Silas walked along the old road on old paths, all the while the familiar jingle of his last few bronze and silver coins reminding him of how little he still owned.

He was only about a half-mile from Bastian's imposing walls. The circular city loomed ahead, its outer ring a sprawling labyrinth of markets, forges, and taverns.

The smell of roasting meat and the clang of hammers on anvils carried far enough to reach him, even outside the city.

Tucked into his belt was a notice of inheritance, crumpled but carrying the weight of something far greater than its fragile paper form.

His grandfather, Arch Magus Dewalt Beckham, had passed away, leaving behind an immense legacy.

Now, the estate—a once-grand but now mana-depleted relic in the third ring—was his responsibility, along with all its debts and mysteries.

Ahead, the road narrowed to the first set of gates. Bastian's outer defenses loomed, forged iron and stone with faintly humming enchantments that crackled subtly, thanks to the city's formidable magical barriers.

Two guards stood at the entrance, both clad in steel and leather that bore the marks of countless patrols.

Their halberds were dull from use, but their eyes were sharp, trained on every movement. One stepped forward, raising a hand, his expression a mix of authority and curiosity.

"Halt. State your business in Bastian," the guard commanded, his voice firm but not unkind.

Silas begrudgingly pulled out the notice, the crumpled paper feeling heavier than it should. "I'm the heir of the Beckham estate," he declared, holding it up for the guard to see.

The guard's eyes scanned the paper before his face twisted into a grimace. "Yeah, good luck with that," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Uh oh," Silas said, half to himself. "That sounds bad. Cursed?"

The guard let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "No, not cursed. Just broke. And I'm sure it's full of despair. The Arch Magus passed some time ago. I doubt the estate is in working order."

Silas's shoulders slumped slightly. He'd heard rumors about the state of the estate but had hoped for some exaggeration. Still, there was no turning back now.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Silas replied dryly, tucking the notice back into his belt.

The guard shrugged, stepping aside to let him pass. "Just telling it like it is. You'll see soon enough."

Silas stiffened, sliding the notice back into his belt. The second guard grinned as well, leaning on his halberd.

"Yeah, mate. Heard the estate's been falling apart since the Arch Magus kicked it. You'd be lucky to find a window that's still intact, let alone any of that fancy magic he used to run."

The first guard shrugged. "You might find it in 'working order,' but it's probably just full of dust and despair now. Estate like that needs mana, resources—neither of which you're gonna have much of, I bet."

Silas clenched his teeth, the weight of his inheritance sinking in a little deeper. He pushed past the guards, moving through the gates into the outer ring of Bastian.

The city's outer ring bustled with activity. Stalls lined the cobbled streets, vendors hawking everything from fresh produce to enchanted trinkets.

"Hey there! Fancy a potion? Guaranteed to boost your mana for an entire day!" a vendor called out, holding up a vial filled with glowing blue liquid.

Silas shook his head, not breaking stride. He had more pressing concerns than temporary boosts.

A group of children ran past him, laughing and chasing each other with wooden swords. For a moment, Silas envied their carefree nature. His own childhood had been far simpler before this sudden responsibility landed on his shoulders.

"Watch your step!" someone yelled as a cart loaded with barrels rumbled down the street, narrowly missing Silas.

He sidestepped just in time.

«Silas Reaches the Magistrate's Office»

Silas moved through the city's circles. The chaotic outer ring, crowded with merchants and smiths hawking their goods, gave way to the more polished second ring—less noise, but more watchful eyes.

Passing through was easy enough, the estate papers granting him clearance without much trouble.

It was when he reached the Magistrate's Office, an imposing building of dark stone and arcane symbols etched into the walls, that the real problem began.

The magistrate, a thin man with a sharp nose and robes lined with silver filigree, barely glanced at Silas before drumming his fingers on the desk. "Beckham estate, eh?" He raised an eyebrow. "You know there are back taxes, right?"

Silas felt a pit form in his stomach. "Back taxes?"

The magistrate nodded, sliding a thin stack of parchment across the table. "Looks like the old Arch Magus let things slip before he passed. To even claim the estate legally, you'll need to pay off some of that debt." He tapped the paper with a bony finger. "Immediately."

"How much?" Silas asked, already dreading the answer.

"Just a token amount. One percent."

Silas blinked. "One percent?"

The magistrate leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Mmm, small amount compared to the whole sum. But it's still enough to be a problem for someone with empty pockets."

Silas clenched his fist. "How am I supposed to come up with that money?"

The magistrate shrugged with a lazy sigh. "Same way everyone else does around here. By earning it in battle."

"Battle?"

«The Summoner & Tamer Protocol Tutorial»

The magistrate sighed, as if he had this conversation a hundred times over. "Always with the new ones."

He snapped his fingers, and a subtle hum filled the air as a glowing interface materialized in front of Silas, a swirling array of glyphs and instructions.

Suddenly, music started, an adventurous melody that grew louder as the arcane symbols twisted into diagrams and text.

