Chapter 20: The Grind
The trip back to Oak Haven was a breeze compared to the chaotic sprint that had brought me to this world.
With Bee calmly manning the driver's bench and guiding Fenris down the King's Highway, Aria and I were free to focus on our own work. Down in the carriage's living area, Aria was in her element, completely surrounded by the hundreds of half-finished blueprints we had brainstormed. She spent the entire day refining the chaotic sketches of the Ark Angel into precise, mathematically sound arcane schematics.
I spent the ride on the roof.
Standing on top of the moving carriage, I put Azazel through the paces. In scythe mode, the weapon was an absolute dream. I practiced the sweeping, momentum-based forms Vael had drilled into me, letting the centrifugal force of the heavy crescent blade carry my body through the rotations. The Azarath core hummed in my hands, the crystalline veins absorbing the kinetic shock and keeping the weapon perfectly balanced. I didn't even need to use my lightning; just feeling the physical mechanics of the weapon was enough to let me know I had built a masterpiece.
When we finally rolled back through the massive gates of Oak Haven, we headed straight for the Adventurer's Guild.
Turning in the quest was incredibly satisfying. The Merchants' Consortium representative practically drooled over the high-grade Crystalline Ore we unloaded. We met their quota easily, collected our copper coins, and, best of all, kept a massive surplus of the crystal for Aria's future modifications to the carriage.
And with that first success, the real work began. We settled into the grind.
For the next four weeks, our lives became a calculated routine of blood, sweat, and ink.
Mornings were for the arena. I stepped back onto the training floor with Vael, but this time, I wasn't holding a dead piece of wood. With Azazel in my hands, the dynamic shifted. I learned how to use the weapon's transformation mid-combat, snapping the blade out to catch her guard, or collapsing it back into the raven to launch aerial distractions. I was still getting my share of bruises, but by the third week, I was finally making the dark elf work for her hits.
Across the room, Aria was becoming a terrifying force of nature. Under the Arms Master's guidance, she had mastered the pivot-and-strike mechanics of her iron war hammer, turning her halfling stature into a low-center-of-gravity wrecking ball.
Afternoons were for the Quest Board. We stuck to the immediate perimeter of Oak Haven, systematically clearing out Copper-rank bounties. We hunted packs of Corrupted timber-wolves, cleared out infested ruins, and gathered rare alchemical roots. It wasn't glamorous, but it was a steady, relatively safe combat experience.
Weekends were spent in the lecture halls, finishing up the mandatory Adventurer Classes to make sure we truly understood the survival mechanics, politics, and monster ecology of Alteria.
Slowly, day by day, we refined our combat synergy and finalized our grand engineering plans for the Ark Angel.
By the time a full month had passed, the results of the grind were undeniable. I felt it the moment I woke up on the final day of our classroom training. The ambient mana in my body felt denser, heavier, and completely under my control. I had comfortably hit Level 7.
I wasn't the only one making strides. Bee and Fenris, acting as our primary heavy-hitters during the afternoon hunts, had both grown stronger, their metal chassis looking even more refined. But the biggest jumps came from the newest members of the team. Thanks to our intense daily schedule, both Aria and Azazel had rapidly climbed to Level 5.
That afternoon, we walked out of our final classroom lecture and stepped into the bustling main lobby of the Guild. I didn't even glance at the Copper section of the Quest Board. I walked right past the wall of parchment, charting a direct path through the crowd, and came to a stop right in front of the main obsidian reception desk.
The same stoic receptionist from our first day looked up from her ledger, an eyebrow raised.
"We want a Rank-Up quest," I said, leaning against the counter.
Aria stepped up beside me, the heavy iron head of her war hammer resting easily on the stone floor with a dull thud. Azazel remained perched on my shoulder, his glowing blue optics whirring as he analyzed the room.
The receptionist didn't immediately dismiss us. She held out her hand. "Cards."
Aria and I placed our Copper-ranked cards on the brass scanner plate. It flashed once, bringing up our Guild history. The woman's eyes scanned the glowing text, her expression shifting from bored to mildly impressed.
"Thirty days of consistent, daily Copper-tier clears," she noted, her quill scratching across a new piece of parchment. "No failed bounties, perfect material retrieval, and you've both completed the mandatory classroom orientations. You meet the prerequisites."
She reached beneath the desk and pulled out a heavy folder bound in dark leather, sliding a single, thick piece of parchment across the obsidian counter. It didn't have the standard Guild seal; it had a dark, heavy iron stamp pressed into the wax.
"Rank-Up quests are not chosen from the board," she explained, her tone turning entirely professional. "They are assigned by the Guild to test specific survival and combat metrics. You are no longer just gathering herbs or clearing out cellar pests. If you want the Iron emblem—if you want to be officially recognized as a fully capable adventurer—you have to prove you can handle the weight."
I looked down at the parchment.
"A Corrupted Iron-Tusk Boar," Aria read, leaning over my arm. "A heavily armored, territorial beast. They are notorious for shattering the weapons of rookie Adventurers and flipping merchant caravans. It has claimed a section of the logging roads to the east."
"Exactly," the receptionist said. "Bring back its primary core and its un-shattered tusks, and you earn your Iron ranks. Fail, and you'll be barred from taking the exam again for another month. Assuming you survive the attempt."
I picked up the heavy parchment, a familiar, adrenaline-fueled grin spreading across my face. I looked at Aria, then tapped the metal beak of the silver raven on my shoulder.
"Looks like we're having bacon for dinner," I said.
Aria rolled her eyes, but I could see the fierce determination burning in them.