The Adventurers' Guild of Aramore was a fortress of stone and oak, buzzing with the noise of dozens of voices the moment Suho and Lira stepped inside. The smell of roasted meat, ale, and ink from scribes filled the air. Quest boards stretched along the walls, each nailed with parchment contracts, while a massive chandelier of enchanted crystals illuminated the bustling hall.
Copper-ranked adventurers bargained for escort jobs. Silver ranks compared scars and downed mugs of ale. And the rare Gold ranks sat apart, cloaked in quiet confidence, their weapons gleaming as sharp as their eyes.
But today, the hall quieted when Lira and Suho walked in. Or rather, when people noticed the faint glow still lingering around Suho's hands.
"Is that—?" someone whispered.
"No, it can't be. Light magic doesn't exist anymore."
"Look at him… just a rookie."
The whispers followed them as they walked past, though Suho kept his head down. His chest still ached from the night before, and though the glow had faded, he could feel the strange warmth lingering, like sunlight trapped under his skin.
At the back of the hall, the Guildmaster's office loomed, guarded by thick wooden doors bound with steel. Two armored adventurers nodded them through after Lira presented the sealed parchment from the cult site.
Inside, the Guildmaster sat behind a desk carved from black oak, his shoulders broad as a bear's, his beard streaked with silver. His name was Garrick Ironmantle, a dwarf said to have once slain a dragon in his youth. His eyes, sharp and dark, flicked from Lira to Suho.
"You're late," he said gruffly.
Lira bowed her head. "The mission… took a turn. We encountered cultists, sir. They were performing shadow-binding rites by the river."
Garrick's brow furrowed. "Cultists. I knew it. The old shadows are stirring again." His eyes narrowed. "And the villagers?"
"Safe, for now," Lira said. "But it wasn't us alone. Suho…"
She glanced at him, silently urging him forward.
Suho swallowed hard. "During the fight… something happened. I—I manifested magic."
Garrick leaned forward. "Magic? What kind?"
Suho hesitated, then raised his hand. A faint shimmer of light flickered across his palm, casting a soft glow across the office. It wasn't as radiant as last night, but it was there. Real.
The Guildmaster froze. His cigar slipped from his mouth, landing forgotten on the desk. For a long, heavy silence, the only sound was the crackle of the fireplace.
"By the gods," Garrick finally muttered. "Light magic."
---
A Dangerous Secret
The Guildmaster rose from his chair, pacing the room. "This is… unprecedented. Do you realize, boy, what you've done? What you are?"
Suho clenched his fists. "I don't understand it myself. It just… happened."
"Light magic vanished two hundred years ago when the Goddess of Light disappeared from the world," Garrick said, his voice sharp. "Not a trace has surfaced since. Until now."
Lira stepped forward. "Guildmaster, if the cultists learn of this—"
"They already suspect," Garrick cut in, his tone grim. "If they were performing shadow rites, they'll feel the clash of Light. They'll hunt him. And if the Empire learns of it…" He slammed a fist onto the desk. "There will be no peace for the boy. He'll be a pawn. A weapon."
Suho's stomach knotted. "Then what do I do?"
Garrick studied him with an intensity that made Suho want to shrink into the floor. Then, after a long silence, the dwarf's tone softened. "You survive. You grow stronger. And you don't breathe a word of this outside these walls."
Lira frowned. "But hiding it—"
"Hiding it is the only reason he'll live long enough to choose his own path," Garrick snapped.
Suho lowered his gaze, his mind racing. He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't wanted to stand out. All he wanted was to survive, maybe climb the ranks, maybe find his place. But fate had thrown him into the storm.
"Listen, boy," Garrick said firmly. "If you wish to continue as an adventurer, you'll have to work twice as hard as anyone else. You'll rise through the ranks like all others—Iron, Copper, Silver, Gold. But you must do so without revealing too much. Only a few of us will know."
"And if the cultists come for him?" Lira asked.
"Then we deal with them in the shadows," Garrick replied. His eyes shifted back to Suho. "Do you have the resolve for this, boy? Once you take this road, there's no turning back."
Suho thought of the villagers' faces, the missing children, the way the cultists' chants had filled the night air with dread. He thought of the barrier of light that had shielded Lira from a fatal strike.
He lifted his head. "I do."
---
Training Grounds
The days that followed were grueling. Garrick didn't waste time.
If Suho was to keep his secret, he needed control. The Guildmaster personally oversaw his training in the underground arena beneath the Guildhall, a stone chamber echoing with the clang of weapons and the roar of enchanted dummies.
"Again!" Garrick barked.
Suho raised his sword, sweat dripping down his forehead. He swung hard at the armored training dummy, his blade ringing against steel. As he struck, the warmth inside him pulsed, light flickering along the edge of his weapon.
The sword blazed with a faint golden glow, and when it connected, the dummy staggered backward as if struck by an unseen force.
Suho staggered too, nearly losing his grip. "I—I can't hold it for long."
"Control comes with practice," Garrick said. "Light is raw, unyielding. You must channel it, not let it consume you."
Lira often sat on the sidelines, watching his progress, offering healing when the strain became too much. Sometimes she smiled at his determination, sometimes she looked worried, as though carrying a secret of her own.
Between training sessions, Suho still took on missions—bandit camps, wolf packs, escorting merchants. Slowly, his name began to spread among Copper ranks. He was no longer the quiet rookie. He was the adventurer who fought harder than anyone else, who always came back alive.
But rumors followed him too.
"Did you see his sword glow?"
"Just a trick of the torchlight, surely."
"No rookie moves like that."
Suho ignored them, focusing on growing stronger. But deep down, he knew his secret couldn't stay hidden forever.
---
The Silver Trial
Weeks passed. The day of the Silver Rank trial arrived.
The Guildhall was packed with adventurers, all buzzing with excitement. Silver Rank wasn't easy to achieve—it marked the difference between a hopeful and a true professional. Only a handful succeeded each season.
"Suho Kim," Garrick called.
Suho stepped forward, his heart hammering. He wore his simple leather armor, his sword at his side. Lira gave him a reassuring nod from the crowd.
The trial was simple in design but brutal in execution: survive against enchanted constructs in the arena. Each construct was forged with magic to mimic real opponents—stronger, faster, smarter than beasts or bandits.
When the gates opened, three constructs marched out, their stone bodies glowing with runes, their blades gleaming in the torchlight.
Suho gripped his sword. The warmth inside him stirred, eager, waiting.
The first construct charged. Suho dodged, his blade flashing, sparks flying as steel met stone. He rolled, slashed, parried—his movements sharper than weeks before, honed by Garrick's training.
But the constructs pressed harder, their strikes relentless. One's blade nicked his side, drawing blood. Suho grit his teeth, sweat pouring down his face.
"Control it," he muttered to himself.
The warmth surged. His blade glowed faintly, just enough to add force to his strikes. Stone cracked under his blows, the constructs staggering. The crowd gasped as he moved with surprising speed and precision.
Finally, with a shout, Suho drove his glowing blade through the chest of the last construct. The rune faded, and the arena fell silent.
Then, the hall erupted in cheers.
Garrick stood from his seat. "By the authority of the Adventurers' Guild, I declare Suho Kim—Silver Rank Adventurer!"
The roar shook the walls.
Suho stood in the arena, panting, his chest swelling with something more than pride. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.
But as he sheathed his blade, a shadow flickered at the edge of his vision. A figure cloaked in black stood at the far corner of the hall, watching him. When Suho blinked, the figure was gone.
And deep in his chest, the whisper came again.
They are coming.
---
End of Chapter 12