Suho tightened the strap of his worn leather satchel as the first rays of dawn split across the jagged peaks to the east. The air in the frontier town of Gravenmoor always carried a chill, even in late summer. Merchants raised their shutters, guards patrolled lazily after a long night, and adventurers filled the square in anticipation of posted quests. For most, today was simply another day of work. For Suho, it was another step forward.
His boots scuffed against the cobbled stones as he approached the Adventurer's Guild Hall. The building towered above the rest of the town, its banner emblazoned with the sigil of a lion clutching a blade and shield. Inside, the air smelled of smoke, sweat, and parchment. Adventurers lined up before counters where clerks handed out missions: exterminating goblins, escorting merchants, or clearing out corrupted beasts from nearby woods.
Suho slipped past the crowd, keeping his hood low. His hair — silvery-white with a faint blue sheen — always drew attention, and he hated the whispers. "That boy again? The rookie who takes on quests alone? He's lucky he isn't dead yet."
But Suho paid no mind. He headed straight to the quest board, scanning over the parchments pinned to it. His eyes locked on one with crimson ink:
Quest: Purge the Corrupted Den
Rank: Silver-tier Minimum
Objective: Eliminate the mutated direwolves near the Mistwood border.
Reward: 700 silver + materials.
Warning: High casualty risk.
He felt his pulse quicken. Direwolves. Dangerous, yes. But exactly what I need.
"Thinking of killing yourself, rookie?" A rough voice jeered. Suho turned to see a broad-shouldered adventurer leaning against the wall. His armor gleamed bronze, marking him as a Bronze-Rank adventurer, higher than Suho's current Iron-Rank. "That quest isn't for children. Stick to gathering herbs."
Suho didn't answer. He tore the parchment from the board and walked toward the clerk. The hall fell silent for a moment. Murmurs followed:
"He can't be serious."
"Another fool who wants to make a name before the grave takes him."
"Or maybe… he'll surprise us."
---
The Hunt in Mistwood
By midday, Suho trekked through the twisted oaks of Mistwood Forest. Shadows clung to the branches even with the sun high above. The corrupted direwolves stalked here — beasts twisted by lingering remnants of dark magic that seeped into the land centuries ago during Nyxara's betrayal.
His hand brushed the hilt of his short sword. He wasn't fully equipped — his armor was patched leather, his provisions meager — but he had something the others didn't. Deep within his chest pulsed a faint warmth, a whisper of light magic he could barely control. He didn't flaunt it. Not yet.
A growl shattered the silence. Suho turned just in time to see a direwolf lunge from the underbrush, its fur matted with black sludge, its eyes burning red. He rolled aside, the creature's claws raking dirt where he had stood. With practiced speed, Suho slashed at its flank. The blade connected, but the wolf barely flinched.
Another howl echoed. More shadows slithered between the trees. A whole pack.
Suho gritted his teeth. "Perfect."
The battle was chaos. The direwolves circled, darting in and out, their corrupted forms faster and stronger than ordinary beasts. Suho dodged, countered, and moved with desperate precision. His body screamed in protest — one gash across his arm, a bruise blooming on his ribs — but he refused to falter.
Finally, cornered against a fallen log, Suho clenched his hand. The warmth inside him surged. For the first time, he let it out.
"Lumen Pulse!"
A burst of radiant light erupted from his palm, blinding the wolves. They shrieked, staggering back, their corrupted flesh sizzling. Suho seized the opening, driving his blade into the largest wolf's chest. It collapsed with a pitiful whine. The others scattered into the shadows, unwilling to face the boy who wielded light.
Panting, Suho fell to his knees. His vision blurred. The magic drained him almost to collapse, but the den was purged. He had won.
---
Recognition
When Suho dragged the wolf's carcass into the guild hall hours later, bloodied and battered but still standing, silence fell again. The Bronze adventurer who mocked him earlier dropped his mug of ale in shock.
Suho placed the carcass before the clerk, who stared wide-eyed before scribbling furiously. "Completion confirmed…! You— you did it."
The guild master, a grizzled veteran named Darius Crowne, emerged from his office. His sharp eyes examined Suho like one inspects a blade. Finally, a slow grin spread across his scarred face.
"You've got guts, boy," Darius rumbled. "And luck. But I see something more in you… potential. You remind me of the first heroes, the ones who stood when others ran."
The hall erupted into mixed reactions — some scoffing, some clapping, some whispering fearfully.
That night, as Suho nursed his wounds in the guild's quarters, he overheard whispers that would shape his destiny:
"The boy's no ordinary adventurer."
"Light… he used light magic."
"Could it be? Has Lumina not abandoned us after all?"