Chapter 3
The town of Brunhilde was bustling with life. Merchants hawked wares on the cobbled streets, children darted between carriages, and adventurers in gleaming armor boasted loudly of their latest victories.
Aria had never liked towns. The noise, the stares, the constant whispers—they always made her feel like an outsider. But today, she had no choice.
She stood before a tall wooden building, its stone walls adorned with banners depicting swords and shields: The Adventurer's Guild.
Beside her, Fenrir padded silently, his fur gleaming white as snow. The wolf's sheer size drew gasps and fearful glances from passersby. Some crossed the street to avoid them. Others muttered under their breath.
"Is that… the White Wolf?"
"No way. If it were, this town wouldn't even exist."
"Still… look at its eyes. That thing isn't normal."
Aria lowered her gaze, clutching the strap of her worn leather bag. She had grown used to whispers, but they still stung.
"Don't listen," Fenrir's voice rumbled in her mind. "They are blind to truth. You need not prove yourself to them."
"…Maybe," Aria murmured, forcing her legs to move. "But I still need to register. If I want to grow stronger, this is the only path."
Pushing open the heavy doors, she entered the guild hall.
The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and sweat. Adventurers laughed around long tables, slamming mugs together. Quest boards covered the far wall, plastered with papers ranging from lost-cat requests to high-level monster hunts.
And at the front desk sat a sharp-eyed receptionist, her quill scratching against parchment.
Aria hesitated, feeling every eye turn toward her. Fenrir padded beside her, silent but commanding, and the room grew quiet.
A burly adventurer at a nearby table smirked. "Hey, kid! This ain't a zoo. Leave your mutt outside."
Aria froze, her hand tightening on Fenrir's fur. The wolf's eyes narrowed, cold enough to make the man pale.
"Say it again, and I'll silence him," Fenrir growled within her mind, his fur bristling.
"No," Aria whispered back quickly. "Not here. We can't make enemies yet."
She forced herself to the counter. The receptionist glanced up, her expression polite but wary.
"Name?"
"…Aria," she answered softly.
The woman's eyes flickered to Fenrir, then back to her. "And… that beast?"
Aria straightened her back. "He's not a beast. He's my partner."
The receptionist studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "Very well. If you wish to register, you'll need to undergo a basic assessment. It measures combat potential, magical affinity, and survival aptitude. Standard procedure."
Aria's stomach tightened. She had trained for years with Fenrir, but… combat potential? Magic affinity? She had none.
Still, she nodded. "I'll take it."
The receptionist gestured to a crystal orb on the counter. "Place your hand here."
Aria did as instructed. Light rippled through the crystal, scanning her essence. Adventurers nearby leaned forward, curious.
Then—
Ding.
The orb dimmed almost immediately. A faint message appeared across its surface:
Combat Potential: Low.
Magical Affinity: None.
Survival Aptitude: Unremarkable.
Overall Rank: E—Lowest Possible.
A hush fell over the guild.
An adventurer snorted. "Figures. A weakling."
"Even with a wolf, she won't last a week."
"Dead weight like that gets others killed."
Aria bit her lip, nails digging into her palm. She had expected this… but hearing it aloud still burned.
The receptionist hesitated, then pushed a wooden plate across the desk. "This is your guild card. Rank E. It means you'll only be allowed to take the simplest of quests."
Aria accepted it with trembling fingers.
Fenrir's voice cut through the silence like thunder. "Rankings mean nothing. You are stronger than they will ever know."
Aria managed a small smile. "…Thanks, Fenrir."
But deep inside, she made a vow. One day, she would prove them wrong. She would rise above the whispers, the laughter, the scorn.
And when that day came, the world would know the name Aria, the girl who leveled with the White Wolf.