The first day of my job is over. All I did was clean and serve tables—nothing too demanding. Yet, for some reason, I was paid a whole gold coin. That’s way too much for such a simple job. Either this place is incredibly generous, or something isn’t right.

Let’s just say I won’t be coming back.

Now, what should I do? Well, first, I should probably get my hair cut—it's getting way too long. Second, I need to apply to become an adventurer. If I want to survive in this world, I'll need proper status and recognition. And third, I have to level up and learn more about this place—its people, its dangers, and its secrets.

One step at a time.

I step out of the tavern, stretching as the cool night air washes over me. The streets are still lively—merchants packing up their stalls, drunkards laughing their way home, and street performers finishing their last acts. This city never really sleeps, does it?

First things first—getting a haircut. I glance at my reflection in a shop window. My hair is a tangled mess, reaching past my shoulders. Not exactly the look of a warrior, more like a stray dog. There should be a barber somewhere around here.

As I wander, I catch sight of a small, well-lit shop with a spinning sign outside—scissors and a comb. Perfect. I step inside, and an older man with a thick mustache greets me.

"Looking a little rough, lad. What’ll it be?"

"Short and simple," I reply. "Something practical."

He nods and gets to work. The steady snip of the scissors is oddly calming. After a few minutes, I finally look presentable again—clean, sharp, and ready to take on the world.

With that out of the way, it's time for step two: becoming an adventurer. I ask around and eventually find my way to the Adventurer's Guild, a grand building with banners displaying symbols of different ranks. The inside is bustling—warriors showing off loot, mages discussing quests, and scribes recording achievements.

I approach the front desk, where a bored-looking receptionist glances up at me.

"New recruit?" she asks.

"Yeah. I’d like to register."

She slides a form across the counter. "Fill this out. Basic details—name, skills, weapon of choice. You'll also need to take a simple combat test."

A combat test, huh? Sounds like a good way to gauge my strength. I take the form, fill it out quickly, and hand it back.

"Alright," she says. "Head to the back. The examiner will see you shortly."

I crack my knuckles, a small smirk forming. Time to see where I really stand in this world.

I make my way to the back of the guild, where a large training yard stretches out under the night sky. Torches flicker along the walls, casting shadows on the worn-out dummies and weapon racks. A few adventurers watch from the sidelines, some sharpening their blades, others chatting casually.

At the center of the yard stands a tall, broad-shouldered man with a jagged scar running across his nose. His armor is dented and scratched, a sign that he’s seen plenty of battles. He looks me up and down with a frown, arms crossed.

"You the new guy?" he asks, voice deep and unimpressed.

"Yeah," I reply, rolling my shoulders. "Here for the combat test."

He snorts. "You got a weapon?"

I pull out my so-called weapon—the tiny, unimpressive toothpick labeled C13314. A few of the adventurers snicker when they see it. Someone in the crowd mutters, "Is he serious?"

The examiner raises an eyebrow. "…That’s your weapon?"

I smirk. "You’ll see."

He sighs, rubbing his temples. "Alright, fine. Test is simple—land a clean hit on me. Do that, and you pass."

He draws his own weapon—a massive greatsword that looks like it could cleave a horse in half. He plants his feet, waiting for me to make a move.

I tighten my grip on my toothpick. In the past, I would’ve hesitated. But now? I trust the system.

[Piercing Strike – Activate.]

In an instant, I lunge forward. The moment my weapon makes contact, a powerful force erupts from the tip—faster than the eye can track.

CRACK!

A shockwave bursts through the air. The examiner’s sword shatters at the point of impact, fragments flying in all directions. A deep gash appears in the ground behind him, carved out by the sheer force of my attack.

Silence.

The examiner stares at his broken sword, then at me. His mouth opens, but no words come out. The crowd, which was laughing just seconds ago, is now dead quiet.

I step back, spinning my toothpick casually between my fingers. "That clean enough for you?"

The examiner exhales slowly, then bursts out laughing. "Well, I'll be damned. Welcome to the guild, rookie."

A notification pings in my vision.

[You have been officially registered as an Adventurer.]

[Rank: Iron (Newcomer)]

[+200 EXP]

Looks like step two is complete. Now, onto the real challenge—getting stronger and learning more about this world.

I make my way back to the receptionist’s desk, still feeling the weight of the stunned gazes from the training yard. The moment I step inside, the chatter resumes, but I catch a few whispers about me.

