The road beneath the wheels of the chariot turned from a dusty trail to a more defined path as I ventured towards my destination.

Each mile traversed felt like a step closer to the unknown, the landscape around me slowly changing.

It was whispered among travelers and adventurers alike that the Tower exuded a malefic aura so potent, it caused the very land around it to succumb to decay.

This eerie phenomenon served as an ominous beacon to those seeking the Tower, a sign that their journey was drawing them ever closer to its enigmatic presence.

It was said that the land's gradual withering as one neared the Tower, a stark contrast to the natural beauty that flourished behind me.

Before my approach, the landscape around me was indeed breathtaking. The sunlight bathed the earth in a warm, golden glow, offering a sense of comfort and easing the burdens of travel.

Flower beds in vibrant hues dotted the path, their fragrance and beauty a balm to the soul, uplifting the spirits of all who passed by.

It was a picturesque scene, one that seemed almost too idyllic, given the destination that lay ahead.

Yet, now, as I ventured closer to the Tower, a subtle shift began to make itself known.

The vibrant greenery gradually gave way to patches of land where the earth seemed less fertile, the plants less vigorous.

The once bright and inviting flora started to show signs of distress, their colors dimming, as if the very life was being drained from them.

This gradual transformation was unsettling.

The stark contrast between the thriving beauty of the distant landscape and the encroaching blight near the Tower was a powerful testament to the aura that emanated from it.

It was as if the Tower cast a long shadow, under which nothing could truly thrive.

This shift served as a tangible indicator of my proximity to the Tower, reinforcing the tales I had heard since young.

Despite this, my resolve did not waver. If anything, the changing environment only strengthened my determination to reach the Tower.

As the landscape unfurled before me, transforming from a dense thicket into an immense open field, my sense of anticipation escalated.

This vast expanse, almost bewildering in its scope, sprawled under the sky.

Here, amidst the openness, lay a makeshift society of adventurers, their chariots, tents, and camps dotting the landscape in a chaotic symphony.

It was a place devoid of the usual comforts of civilization—no houses to shelter, no inns to rest—only the flatness of the landscape, the adventurers, and the Tower.

The Tower itself commanded the horizon, an architectural colossus that seemed to defy both physics and imagination.

Even though my journey suggested hours before arriving at its gates, its presence was so monumental, so overpoweringly vast, it felt as if I could reach out and touch it.

Rising into the heavens, piercing the clouds, it was a marvel that seemed to exist in a realm between the earth and the sky. Whispers of history so profound, my mind reeled at the thought of what lay within.

"Incredible," I thought to myself, the sight rendering me momentarily speechless.

The air around was alive with the energy of those gathered, a melting pot of cultures and dreams, all united by the Tower.

The murmur of voices, the clanging of armor, the rustle of maps—each sound was a note of anticipation that filled this place.

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As I advanced through the open path that led towards the Tower, the diversity of those gathered here became even more apparent.

It was a melting pot of individuals from all corners of the world, a vivid tapestry of races, genders and ages all drawn to this singular point.

Humans mingled with elves, dwarves laughed with beastmen, and amongst them, individuals of ages ranging from youthful zeal to seasoned wisdom—all united by the common goal of conquering the Tower.

The occasional shout of someone seeking to form or join a party for the challenges ahead. My ears caught snippets of dialogue, each adventurer pitching their skills and experience in hopes of finding the right companions for their ascent.

"Looking for a party!" a young human called out, her voice carrying over the crowd. "I'm a Level 11 Scout, skilled in trap detection!"

Beside her, a sturdy dwarf, his armor gleaming under the sun, added, "And I'm a Level 18 Marauder. skilled in both offense and defense. Need someone to take the hits and dish 'em back? I'm your dwarf."

Not far from them, an elven archer, lean and poised, scanned the crowd. "Level 25 Archer here, seeking a balanced group."

I paused, listening to these declarations, each adventurer eager to showcase their strengths and experiences.

It was a reminder of the Tower's allure, the way it beckoned to all who sought adventure, knowledge, or glory within its walls.

The variety of classes and levels on display was a testament to the Tower's reputation as a crucible for those brave enough to face its trials.

"So many seeking the same thing," I mused inwardly, “each with their own story, their own reason for being here.”

The closer I drew, the more it appeared the Tower loomed over the landscape.

After another hour of weaving through the sea of adventurers, each step bringing me closer to my destination, I finally stood before the Tower.

The reality of its presence was overwhelming—its sheer scale, the way it pierced the clouds and seemed to touch the very fabric of the sky, was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Up close, the Tower's surface was a labyrinth of intricate carvings. The stones themselves seemed to hum with a latent power, as if the Tower was alive.

Standing at its base, I felt a profound sense of insignificance.

Adjacent to the Tower, contrasting starkly with its ancient grandeur, stood a solitary building—the first sign of a human made structure I had encountered since arriving here.

Its design was practical, with sturdy wooden beams and stone foundations that spoke of durability rather than elegance. The building's sign, large and unmissable, read "Adventurers' Guild."

The Adventurers' Guild was a two-story structure, with wide windows that allowed light to spill onto the bustling interior.

The entrance was flanked by two statues, each depicting a heroic figure in the midst of battle, a tribute to the bravery and spirit of those who dared to explore the Tower.

As I approached, the sound of lively conversation and clinking gear filled the air.

Stepping inside, I was greeted by the sight of a well-organized space, walls lined with notice boards teeming with quests and lists of items for trade or sale.

The air was thick with anticipation and the buzz of adventurers negotiating, planning, or sharing tales of their exploits.

It was clear that the Guild served as the heart of this transient community, a crucial nexus for anyone seeking to make their mark on the Tower.

Making my way through the bustling interior of the Adventurers' Guild, I approached the reception, where a woman greeted me with a practiced smile.

The warmth in her eyes suggested she had welcomed countless hopefuls like me.

"What brings you to the Adventurers' Guild today?" she inquired, her tone friendly yet efficient.

"I wish to become an adventurer," I stated, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement at voicing my intention. "And I also have a few items to sell," I added, remembering the valuables I had 'collected'.

"You've come to the right place. To get started, I'll need you to fill in this registration form. It's standard procedure for all new adventurers." She slid a form across the counter towards me, along with a quill and inkpot.

The form requested basic information—name, age, race, class, and any skills or specialties, thought the last two where optional requests.

Each stroke of the quill felt like a step further away from my old life and deeper into the unknown that lay ahead.

As the receptionist glanced over the filled document, a flicker of surprise crossed her face upon seeing the 'Pyromancer' class listed.

Her eyes briefly lingered on the space where a family name would typically follow my given name, noticing that I had left it blank, providing only "Kaien" without the expected "Kaien Arashi."

For a moment, her expression betrayed a mix of curiosity and confusion; it was uncommon for someone of a notable class such as Pyromancer to omit their family name, especially in a world where lineage often carried significant weight and prestige.

However, her professionalism quickly shone through.

Without voicing the questions that surely danced on the tip of her tongue, she simply nodded, her expression returning to its default state of welcoming efficiency.

"Please, wait here while I process your document." she instructed, her tone as courteous as when I first approached.

Her response, or rather her lack of inquiry into my incomplete name, was a testament to the Guild's tenor.

Here, in this place of new beginnings, what mattered was not one's past or lineage but their present intention and future aspirations.

It was a refreshing encounter, one that underscored the Guild's role as a melting pot for individuals from all walks of life, each seeking to carve their own path, unburdened by the weight of their heritage or the expectations tied to their names.

As she retreated to carry out the necessary procedures, I found myself silently waiting for the process to be completed.