild unions, royal bloodlines. Most of you will never leave Varell unless you become rich, reckless, or cursed."
"Magic comes in types—Elemental, Ritual, Bound, Contractual… and then there's the one no one talks about… I wont mention it."
Rei blinked.
Derrin scratched his beard.
"Alright Alright, it's Worldbreaker-tier stuff. Last one we know of destroyed a sky fortress just by waking up. That's all youll get out of me."
The room fell silent.
A girl in the back whispered, "But that was just a legend…"
Derrin snorted.
"Sure. And demons are bedtime stories."
Rei's fingers dug into the bench.
Other Worldbreakers?
Now?
After Orientation
Rei stayed after class, playing the part of a curious recruit.
"Which countries have the most active adventuring routes?"
"How does the guild track class trees?"
"Are there… records of historical class anomalies?"
Derrin answered vaguely. Wary but not suspicious.
But two answers stuck with him:
"Every decade or so, someone shows up who doesn't match any tree. Not summoned. Not blessed. Just… wrong. Most vanish. Some get hunted."
And:
"If anyone ever offers you a quest with a Black Sigil—turn around. That means something old woke up."
That night, Rei sat alone in the attic of a half-empty inn, staring at the stars through a narrow window.
His tag lay warm in his hand.
Not because of magic.
Because it meant something.
He wasn't alone anymore. Not in the existential sense.
Somewhere in this world—on this continent or another—others like him had existed.
Some may even still be alive.
Maybe weaker. Maybe stronger. Maybe hunted.
Maybe… waiting.
If they could walk freely... then so could I.
He didn't know what the world would do with him next.
But for the first time since he'd left Halden...
He was ready to step into it.