"Did you see that move?"

"What kind of weapon was that?"

"No way a newbie should be that strong!"

I ignore them and approach the receptionist, who barely glances up from her paperwork.

"You passed," she says flatly. "Congrats."

"Thanks," I reply. "Now, I need some info—monsters, quests, and everything else I need to know as an adventurer."

She finally looks up, sighing like I’m asking her to move a mountain. Still, she pulls out a thick, leather-bound book and flips through it before speaking.

"Alright, let’s start with the basics. The Adventurer’s Guild hands out quests based on rank. You’re currently Iron Rank, which means you can only take low-level quests. Stuff like goblin hunting, herb gathering, and escorting merchants."

She slides a piece of parchment toward me, listing available quests:

1. Goblin Extermination – Reward: 5 Silver per ear

2. Collect Healing Herbs – Reward: 8 Silver per bundle

3. Escort a Merchant to Westhill Town – Reward: 1 Gold

I skim the list and nod. "What about monsters? What should I watch out for?"

She taps the book. "In this region, low-level monsters are common—goblins, slimes, and forest wolves. Occasionally, we get reports of bandits. Stronger creatures like ogres and wyverns stay deeper in the wilds. But if you're smart, you won’t go near them until you're at least Silver Rank."

I cross my arms. "And ranking up?"

She sighs. "Adventurers rank up based on performance. Complete quests, contribute to the guild, and prove yourself in battle. Simple enough?"

I nod. "Got it."

I glance at the quest list again. If I want to level up quickly, I need something with combat experience.

"Goblin extermination," I say. "I'll take it."

She shrugs and stamps the paper. "Good luck. Bring back proof—goblin ears, and no fakes."

I take the quest sheet and step outside. The night air feels colder, but my blood is pumping.

Time to get stronger.

With the quest sheet in hand, I step out of the Adventurer’s Guild and into the bustling night streets. My stomach grumbles—a reminder that I haven't eaten since that suspiciously overpaid tavern job.

First things first: food.

I follow the scent of roasted meat and fried spices until I find a street vendor grilling skewers over an open flame. The vendor, a burly man with grease-stained clothes, eyes me as I approach.

"Adventurer, huh?" he says, noticing my guild badge. "You got coin?"

I pull out the gold coin from earlier and slide it across the counter. "Got anything worth this much?"

His eyes widen, but he grins. "For a gold coin? You could buy ten meals."

I smirk. "Then just give me one good one and keep the change."

He whistles, clearly pleased, and hands me a thick skewer stacked with juicy grilled meat and vegetables. The first bite is heavenly—smoky, tender, and rich with seasoning. I finish it in minutes, savoring every bit before wiping my mouth.

"Come back anytime, adventurer," the vendor says, still grinning.

"Maybe," I reply, turning to leave.

Now, it's time to hunt.

The outskirts of the city are darker, quieter. The torches and lanterns of the streets fade behind me as I step into the wilderness. Tall grass rustles in the wind, and the faint glow of fireflies dots the landscape.

I check my status screen.

[Name: Kelvin]

[Class: Former Sergeant (Aerospace Engineer)]

[Level: 10]

[Weapon: C13314 (Mythical)]

[Skills: Piercing Strike, Regeneration, Weapon Transfiguration]

Time to put this to work.

I crouch low, scanning the surroundings. The quest said goblins were common around here, and sure enough, a few minutes in, I hear them—grunting, arguing in their guttural language.

I creep closer, pushing aside the tall grass until I see them.

Three goblins sit around a tiny campfire, gnawing on what looks like half-cooked meat. One of them wields a crude club, another has a dagger, and the third... is asleep, snoring loudly.

Too easy.

I grip my toothpick-turned-weapon, activating [Weapon Transfiguration]. The tiny stick shifts in my hand, elongating into a sleek, spear-like shape.

One precise thrust—[Piercing Strike]—and the first goblin is impaled before it can react. The other two jolt up, eyes wide.

The club-wielding goblin swings wildly, but I duck, sweeping its legs. It crashes to the ground, and before it can scramble up, I drive my weapon through its chest.

The last goblin stares, trembling. It drops its dagger and turns to run.

Bad move.

I shift my weapon into a throwing dart and hurl it. The goblin makes it three steps before the dart pierces the back of its skull. It collapses.

