Pag adjusted the straps of his newly acquired armor, feeling the weight settle over his shoulders. Unlike the flowing robes he had expected, his gear reflected his new class—Infernal Vanguard. His attire consisted of a reinforced crimson coat, lined with blackened steel plates sewn discreetly into the fabric, designed for both mobility and protection. A set of hardened leather gauntlets, embossed with intricate flame patterns, fit snugly over his hands, and a sturdy pair of boots completed the ensemble. Slung across his back was a jagged black-bladed longsword, its edge flickering intermittently with embers that hinted at the latent fire magic bound within.

The Adventurers’ Guild hall was still bustling around them, the sounds of armor clinking, blades sharpening, and hushed conversations creating an ever-present hum of activity. They had just completed their registration, officially marking them as adventurers, and now, with their starter gear in hand, they were faced with their first true task—finding a job that suited their abilities.

Eryk stood beside him, rolling his shoulders beneath the new set of lightweight robes he had received, black and embroidered with deep blue arcane symbols. As an Inkslinger, his magic allowed him to store and manipulate objects through specially inscribed scrolls, an ability that complemented his secondary class, Monk, which emphasized agility and unarmed combat. His fists, wrapped in fresh white bindings, flexed unconsciously, a silent testament to his readiness for battle.

Darleyn, on the other hand, was already inspecting her new grimoire, flipping through its worn pages as tiny flecks of stone and dust floated lazily around her. As an Elemental Mage specializing in earth and rock-based magic, her powers granted her control over the terrain itself—useful for both offense and defense. Soon, she would be taking on a second class, though she had yet to decide what path to follow. Her new robes, made of sturdy brown fabric woven with silver threading, suited her well, the muted tones a reflection of the very elements she commanded.

The receptionist, a poised elf with silver-threaded auburn hair and keen golden eyes, had just handed them their registration certificates and a small bundle of essential supplies. "With your registration complete, each of you is entitled to one low-grade health potion, one low-grade stamina potion, and one low-grade mana potion," she explained, setting three small vials on the counter before them. "Your starting equipment is tailored to your primary class. While it is basic, it will serve you well until you can afford better."

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Pag examined his own potions, the red, green, and blue liquids shimmering faintly. He tucked them into a reinforced belt pouch, nodding in appreciation. His infernal-themed equipment felt alien but powerful. It wasn't what he had expected, but it resonated with him in a way that suggested he would grow into it.

Eryk secured his own potions inside his robe, while Darleyn simply let hers disappear into a small pocket of swirling sand she conjured from her palm, a casual display of her affinity for earth magic.

"Now, you’ll need a job," the receptionist continued, nodding toward the grand wooden job board across the hall. "As first-time guild members, you’re restricted to Rank E and D requests. Prove yourselves, and higher ranks will be within your reach."

The trio made their way toward the board, where parchment sheets, some crisp and new while others were yellowed with age, were tacked up haphazardly. The postings varied—some asked for simple deliveries, others sought escorts for merchant caravans, while a few involved minor combat encounters.

Eryk’s sharp eyes scanned the papers before landing on one. "This looks reasonable—farmers on the outskirts are reporting a dire rat infestation in their grain stores. Reward is decent, and it should be good for testing how we work together in a fight."

Pag wrinkled his nose. "Rats? Really? That’s the best we can do?"

Darleyn smirked, leaning in with arms crossed. "Afraid of a few overgrown rodents, fire-boy?"

Pag shot her a glare before sighing. "Fine, let’s just get it over with."

Eryk pulled the request from the board and brought it back to the receptionist. She glanced at it before stamping it with the official guild seal. "The farm is an hour’s walk west of the city. Return with proof of extermination, and you’ll receive your payment. Good luck."

As they exited the guild hall, the weight of their decision settled over them. This may have been a small task, but it was the first step toward something greater. In a world where strength and reputation dictated everything, even hunting rats could serve as the foundation for legends yet to be written.