The Iron Vanguard guild building was a three-story structure made of stone and timber. It had a professional appearance—well-maintained, with the guild's emblem—an iron shield with crossed swords—displayed prominently above the entrance.
"This is just our Mashlow branch," Kenneth explained as they approached. "The main guild headquarters is in Ashfall, in the state of Ashenhall, but the branch here handles most of the operations around these parts and beyond. "
"Ashenhall, huh? You seem to know quite a lot about the guild." Yamamoto remarked, not surprised at this point if Kenneth was actually connected to some higher up in the guild.
Ashenhall was a powerful militaristic state within the Dragnok Kingdom—arguably one of the strongest powers in the southern region where the game had been set. It had a reputation for producing elite warriors and maintaining strict martial discipline. The game's story had involved multiple major questlines tied to Ashenhall.
The only rival to Ashenhall's power in the south was Brimrock, a border state to the west that specialized in defensive fortifications and had its own distinct military culture.
The game map had never included the northern part of the kingdom—that content had apparently been planned for future expansions that never materialized. Thinking of it, Yamamoto found himself curious about what lay beyond the boundaries of his knowledge.
They reached the doors and entered the building, and almost immediately, two young men spotted Kenneth, he was the first to step in.
"Kenny boy! You're back!" one of them called out—a stocky warrior with a shaved head and a broad grin.
"And you brought a friend!" the other added—a leaner man with a roguish look. "Wait, is that a new recruit?" He asked, his smile fading a bit, if only slightly.
"Please tell me you brought us a girl this time," the stocky one said dramatically. "We desperately need female members. This guild is a total sausage fest."
"Seriously," the lean one agreed. "Every time Kenneth recruits someone, it's another dude. We need balance! Cute girls! Beautiful women! Someone who doesn't smell like sweat and musk!"
Kenneth rolled his eyes. "Ignore them, Odinson. This is Markus and Reed—they're idiots."
"Charming idiots," Markus corrected.
"Desperately single idiots," Reed added with a theatrical sigh.
Yamamoto couldn't help but crack a small smile. The casual atmosphere was unexpected. In his mind, guilds had always been serious, formal organizations. This felt more like... a dysfunctional family.
"Come on," Kenneth said, leading Yamamoto past the common area where several other guild members were lounging, eating, or reviewing quest postings. "Let's go meet the branch head."
They climbed to the second floor and approached a door marked "Branch Administration." Kenneth knocked, and a voice from within called, "Enter."
As they entered the office, Yamamoto was surprised to see the interior. For once, the table was not covered with paperwork and unfinished business… very suspicious, this leader was actually hard working it appeared.
Behind the desk sat a man in his early forties with a powerful build, graying hair, and intelligent eyes. He wore simple robes rather than armor, which seemed odd given his physique, but considering he was in his office and not in a dungeon, it didn't appear all too weird.
"Kenneth," the man greeted warmly. "Back from your expedition already? I trust it went well?"
"Very well, Tormund. Cleared the Whispering Caves and got pretty good haul." Kenneth said before gesturing to Yamamoto. "I brought someone I'd like you to meet. This is Odinson, a Swordsman. He's level 8, and just registered today. He's... exceptionally skilled. We cleared the dungeon as a duo, and he did most of the work… I bet he wasn't even level 8 then."
Tormund's eyes shifted to Yamamoto, and there was a weight to that gaze, he certainly had seena lot of talents in his years, he couldn't be surprised.
"Odinson," Tormund said, standing and extending his hand.
They shook hands—Tormund's grip was firm but not aggressive. After a firm handshake, he gestured. "Please, sit." and they took seats in front of the desk.
"Kenneth mentioned you're a Mage," Yamamoto said, noting it as Kenneth had emphasized the fact earlier, as if it was significant.
Tormund smiled slightly. "I am. Does that surprise you?"
"A bit. You look more like a Warrior."
Saying that, Yamamoto noted a slight shift in Tormund's expression that only lasted briefly, a micro shift in his expression. 'Was that the wrong remark?'
"I trained as one in my youth, but magic called to me." Tormund's expression became more serious. "Kenneth says you're a Swordsman. Where did you train? Which sword school?"
The question caught Yamamoto off-guard. "I'm... self-taught, actually."
Tormund's eyebrows rose, and he exchanged a glance with Kenneth, then he sighed heavily. "Self-taught, huh? Of course you are."
"Is that a problem?" Yamamoto asked, a bit defensive.
"Don't you know?" Tormund asked as though expecting Yamamoto to know the reason.
"Well, no. This is my first time in a city, so…" Yamamoto didn't conclude or give off too much, allowing Tormund to fill in the blank as his imagination allowed.
"I see. Well, it is not a problem, exactly. Just... limiting." Tormund leaned back in his chair. "Maybe this might be a good time for you. Let me explain something about how classes work—something you might not fully understand yet. Classes aren't just labels. They represent specializations, disciplines with established traditions and accumulated knowledge."
He held up a hand, counting off on his fingers. "There're Warriors—classes like Brawlers, Martial Artists, Berserkers—they focus on unarmed combat, body cultivation, physical conditioning. Weapon Specialists—Swordsmen, Archers, Spearmen, Axe Masters, and so on—they dedicate themselves to mastering specific weapons. Mages encompass spell users: traditional Mages, Elementalists, Summoners, Necromancers. Each category has its own training methodologies, its own accumulated wisdom, so on and so forth."
Yamamoto absorbed this information carefully. In the game, classes had been much simpler, and he was even hearing of some classes he wasn't exactly familiar with, and even a few hidden classes.
"Swordsmen fall under Weapon Specialists," Tormund continued. "And here's the thing about weapon mastery: it requires guidance. Proper technique, correction of bad habits, exposure to different styles and forms, all those stuff weapon specialists have to deal with. Honestly don't know why people choose those classes. Anyway, all this just means, while a self-taught swordsman can certainly become competent through natural talent and hard work, without formal training, you'll hit a ceiling. Your growth will plateau, and most times, sooner than later."
"I've managed so far," Yamamoto said.
"At level 8, sure. But what about level 20? Level 40? When you're facing opponents who've trained under masters, who know advanced techniques you've never even heard of?" Tormund's tone wasn't condescending, just matter-of-fact. "You'll find yourself outmatched by people with lower stats but superior skill and technique, and trust me, that's most often the case."