[You have defeated 3 Goblins!]

[EXP Gained: 150]

I walk over and collect my proof—slicing off their ears and stuffing them into a small pouch.

Quest complete.

I glance around. The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows. In the distance, I hear more goblin chatter.

I could head back to the guild and turn in the quest… or I could keep hunting.

A grin spreads across my face.

Why stop now?

I tighten my grip on my weapon, feeling the rush of adrenaline pump through my veins. The guild only asked for a few goblin ears, but if I want to level up quickly, I need to push myself harder.

I scan the area, listening closely. More goblins are nearby—I can hear their guttural bickering mixed with the occasional sharp cackle. I move silently through the underbrush, my steps light, my breathing steady.

After a few minutes, I find them.

A larger camp—six goblins huddled around a fire, some sharpening crude weapons, others feasting on something I’d rather not identify. A wooden cage sits nearby, and inside… a person? No, two. A young woman and a boy, bound and gagged.

My jaw tightens. This just became more than a simple hunting trip.

I crouch low, formulating a plan. Six goblins aren't much of a challenge, but if I make too much noise, there could be more hiding in the area. I need to take them out fast and clean.

I shift my weapon into a long, thin dagger—light, deadly, perfect for silent kills.

I creep closer to the first goblin, who’s busy chewing on a chunk of meat. One swift motion—I slice its throat before it can even register what happened. It slumps forward, gurgling silently.

One down.

I move to the next, slipping behind a goblin sharpening a rusted sword. I drive my dagger into the base of its skull, ending it instantly.

Two down.

The third goblin notices something is off. It turns, eyes widening, but before it can shout—[Piercing Strike]—my dagger extends in an instant, skewering it through the chest.

The remaining three goblins jump up, weapons in hand. One of them screeches an alarm, but it's too late.

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I shift my weapon into a short spear and charge. The closest goblin swings at me with a wooden club—I duck under it and ram my spear straight through its gut. I yank it free and pivot just in time to dodge a dagger strike.

The last two goblins hesitate. They’re scared. Good.

I take advantage of their hesitation, shifting my weapon into a throwing dart and hurling it. It pierces through one goblin’s eye, dropping it instantly. The last one turns to run—just like before.

But this time, I don’t throw my weapon. I sprint after it.

The goblin isn’t fast enough. I leap forward, grab it by the back of the neck, and slam it into the ground. It thrashes, screeching in panic.

"Not so fun when you’re the one being hunted, huh?" I mutter.

I tighten my grip and—snap—twist its neck in one swift motion.

[You have defeated 6 Goblins!]

[EXP Gained: 300]

[Level Up: 11 → 12]

I exhale, letting the tension drain from my body. That was smoother than expected.

Now for the prisoners.

I step toward the cage, where the young woman and boy stare at me with wide, fearful eyes. The woman struggles against her bindings, making muffled noises through the gag.

I kneel down. "Relax, I’m not here to hurt you."

I cut their restraints, and the woman immediately pulls the boy into a tight embrace. She looks up at me, hesitant. "W-Who are you?"

"Just an adventurer," I say, standing up. "Think you can walk?"

She nods, though she’s clearly exhausted. The boy clings to her, still shaking.

"Come on," I say, offering a hand. "Let’s get you two out of here."

The woman hesitates before taking my hand.

I lead them away from the goblin camp, keeping my weapon ready in case of an ambush. The woman clings to the boy, her eyes darting around nervously.

"What's your name?" I ask, keeping my voice calm.

She hesitates before answering. "Elise. And this is my little brother, Ron."

Ron peeks up at me, his face still streaked with dirt and tears. "A-Are there more goblins?" he asks in a whisper.

"Not anymore," I reply with a small smirk. "I took care of them."

The boy’s eyes widen in awe, but Elise remains tense. "You’re an adventurer, right? W-Where are you taking us?"

"Back to the city," I say. "The Adventurer’s Guild should be safe for you two."

She nods but still looks uneasy. I don’t blame her. Being kidnapped by goblins isn’t something you just shake off.

We walk in silence for a while, the sounds of the forest settling into a peaceful quiet. It’s strange—out here, under the moonlight, the world almost feels… calm. But I know better. This world is anything but peaceful.

Suddenly, Ron tugs on my sleeve. "Mister adventurer?"

