As he stepped into the guild, the atmosphere hit him with the force of a storm. The place hummed with life, every corner alive with movement, noise, and purpose. Adventurers filled the spacious hall, their presence a vivid tapestry of different races, backgrounds, and personalities.

Some were draped in gleaming full-body armor, their polished steel catching the light in flashes of brilliance, while others were barely covered, their lithe bodies wrapped in cloaks that whispered secrets of shadowed movements. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, a vibrant energy that told stories of countless battles, journeys, and feats accomplished. The smell of sharpened blades, sweat, and faint traces of magic lingered in the air.

Travis' eyes darted around, instinctively sizing up the room. He could already tell who the strong were and who were still learning the ropes. The seasoned adventurers moved with purpose, their every step calculated. They weren't just dressed for battle; their gear bore the marks of real combat, tested and refined by time and trial. It wasn’t just the materials that made their armor impressive—it was the quiet confidence in their posture, the way they commanded respect without speaking a word. There was something raw and powerful about them, an unspoken promise of danger and experience.

The rookies, on the other hand, were easier to spot. They fidgeted nervously, exchanging uncertain glances, their gear new and unscuffed, their movements still carrying that slight hesitation of those who had yet to face the horrors of the world outside the guild walls.

But there was also something vibrant about them—hope, determination, and the promise of growth. In the midst of it all, Travis couldn’t help but feel both an excitement and an undercurrent of nerves. The guild wasn’t just a place to belong—it was a challenge, a proving ground where one’s worth would be determined, not just by what you wore or who you were but by what you could do.

He watched as small groups of adventurers sat at tables on the second floor, their voices rising in a casual rhythm as they spoke of monsters to slay, lands to conquer, and the thrill of unknown battles.

Their laughter filled the room, and there was a sense of camaraderie in the air. These were not just colleagues; they were friends, allies, bound together by their shared pursuit of adventure. Some chatted animatedly over steaming bowls of food, their faces lit with excitement as they relived the day’s victories and shared tips for the next challenge.

Nearby, a group had gathered around the mission board. Eyes flickered from one parchment to the next, calculating the risks and rewards of each job. Their collective focus was palpable, a shared fire that could ignite ambition in even the most uncertain of hearts. There were jobs for every level—monster hunts, treasure retrievals, even high-risk contracts that promised riches for those brave enough to face the unknown.

In the midst of all this, Travis felt a surprising sense of calm. The chaos, the noise, the endless flow of adventurers—it should have been overwhelming, but instead, it was invigorating. There was a rhythm here, an underlying pulse that spoke to him on a deeper level. It was a place for those who wanted more than a quiet life. It was a place where destinies were forged and changed, where the ordinary became extraordinary.

‘Alright. I should probably go follow that line before it gets any longer. Man, it’s so long and the day just started,’ Travis thought, pulling himself out of his reverie.

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The line stretched ahead of him, winding its way to the counter. Each passing moment felt heavier with anticipation. He shuffled forward, mind whirling as he tried to steady his nerves. He had been waiting for this moment for years, but now that it was here, his stomach twisted in a knot.

When he finally reached the counter, a woman behind it greeted him with practiced ease, her voice smooth and professional. "Hey, my name is Glenda. How may I help you today?"

Travis took a breath to steady himself, trying to ignore the sudden wave of anxiety that hit him. "Oh, I’d like to get my evaluation and sign up as an adventurer, please."

"Okay, please step to the side. I’ll get someone to help with that. Thank you," Glenda replied, her tone warm but efficient. She gestured to a nearby corner where other adventurers were waiting their turn. Travis nodded, murmuring a quiet thanks as he moved to stand with the others.

The time in line stretched on. People came and went, some walking with the confident swagger of veterans, while others stepped forward nervously, faces painted with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Travis couldn’t help but observe them. Each face told a different story, but all were driven by the same goal: to be more than they were today.

Soon, another guild employee approached him, a man with a clipboard, and motioned for him to follow. He led Travis through a series of narrow hallways to a small, private room where a gleaming orb sat on a pedestal, bathed in soft light. The orb was simple in design but held an almost otherworldly aura, as if it had witnessed countless stories of greatness—or failure.

"30 Gleams for the evaluation," the man said, holding out a pouch. Travis handed over the coins with a quiet clink, the sound of each one slipping from his hand almost reverberating in his chest.

Standing before the orb, Travis took a slow breath. This was the moment. The one he had been waiting for. The system was simple: the color of the orb’s light would reveal his talent, his potential. He recalled the time long ago when he'd stood in the same spot, a nervous child, only for the orb to glow orange—a low talent, the kind of result that made the orphanage boys laugh.

The ritual had become a rite of passage, something everyone went through. The orb’s color would determine everything about their future.

Orange - Low Talent

Green - Mid Talent

Blue - High Talent

Red - King's Talent

Purple - Emperor’s Talent

The memory of the orange glow still stung. 'I was just a kid... I didn’t understand what it meant back then,' he thought. But now... now, it was different. He was older. Stronger. Better.

"Sir, may I ask what talent you received in your first evaluation?" the examiner’s voice cut through his thoughts.

"It was Low Talent. Why do you ask?"

"Well, now that you're older, your Coreflow is more concentrated. When you transfer your energy, you’ll need to focus all of it. Don’t worry, we have potions for any withdrawal symptoms. Just use all your strength, alright?"

Travis nodded, swallowing the unease that still lingered. He extended his hand toward the orb, his thoughts focused. He imagined the Coreflow surging from his heart, the node in his mind directing the flow down to his palm. As the energy began to move, the orb vibrated, its surface glowing in response.

The light flickered at first—green, then blue—and Travis’s heart leaped. The orb’s light intensified, and he couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. 'Blue. High Talent. Yes!' he thought, elation bubbling in his chest. But just as quickly as it had appeared, the light flickered again—just a brief, almost imperceptible flash of purple.

For a moment, his breath caught in his throat.' Was it? No. ' He blinked and the light steadied back to blue.

“Maybe I’m just hungry,” he thought, brushing the moment aside. He withdrew his hand, taking a deep breath.

The examiner handed him a set of papers, and Travis scanned them quickly. His stomach dropped as his eyes traced the numbers.

Name: Travis

Age: 16

Level: 0

Stats:

Strength: 3

Speed: 4

Stamina: 7

‘Is that it?’ he thought, disappointment settling in. He had expected more. All those grueling hours of working at the fields, all the effort he had put... and this was the result? He couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration. 'I thought they’d be better...'

But then again, this was only the beginning. 'I guess this is just the start,' he reassured himself, the words dull but comforting.

After completing the necessary paperwork, Travis signed up officially as an adventurer. The test was straightforward, and he passed it with relative ease. His class assignment followed swiftly: Class E—humble, but a starting point.

The wooden adventurer’s card felt solid in his hand, surprisingly weighty for something so simple. The insignia of the guild was etched into the surface, marking the first step in his journey. He smiled, despite the disappointment, and slipped the card into his pocket.

'Should I look for a job?' he thought, gazing at the bustling mission board. The possibilities were endless, each job a new path to walk, a new story to shape. He took a step forward, ready to embrace whatever came next.

TO BE CONTINUED