Alaric was very unfamiliar with the Guild Hall of Melbourne. Made of rich hardwood reinforced with magic, it stood tall and proud in one of the city's epicentres.

The street was filled with buildings of similar grandeur all providing services that had never crossed Alaric’s mind. On top of an Adventurer’s Guild, there was an Alchemist Guild and a Merchant Guild all established on the same street, reminding Alaric of the small world he’d come from.

While adventuring was indeed possible back in the Five Hills, there simply wasn’t enough infrastructure, organisation or even the funds to run such an operation. There were Aether Beasts in the woods and plenty to explore but no one with the skills to do it. Plus there was no one with Holy Magic to do away with any demons that lurked around.

For that reason, the Five Hills relied on the Village Watch when there were cases such as rogue demons that had gotten too close to the Holy Barrier or pesky wild animals that needed to be dealt with before the farms were completely overrun.

For this reason, the village chief was to handsomely compensate the members of the Village Watch. Alaric and his friends had even insisted on going with them for a few missions, and during times of low demon activity, they had witnessed some of them in action.

When Alaric set out with Sariah to get him registered that morning, this is what had come to mind.

‘It can’t be that different, can it?’ he thought to himself as he followed Sariah into the building so large it was at least twice as big as the largest house in the Five Hills.

Inscribed into the sign at the top of the entrance was a sword and a shield, crudely drawn but serving the right purpose. Inside, a ragged atmosphere welcomed the pair.

Men and women sat on tables talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Everywhere he looked, he sported unusual wear with armour being the only middle ground.

His black armour—formerly white— fit right in. The rest of him, however, didn’t. The men rippled with muscles and scars from battle while the women, well, let’s say Alaric found himself unsure of whether they were worse than the men.

The boy’s breath hitched when he noticed most of them turned to them in unison. ‘Is this really where Sariah works?’ he swallowed.

Alaric was abnormally tall for his age, having gone through an odd Tempering Ritual so he was sure he could easily pass for at least a nineteen-year-old. That said, his nerves had a mind of their own, shooting his anxiety levels to new heights.

‘I’m even wearing a face-changing mask,’ he tried… but alas, even that didn’t help cool his nerves.

[ Just do what you always do when you’re nervous. Pretend you own the place ] Alia tried.

[ I think owning this place would get me thrown in a stable somewhere ] he carefully worded his concerns.

The guardian laughed at his reaction. Alaric swallowed.

Silently, he followed Sariah through the silent on-lookers until they reached the front desk where a woman was currently going through a series of papers. She had red hair and was perhaps one of the last reminders that women could be feminine in a place like this. With her warm smile, fairly conditioned skin and ample bosom, she was exactly what Alaric expected of a receptionist, kind, welcoming…

Before Alaric had even said hello, she’d shot him that killer glare that had the power to make any man piss their pants, ‘AH! Never mind! I’m just minding my own business,’ the boy screamed in his mind as though she could hear him.

“Helga, dear. I’m here to help my friend get a license,” Sariah began.

The woman looked away from Alaric, peering at Sariah through a pair of enchanted glasses. If her expression softened, Alaric didn’t see it.

She turned her attention to Alaric maintaining an expressionless before returning to Sariah, “Can he fight?”

“As far as I know, he’s decent,” Sariah shrugged, “Can he take the test?”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“There is a process, Sariah. I’m honestly asking you the wrong questions just because you’re a friend of mine,” the woman sighed, “Word’s going around that a mysterious boy might have fled the Tower of Seekers. The guild hasn’t allowed anyone who’s not a well-known resident of Melbourne to take the examination.”

“I hear you, Helga but the boy needs to start pulling his weight. I can’t just have him freeloading under my roof,” the woman tried. At this point, “His village was ravaged by demons and he’d been living with his uncle in Earl’s Hollow… but knowing that place, it got too expensive for the guy so they sent him to me.”

“You owe me for this one, Sariah.” The woman turned to Alaric and gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Mage, Vanguard, Archer, Healer or Priest?”

“Vanguard,” Sariah answered.

“Alright then. Take a seat and I’ll get started on the paperwork. Just give me his name and I’ll see you in a bit,” the woman responded.

“Right. The name’s Alistair,” Sariah answered before ushering Alaric away from the reception.