"Yeah?"

"You were really cool back there!" He grins, his earlier fear momentarily forgotten. "You beat up all those goblins by yourself!"

I chuckle. "Well, I am pretty strong."

Elise sighs, shaking her head. "Ron, don’t bother him."

"It’s fine," I say. "But yeah, goblins aren’t much of a challenge."

Elise gives me a doubtful look. "You say that like it was nothing."

"Because it was nothing," I reply. "Those goblins were weak. If it were something stronger—like an ogre or a wyvern—that would’ve been a different story."

She pales. "O-Ogres? Wyverns? Those things are real?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Of course they are. Haven’t you seen one before?"

She shakes her head. "We’re just villagers… we don’t go outside the city much."

I hum in understanding. Life must be pretty different for normal people in this world. While adventurers roam, fight, and grow stronger, civilians just try to survive.

As we near the city gates, the guards spot us and immediately rush forward.

"Elise?! Ron?!" One of the guards, a middle-aged man with a bushy mustache, stares at them in shock. "By the gods, you’re alive!"

Elise lets out a shaky breath. "Captain Roderick… it’s really you!"

The man—Roderick—nods, his face a mix of relief and anger. "When we heard the goblins raided the trade caravan, we feared the worst! How did you escape?"

I step forward. "They didn’t escape. I found them and took care of the goblins."

Roderick eyes me up and down. "You…? Alone?"

"Yeah."

His brows furrow as if he doesn’t believe me, but Elise quickly interjects. "It’s true! He saved us! He cut down those goblins like it was nothing!"

Roderick exhales, shaking his head. "You must be stronger than you look, adventurer." He turns to Elise and Ron. "Come, let’s get you both somewhere safe."

As he leads them away, Elise glances back at me. "Thank you… I don’t know how we can ever repay you."

I wave her off. "Don’t worry about it."

Ron, however, beams up at me. "I wanna be strong like you one day!"

I grin. "Then eat well, train hard, and don’t get caught by goblins."

He giggles, and with that, they disappear into the city.

I let out a breath and stretch my shoulders. Time to head back to the guild.

Inside the Adventurer’s Guild, the usual noise fills the air—laughter, clinking mugs, rowdy adventurers boasting about their latest quests. I walk up to the receptionist’s desk, dropping the pouch of goblin ears onto the counter.

She raises an eyebrow. "Back already?"

"Yeah," I say. "Cleared out a goblin camp, saved some villagers."

She blinks. "…You what?"

"Elise and Ron. They were in a cage. Goblins were keeping them as captives."

Her expression shifts to something more serious. "That’s… unusual. Goblins don’t normally take prisoners."

"Yeah, well, these did. But they won’t be doing it anymore."

She exhales, rubbing her temples. "Alright, let me process this. You brought back more than enough proof, so here’s your reward." She slides over a small pouch.

I open it—5 silver per ear, plus a bonus for saving civilians. Not bad.

"One more thing," she says, lowering her voice. "If goblins are taking prisoners, it could mean something bigger is happening. We might need to send out higher-ranked adventurers to investigate."

I nod. "Let me know if you need another goblin killer."

She smirks. "We’ll see."

I take my earnings and step away from the counter.

Now that I have some money, I should take care of a few things.

After collecting my reward, I step away from the counter and take a deep breath. The guild is buzzing with activity—adventurers laughing, drinking, and boasting about their conquests. It’s a world I need to get used to.

I glance at my earnings—a handful of silver coins and a small bonus for saving civilians. Not bad for my first official quest.

Now that I have some money, I need to plan my next move.

Priorities:

1. Buy proper gear. My suit and tie aren’t exactly battle-ready.

2. Take on more quests and level up.

3. Learn more about this world and how adventurers operate.

I grip my weapon—C13314, my so-called “toothpick.” It may look unimpressive, but it’s proven itself to be more powerful than it seems. If I play my cards right, I might climb the ranks faster than expected.

With a smirk, I head toward the marketplace.

It’s time to gear up.

The marketplace is bustling with life—merchants shouting about their wares, adventurers haggling over prices, and the scent of freshly baked bread mixing with the distinct smell of iron from the blacksmith’s forge.

I navigate through the crowd, looking for something practical. My current outfit—a tattered business suit—isn’t doing me any favors.