《Summoner & Tamer Protocol Tutorial Initiated:》

《Welcome, Summoner! To claim your rightful place and unlock the full potential of your estate, you must compete in sanctioned battles.》

《Current Objective: Earn enough money to pay the required 1% of Beckham estate's back taxes.》

《Options to Earn Gold:》

《Participate in sanctioned arena tournaments.》

《Enter dungeon delves, retrieve rare artifacts.》

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《Take on monster taming contracts.》

The magistrate waved a hand through the glowing screen, causing a list of upcoming tournaments to appear. "The Coliseum always has something going on. Or, if you're feeling particularly brave, there's a few dungeons just outside the city that could use clearing."

Silas stared at the system, the weight of his new responsibilities suddenly amplified by the flashing screens. This wasn't just a title—it was a call to arms.

"Welcome to Bastian," the magistrate added dryly before returning to his paperwork.

Silas frowned, glancing at the glowing interface still hovering in front of him.

"But I don't have a monster to fight."

The magistrate barely looked up from his papers, clicking his tongue impatiently. "Well, are you a summoner or a tamer?"

Silas opened his mouth, only to be cut off by the system pulsing to life again. A new prompt appeared in front of him, the swirling glyphs rearranging themselves into two distinct options.

《Summoner & Tamer Protocol: Choose Your Path》

《Summoner: Command creatures from distant realms, binding them to your will through arcane rituals. Summoners draw on their own mana reserves to maintain control, making it a powerful but resource-intensive path. Summoning allows for more varied and often more powerful creatures.》

《Advantages:》

《Access to rare and unique creatures.》

《Creatures can be swapped mid-battle.》

《High flexibility in tactics.》

《Disadvantages:》

《Requires mana upkeep for summoned creatures.》

《If your mana runs out, your creatures vanish.》

《More complex rituals needed to obtain stronger monsters.》

《Tamer: Train and form bonds with creatures in the physical world. Tamers rely on their personal connection with beasts, shaping them through rigorous training and combat experience. Tamers often form lifelong bonds with their monsters, making them loyal and persistent fighters.》

《Advantages:》

《Creatures do not require mana upkeep.》

《Stronger bond with fewer creatures.》

《Easier access to physical and local beasts.》

《Disadvantages:》

《Limited by local monsters.》

《Once a bond is formed, switching creatures is difficult.》

《Requires more time to train creatures effectively.》

The magistrate's voice brought him back to reality. "Choose wisely. Your path determines a lot in this city. Summoners need mana, and tamers need patience. But both can earn you what you need, gold, power, respect. Mostly gold."

Silas considered the options.

«Silas Receives a Summoning Orb»

Silas rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the orb in his hand. The faint blue glow pulsed gently, a heartbeat of potential.

"I, uh... I don't have much money on me," he admitted, feeling the full reality of his situation sinking in deeper. "Do you have any advice for me?"

The magistrate paused, sharp eyes flickering toward Silas with a touch of something that could've been pity, or maybe just annoyance.

"Well... technically, you are the 'heir' to the Beckham estate." He waved a hand dismissively. "Maybe check out the manor later. Could be something valuable left behind. But for now..." He leaned back, sizing Silas up. "You're so green around the ears, you'd make a goblin look seasoned."

Silas stiffened, but the magistrate smirked and continued. "Tell you what. Since you're still figuring out this whole 'Summoner or Tamer' thing, here." He reached into his desk and tossed a small orb toward Silas.

It was cold to the touch, faintly glowing with a dull, blue light. Silas turned it over in his hands, feeling the arcane energy trapped within it, dormant but waiting.

"That's a summoning orb," the magistrate explained. "Pour a little of your mana into it, and it'll bind a temporary creature to you. Not permanent, but enough to get by until you decide on a path."

"So, what do I do with this?" Silas asked, unsure how to proceed.

The magistrate shrugged. "I'd take that, head out, and sucker someone into battling you for money." He leaned forward with a smirk. "Lots of young fools in the outer rings. Desperate folks. Some of 'em are worse off than you. Might as well make use of your name while you still can."

Silas blinked at the blunt advice. "Why are you helping me?"

For the first time, the magistrate's expression softened, barely, but enough for Silas to notice. "Owed the Arch Magus a favor. Just passing it on." He returned to his papers with a sigh. "Don't make me regret it."

Silas nodded slowly and pocketed the orb. The idea of using his name felt strange, he was just Silas Beckham, after all, but if it meant getting some quick gold and not starving in this new world of responsibilities and debts, he'd take what he could get.

He turned to leave but hesitated at the door. "Thanks," he said quietly.

The magistrate didn't look up from his paperwork but gave a small nod.

Silas shifted his weight, already feeling the burden of his inheritance growing heavier. "Uh… how much is one percent?"

The magistrate didn't even look up. "Three gold."

Silas blinked. Three gold. That might not have meant much to a noble, but when you had nothing, it was everything.

«Silas Finds an Opportunity in the Outer Rings»

With the orb still in his hand, Silas nodded once and turned, heading out of the Magistrate's Office, thoughts racing. Three gold wasn't completely out of reach, but it wasn't going to fall into his lap, either.