Alaric’s mind was buzzing with one question… ‘What’s a Priest?’ He could almost feel his guardian’s embarrassment.

Moments later, Alaric was seated with Sariah at an empty table in silence. There were still a few eyes on them in the guild but Alaric was slowly learning to ignore them. His eyes had already scanned through their auras and so far so good.

Well, almost everyone here was capable of murder but none of them had turned that murderous intent on Alaric. They were quick to hostility but none had any real malice towards him.

The worst emotion he’d picked up was curiosity and even then it was a negative emotion because of Alaric’s own nerves. “So, Helga is… nice.”

“Yeah, she’s been working here for five years. The guys give her a lot of trouble though… that’s why she might come across as cold sometimes, especially to a guy. But you’ll get used to her. She’s helped me a lot regarding Guild matters and policies,” Sariah replied.

“Will the… test take long?” Alaric asked.

“It shouldn’t be too long. They just want to figure out whether you’ll be deadweight out there. Adventurers have rankings and they want to know which one would best suit you. It will determine what kind of quests you can take on.

The ranks from bottom to top are Copper, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Emerald and Platinum. Six ranks in total. You’ll be lucky to find a Platinum-ranked adventurer though… Those are far too rare,” she explained.

“What rank was Gar—I mean, Gandalow, as an adventurer?” Alaric asked.

“Gandalow and I were gold-ranked at the time,” the woman responded with a sombre expression. Earlier that morning, ‘Gandalow’ had said his goodbyes along with numerous apologies.

“Are you Emerald now?” Alaric asked, half-expecting her to say yes.

“No, unfortunately. I’m still gold-ranked,” the woman replied with a nervous chuckle.

"But…?”

“The gap between Gold and Emerald is too wide. We’re divided into ten tiers. I’m a sixth-tier Gold Rank. It’s hard to rise through the ranks as an adventurer once you get to the higher ones.

Not to mention increasing one’s Temper Rank gets harder and more expensive once you get to the Wood Rank,” the woman responded with a sigh, “You can spend weeks to months circulating Spirit Essence and aether and still only get halfway through one level.”

“There are other ways to increase one’s Temper Rank though, aren’t there? The bath Gandalow drew up for my Awakening, for example,” the boy tried.

“Ah, that first Temper Ritual made everything seem so easy. But you’re right, there are other ways to rise through the ranks. Of course, those ways require more than just dedication or endless training,” the woman responded.

Now, Alaric was even more interested. It was interesting enough that he’d managed to skip past the whole Glass Temper Rank, but that only told him how much bigger the gap between ranks was going to get from here on out.

He was already coming to terms with how rigid Spirit Essence was. Unlike aether, the powerful substance that was Spirit Essence was just too cumbersome to use that Alaric shuddered whenever he thought of having to circulate it through his Spirit Vessel.

“What will I need?” he asked.

“Money, of course,” a voice suddenly interrupted them. Alaric turned in time to see a man dressed in leather armour with a sword hanging on his back. A thick stubble littered his chin, covering a scar that ran along the base of his jaw.

Alaric ignored the man’s appearance, imposing aura and everything else that suggested he should be careful and said, “And you are?”

The man’s eyes went wide, “He’s got guts. I like him… Where did you get this fish, Sariah?”

“He’s my nephew,” she replied, “Ignore his sharp tongue. It doesn’t know what’s good for it. Alistair, this is Guildmaster Schiller. He might not look it but he’s actually an Emerald Class adventurer. One of very, very few…”

The man puffed out his chest with pride, “Even better, I’m the one that will be giving you that test. So you said you want to play the part of a Vanguard, eh? Let’s see how you handle yourself in a fight against me.”

Alaric felt his heart sink. He was skilled for a boy his age… but his opponent wasn’t a boy his age. ‘Why do I always end up fighting men twice my age?’

[ Think about it like practice. You get to learn a few things from the way this man fights ] Alia replied with a chuckle.

[ No, this is not practice. The last time I fought someone powerful, I got my head chopped off! ] the boy mentally screamed.

By this time, the Guildmaster was walking off, laughing boisterously at the expression he’d left on Alaric’s face, “He won’t… kill me, will he?”

Sariah chuckled, “No, he won’t. Only two people in Melbourne can match his strength, so just do your best.”

What she didn’t tell him, however, was that the Guildmaster never personally stepped in to test someone… ever.