I find a decent-looking armor shop and step inside. The place is packed with weapons, chainmail, and reinforced leather suits. Behind the counter stands an old blacksmith, his arms thick with muscle, a scar running down his cheek. He eyes me up and down.

"You don’t look like a swordsman," he grunts.

"I’m not," I reply, placing a few silver coins on the counter. "I need something lightweight, flexible, and durable—something I can move in."

The blacksmith nods, rummaging through his inventory before pulling out a reinforced leather coat with metal plating on the inside. It’s black, sturdy, and blends well in the shadows.

"This should do," he says. "Light enough to move in, tough enough to stop a blade if you’re lucky."

I try it on. The fit is perfect. Not too heavy, but protective enough.

"Got anything for my face?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why? Got enemies?"

"Let’s just say I don’t want the wrong people recognizing me."

He smirks, reaching under the counter and pulling out a black half-mask that covers the lower half of my face. "Made from beast-hide. Breathable but tough. Won’t get in your way during fights."

I take it, securing it over my face. Looking into a nearby mirror, I barely recognize myself—a dark-coated adventurer with a concealed face, radiating mystery.

"Perfect," I say, tossing him a few extra coins.

With my new gear set, it’s time for the next step—more quests, more leveling up.

Back at the Adventurer’s Guild, I grab a few solo quests off the board.

* Eliminate wandering goblins (again).

* Hunt down a pack of dire wolves terrorizing merchants.

* Retrieve a rare herb from the forest (guarded by a beast).

I take all three. No time to waste.

The goblin quest is easy. I clear them out with swift, precise [Piercing Strikes], leveling up a bit in the process.

The dire wolves are tougher—faster, smarter—but I adjust, using my weapon’s adaptability to fight at different ranges. After a brutal battle, I take them down and collect the reward.

By the time I reach the herb retrieval quest, I’ve leveled up twice—now Level 14.

That’s when I run into trouble.

The forest is quiet—too quiet.

I approach the marked location on the quest notice, spotting the herb growing near a cluster of rocks. Just as I step forward—

CRACK.

A massive shadow lunges at me from above.

I barely dodge as a beast crashes down where I stood. It’s not just any beast—it’s a Razorfang Panther, a top-tier predator known for its speed and precision.

Its black fur shimmers, blending into the darkness. Its yellow eyes lock onto me, analyzing my every move.

[Warning: High-level enemy detected.]

I exhale, gripping my weapon.

"Alright, let’s see what you’ve got."

The panther darts forward—fast. Too fast.

I barely manage to dodge, but it’s not a clean escape. Its claws tear into my side, sending pain shooting through me.

I grit my teeth, rolling back to create distance.

This thing is on a whole different level.

I shift my weapon into a spear and go on the offensive, lunging at it with [Piercing Strike]—but it dodges, disappearing into the shadows.

Before I can react, pain explodes in my back.

It’s toying with me.

This isn’t a fight I can win by brute force.

I take a deep breath and let instinct take over.

The moment the panther vanishes into the shadows again, I close my eyes—focusing, listening.

A soft rustle. A faint breath.

There.

I spin, thrusting my weapon blindly—

Direct hit.

The panther lets out a furious screech as my attack pierces its side. I don’t stop. I twist the weapon into a dagger, slashing at its legs, forcing it to the ground.

It tries to leap away, but I unleash my strongest attack—[Piercing Barrage].

One. Two. Three.

A rapid series of deadly thrusts stab into its body, breaking through its defenses.

Finally, with one last desperate strike, I drive my weapon into its skull.

The beast collapses.

[You have defeated a Razorfang Panther!]

[EXP Gained: 800]

[Level Up: 14 → 15]

I stagger back, breathing heavily. My body is aching, bleeding—but I survived.

I retrieve the herb and start making my way back.

This world isn’t kind to the weak.

If I want to survive here, I need to keep growing.

Back at the guild, I submit my quests, collecting my rewards. I expect another uneventful evening—until a heavy presence fills the room.

A tall man in silver armor steps inside, his eyes scanning the guild like a king surveying his subjects.

Whispers spread through the crowd.

"That’s Gale the Stormbreaker!"

"One of the S-rank adventurers!"

"What’s he doing here?"

I watch as he approaches the receptionist. His voice is calm but commanding.

"I heard there was an adventurer who killed a Razorfang Panther solo," he says.