The outer rings were as chaotic as ever. Makeshift arenas were scattered among the stalls and taverns, where small groups of tamers and summoners tested their creatures in quick bouts for coin.

It didn't take long for Silas to find an opportunity. A lean, rough-looking kid with a scar across his cheek was boasting about his creature—an aggressive wildcat pacing around at his feet.

"Think you're tough? This here wildcat's taken down plenty of critters. Who's next to get their coin taken?"

Silas stepped forward, gripping the orb. "I'll take you on."

The crowd shifted, eyes turning toward Silas as the wildcat tamer grinned, revealing a missing tooth. "New blood, huh? How much you got?"

"Two silver." It was all he could risk, but it would have to do. The kid snorted, clearly unimpressed, but nodded.

"Fine, two silver. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Silas tightened his grip on the summoning orb.

Just a little mana... He focused, channeling a small portion of his energy into the orb.

It pulsed, growing warmer before he hurled it into the dirt. A flash of light erupted, and from the glowing haze, a Grey Owl materialized, its sharp eyes locking onto the wildcat.

The crowd murmured. The wildcat snarled, claws unsheathed.

"Begin!" someone shouted.

The wildcat pounced first, a blur of fur and claws. Silas barely had time to react before the Grey Owl dodged, flapping its broad wings and soaring up into the air.

"Use Beak!" Silas called out instinctively.

The Grey Owl swooped, its talons raking across the wildcat's side, drawing a hiss of pain as the wildcat spun and tried to leap again. The two creatures circled, the wildcat fast, but the Grey Owl was faster, darting in and out of the wildcat's range.

"Grip & Drop!" Silas ordered.

The Grey Owl shot downward, its talons locking around the wildcat's back. With a powerful flap of its wings, it lifted the wildcat off the ground. The wildcat yowled in frustration, claws flailing, but the owl ascended higher and higher, the crowd watching in awe.

Then, without warning, the Grey Owl released its grip.

The wildcat plummeted, hitting the ground with a dull splat. Dust rose around it as it struggled to get back up, but it was clear, the fight was over. The wildcat stumbled and collapsed, defeated.

The crowd murmured in approval, and the tamer grimaced, tossing two silver coins into the dirt at Silas' feet. "Lucky shot," he spat before slinking away with his bruised pride.

Silas crouched, picking up the coins. Two silver earned. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

《Battle Summary:》

《Opponent: 《Wildcat》》

《Summoned Creature: 《Grey Owl》》

《Abilities Used: 《Beak》, 《Grip & Drop》》

《Outcome: 《Victory by incapacitation》》

«Silas Continues His Winning Streak»

Silas moved from one unofficial arena to another, keeping his head down but his eyes sharp. Word had spread fast, he was new, sure, but that Grey Owl of his had a trick up its sleeve.

He pocketed the silver from his first victory and found his next target quickly: a scrawny summoner with a lizard-like creature that flicked its tongue in and out.

"You wanna go next?" Silas asked, his voice steady, even though his heart pounded. He'd need to keep winning if he wanted to get that three gold. The summoner glanced at the crowd, shrugged, and stepped forward.

"Three silver," the kid said. "My Drake here's no joke."

Silas summoned the Grey Owl again, the orb glowing briefly before the owl materialized, flapping its wings and glaring down at the drake from above.

The fight started the same as before—quick, decisive. The drake lunged with a quick snap of its jaws, but the

Grey Owl dodged, flying just out of reach. "Use Beak!" Silas commanded, and once again, the Grey Owl snatched the drake with its talons, rising into the air before releasing it. The drake hit the ground with a hard thud, and the fight was over almost before it began.

Silas won the next two matches in a similar fashion.

Another wildcat, this one slightly larger, though still no match for the owl's speed, and a brutish boar-like creature, both went down to the tried-and-true tactic. Each time, Silas collected his silver, the weight of his purse slowly increasing as he pocketed coin after coin.

But his victories weren't going unnoticed.

As the fourth fight ended, the crowd he'd started to build up, turned against him. Those he'd defeated stood at the edges, eyes narrow and fists clenched.

The first tamer, the one with the wildcat, pointed at him.

"You think you can just keep pulling that trick? You got lucky once, twice maybe, but you're nothing special."

The summoner with the drake stepped forward, arms crossed. "We want another shot. Together."

Silas swallowed, his eyes darting from one to the next. They were closing in. He could see it in their faces, anger, frustration, the need for payback. The crowd hushed, sensing the tension.

Silas wasn't stupid. This was a horrible decision. Taking on all of them at once would be suicide. His mind raced, searching for a way out, and then it hit him. If they wanted to play dirty, he'd play smarter.

The wildcat tamer grinned, baring teeth that matched his beast. "What do you say, new guy? Your owl against all of us?"

Silas forced a confident smirk onto his face. "Sure, why not? But let's make it interesting."

He took a step back, holding up his hands to make a point. "If I win, I take home all your stakes. But if you win, you get everything I've earned today and…," he paused for effect, "I'll throw in this summoning orb too."

Silas knew he had them now.

Greed was a powerful motivator.