The receptionist hesitates before nodding. "Yes… that would be him." She gestures toward me.

The room goes silent as Gale turns to me.

His piercing gaze locks onto mine.

"You. What’s your name?"

I meet his stare, unfazed.

"Kelvin."

He studies me for a moment before smirking.

"Interesting."

Without another word, he turns and walks away.

The moment he’s gone, the guild erupts into whispers.

Did an S-rank adventurer just acknowledge me?

I don’t know what that means yet… but one thing is clear.

I’m being noticed.

The buzz around the guild doesn’t die down even after Gale the Stormbreaker leaves. Adventurers whisper, side-eyeing me like I’ve suddenly become a person of interest.

I don’t like attention. That’s why I bought the mask in the first place.

I sigh, taking my reward and heading towards a quiet corner. Just as I take a seat, the receptionist approaches with an apologetic smile.

"Kelvin, right?"

I nod.

She leans in, keeping her voice low. "That encounter with Gale… you should be careful. When an S-rank adventurer takes interest in someone, people start asking questions. Some might see you as a rising star."

I raise an eyebrow. "And others?"

She hesitates. "Others might see you as… competition."

Great.

She quickly changes the subject. "Anyway, I just wanted to say… you’re eligible for a promotion. You’ve completed multiple quests in record time, and killing a Razorfang Panther alone? That’s beyond D-rank level."

I tilt my head. "Promotion?"

She nods, pulling out a form.

"With your performance, you can skip straight to C-rank—if you pass an evaluation."

C-rank. That means better quests, higher pay, and access to more restricted guild resources.

It also means stronger enemies.

I consider for a moment before replying.

"I’ll do it."

The receptionist smiles. "Alright. Your evaluation will be tomorrow morning."

I nod, standing up. Time to prepare.

That night, I double-check my gear.

Armor: Durable, lightweight. Still good.

Weapon: C13314—still overpowered.

Skills: [Piercing Strike], [Piercing Barrage], [Regeneration], and some minor enhancements from leveling up.

Stats: After leveling up, my Strength, Agility, and Endurance have noticeably improved.

I should be ready.

But just as I’m about to turn in for the night, a knock echoes at my door.

Cautiously, I open it.

Standing there is a young man with crimson hair, a cocky smirk on his face. His armor is polished, well-maintained—not a rookie.

"You’re Kelvin, right?" he asks.

I stay silent.

His smirk widens. "I heard you’re taking the C-rank evaluation tomorrow. Just a friendly heads-up… don’t get in over your head."

I fold my arms. "That a warning?"

"A courtesy," he corrects. "The guild isn’t all fun and games. Some people don’t like newcomers rising too fast."

I narrow my eyes. "And you?"

He chuckles. "Me? I don’t really care. But… you might wanna watch your back tomorrow."

With that, he turns and walks away.

I shut the door, exhaling.

So it’s already starting.

The next morning, I arrive at the guild’s training grounds. Several adventurers—some C-rank, some higher—are gathered to watch.

The examiner, a burly man in knight armor, steps forward.

"The test is simple," he explains. "You’ll be facing an opponent. Win, and you’re in."

I crack my knuckles. "Who’s my opponent?"

The crowd parts, and someone steps forward.

It’s the red-haired adventurer from last night.

He grins, drawing his weapon—a twin-bladed spear.

"Name’s Vance," he says. "Let’s see if you’re as strong as they say."

The examiner raises his hand.

"Begin!"

Vance moves first.

He lunges, his spear spinning at high speed. I dodge, but the air pressure alone cuts my sleeve.

Fast. Really fast.

I counter with [Piercing Strike], but Vance blocks with a twirl of his spear. Sparks fly as our weapons clash.

"Not bad," he admits. "But not enough."

He leaps into the air, twisting his spear mid-flight—then slams it down in a powerful strike.

I barely dodge, but the impact shatters the ground.

He’s strong. Stronger than the panther.

Good.

I need this fight.

I tighten my grip. Time to go all out.

The ground is still shaking from Vance’s last attack. He lands lightly, spinning his twin-bladed spear with ease, a smug grin never leaving his face.

"Still standing? Not bad," he says, twirling his weapon behind his back. "Let’s kick it up a notch."

I exhale, focusing. He’s fast, but I’ve fought faster—that panther could move like a shadow.

I just have to read him.

Vance dashes forward, closing the gap instantly. He spins his spear mid-charge, a deceptive move that hides where the real attack is coming from.

I don’t try to block. I don’t even dodge.

Instead, I step forward—inside his attack range.

His eyes widen in surprise.

Before he can adjust, I strike with [Piercing Barrage]—three rapid, pinpoint thrusts aimed at his torso.

He barely manages to twist his spear, deflecting two. But the third?

It hits home.

Vance stumbles back, clutching his side. His armor took the hit, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him.

The crowd murmurs.

I keep my stance. "You talk too much."

Vance wipes his lip, then grins. "Alright. No more playing around."

His stance shifts.

His movements had been flashy before, more for show than effectiveness. But now?

He’s serious.

And the moment I blink—he’s gone.

A flash of steel from the right—I duck.

An instant shift—I block from the left.

Vance’s speed has doubled. He moves like a blur, his spear cutting through the air like a storm.

I go full defense, dodging and parrying, but he’s faster than me.

A sharp pain cuts across my shoulder. He got me.

Blood drips. Not deep, but enough to be a warning.

"Tch." I take a few steps back, reassessing. If I stay defensive, I’ll lose.

I need an opening.

I activate [Regeneration], feeling the wound slowly mend itself.

Vance notices. "Oh? You’ve got healing skills too?" He smirks. "Too bad they won’t help if you’re too slow."

He vanishes again.

I hear the rush of air behind me. There.

Instead of dodging, I turn into the attack.

Vance is mid-strike, his spear aimed straight at me.

But I don’t dodge.

I step into it—and counter.

[Piercing Strike – Full Power.]

My attack hits first.

Vance’s attack never lands.

His body hurls backward, crashing into the dirt.

The entire arena goes silent.

Vance coughs, rolling onto his back. He stares at the sky, dazed. Then—

He starts laughing.

"Ha! That hurt like hell!" He sits up, rubbing his chest. "Man, I thought I had you."

I lower my weapon. "You almost did."

The examiner steps forward. "Enough. The winner is Kelvin."

The crowd bursts into whispers, some impressed, others frustrated.

"Did he just—"

"Vance lost?"

"That guy wasn’t even C-rank yet!"

Vance stands, shaking off the dust. He walks over and offers his hand.

"That was a damn good fight," he says. "Let’s go again sometime."

I shake his hand.

The examiner clears his throat. "Kelvin. Congratulations. You are now a C-rank adventurer."

A notification pops up in my vision.

[Rank Up: D → C]

[New Quests Unlocked]

[Reputation Increased]

I exhale.

One step closer.

But as I turn to leave, I notice something.

At the far end of the training grounds, Gale the Stormbreaker is watching.

His piercing gaze follows me as I exit.

Something tells me this is just the beginning.

With my rank officially increased, I gain access to higher-tier quests, better rewards, and more dangerous missions.

But that also means more powerful enemies.

I need to keep leveling up.

I need stronger skills.

And most importantly…

I need to find out why someone like Gale is watching me.

For now, I head to the guild board, looking for my next challenge.

The real adventure starts now.

And after all of this I'll finally be able to relax.

You’d think that, wouldn’t you?

But the world has other plans.

Just as I reach the quest board, scanning for something manageable—maybe a simple beast hunt or escort mission—a loud crash shakes the guild hall.

Everyone turns toward the entrance.

The doors burst open, and a heavily wounded adventurer stumbles inside, blood dripping onto the wooden floor.

"H-He’s coming…" the man gasps, barely able to stand.

The room freezes.

Gale, who had been observing from the upper level, disappears in an instant. One moment he’s leaning against the railing—the next, he’s standing beside the injured man, catching him before he collapses.

"Who?" Gale asks, his voice calm but firm.

The adventurer grips Gale’s sleeve, his eyes wild with terror.

"The Butcher."

Silence.

Then, all at once, the mood in the guild shifts. The casual atmosphere is gone. Several adventurers exchange nervous glances. A few step back, as if distance alone will protect them.

Who the hell is ‘The Butcher’?

Gale’s expression darkens. "Where?"

The injured man struggles to speak. "T-Towards the eastern forest… wiped out our entire party… he’s… too strong."

I glance at the quest board—that’s the same area as my next mission.

Of course it is.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. Looks like relaxing will have to wait.