The gates to the Central Adventurer Guild loomed like the mouth of some ancient beast carved into marble and brass. Twin lion statues flanked the entrance, claws resting atop jeweled shields, their eyes set with shimmering sapphire stones. Above the gate, a golden banner rippled in the breeze, embroidered with the words:
"Strength. Will. Coin."
Kai Everhart stood at the bottom of the long stone stairs leading up to that gate, his patched brown boots soaked from morning drizzle, his fingers clenched tightly around the strap of his secondhand satchel. Inside: one half-eaten apple, a canteen, three bent spoons, a spare shirt, and a book called Famous Adventurer Deaths and How to Avoid Them (Probably).
He swallowed hard.
He was finally here. The Guild.
The same Guild that had spawned the legendary Cloud Reaper. The Crimson Dancer. Steel Popeye. The place where heroes were made.
The place where he, Kai Everhart—former goat-brusher of Fogvale Village—would become one of them.
"Cool. Casual. Mysterious." He whispered it like a spell under his breath.
He took his first step forward.
A courier on a galloping pony cart splashed straight through a nearby puddle.
The water arced through the air in perfect, slow-motion glory—then slammed full-force into Kai's legs.
"GAH—!"
His foot slipped backward, heel lost traction, and before he could even shout a proper curse, gravity claimed him like a bounty.
SPLORCH.
Kai landed back-first in a deep, muddy puddle beside the registration platform. His left boot came off with a faint pop. His pants were soaked. His pride shattered in front of a full crowd of fellow applicants, most of whom were now staring at him in awkward silence.
One snickered.
Another laughed.
Then the whole line began to giggle, and someone shouted, "Oi! The puddle brought his own mascot!"
Kai blinked up at the grey morning sky. A bird flew overhead. It may have been a vulture.
He sat up slowly, peeling a wet leaf off his face.
"Cool," he said weakly, and then coughed out a bit of mud.
---
He got up, pulled his boot out of the puddle with a squelch, and limped toward the line. As he passed the gathered hopefuls, he tried to look confident. Like it was all planned. Like a dramatic entrance. Like slipping in front of over two hundred adventurer hopefuls was the mark of a true professional.
The girl standing ahead of him—tall, red-haired, holding a glowing staff—looked him up and down, clearly unimpressed.
"You're dripping," she said.
Kai straightened. "It's… a water-based defensive technique. High-level stuff."
She raised an eyebrow. "Right."
He shut his mouth.
The line moved forward. A clerk with a monocle and a clipboard took Kai's name, asked his village, and then frowned at the empty space where Kai's "combat experience" section was left blank.
"…Have you ever killed a monster?" the clerk asked.
"I once yelled at a squirrel until it left my goats alone."
There was a pause. The clerk wrote something down. Probably Squirrel Hero.
Kai was given a brass pin, a trial badge, and a number: 86.
"Report to the East Training Grounds before sunrise," the clerk said. "Try not to die. Next!"
Kai stepped away and glanced down at the number. Eighty-six.
He glanced back at the red-haired girl. She had just received badge number 85.
"Looks like we're neighbors," he said, offering a muddy thumbs-up.
She didn't look at him. "Don't follow me."
He grinned anyway.
Then, a shadow passed overhead—massive wings. Everyone paused to look up as a sky-serpent mount glided past the tower and circled the plaza. Its rider was cloaked in black and silver, armor gleaming in the morning sun.
Kai stared, awe in his eyes.
One day, he thought. That'll be me.
Maybe with a helmet next time.
---
The East Training Grounds were nothing like Kai expected.
He thought: maybe an arena. Maybe banners. A shining stone courtyard lined with magical glyphs. Statues of adventurers locked in eternal battle.
Instead: it was a gravel lot behind the main guild hall with a lopsided fence, a few faded wooden dummies, and a smell somewhere between damp straw and blood sausage.
The other applicants were already lined up in three uneven rows. Some wore matching gear—fancy leather vests, weapons slung neatly over their backs. Others looked like they'd walked out of a cosplay contest. One girl was in full silver armor. Another had a birdcage strapped to her back.
Kai, still damp, still mud-crusted, slunk into place at the edge of the third row. He was, at least, no longer the worst-dressed. That honor now went to the boy beside him wearing fingerless gloves and eyeliner, who was currently whispering to his own reflection in a polished shield.
"Are you… okay?" Kai whispered.
The boy turned, narrowed his eyes dramatically. "The abyss speaks only to those who have seen its smile. Fear not, peasant. The eclipse shall pass over thee as well."
Kai blinked. "Cool."
Chuunibyou. Definitely chuunibyou.
A loud metallic CLANG cut through the courtyard. All eyes snapped toward the front, where a dwarven man was standing atop an overturned shield, slamming a ladle against it like a war drum.
He was short—barely over four feet—but wide, wrapped in steel pauldrons and a bushy brown beard streaked with silver. A gold medallion in the shape of a gauntlet hung from his neck.
When he spoke, it was gravel dipped in whiskey.
"Right, you bunch of brain-sprained hatchlings, listen up."
Silence.
"I'm Guildmaster Gorim. You call me sir, boss, or Guildmaster. Call me uncle and I'll feed your teeth to a troll. Welcome to the entrance exam. Most of you'll fail."
Some scattered chuckles. He didn't smile.
"Not joking. Of the hundred and two fools standing here, maybe five will make it past D-Rank. Half of you will quit before winter. A quarter will die in your first year. The rest'll wish you had."
Kai looked around. Nervous glances. Someone near the front gulped.
"This isn't a joke. This isn't a story. This is the Guild. You get coin if you kill things fast and don't piss off too many nobles. You get ranked based on performance. You get ranked down for failing. You get eaten if you get cocky."
He tapped the ladle to the metal.
"Today's your chance to show you're not useless. There's three trials. Physical, magical, and mental. You pass two of the three, we give you a badge. You pass none—you go home."
He looked straight at Kai.
"Or back to whatever goat-patting hole you crawled out of."
Kai tried not to shrink.
Gorim gestured to the side. Several armored instructors stood by stations: an obstacle course, a sparring ring, and what looked like a spell-target range glowing with enchanted circles.
"Groups of ten. By badge number. Move."
The line began to shuffle. Kai took a breath.
Next to him, the chuunibyou boy extended a hand. "You may call me Zaveid. Obsidianblade of the Forsaken Cross."
"Kai," he said, shaking it. "Uh… of the Stable."
Zaveid gave a single approving nod. "We are marked, you and I. I felt it the moment the mud touched your soul."
"…Thanks?"
The girl in silver armor two spaces ahead turned back, already annoyed. "If either of you steps on my cloak, I will break your fingers."
Kai smiled awkwardly.
He was already making friends.
Sort of.
---
The obstacle course smelled like sweat, pine tar, and bad ideas.
Kai stood in line with the rest of Badge Group 80–89, staring at a lineup of increasingly sadistic challenges: rope climbs over spike pits, balance beams slick with enchanted oil, and a final wall twice as tall as the tavern back home.
The instructor—a bored elf with a clipboard and a broken nose—blew a whistle through his teeth. "One at a time. Fail more than twice, you're out. Go!"
Badge 80, a scrawny guy in goggles, ran forward. Fell off the second rope. Landed in a bush. Cursed loudly.
Badge 81: fast, smooth, clearly trained.
Badge 82: slipped, cried, quit.
Kai adjusted his boot—still damp—and stepped forward when his number was called.
His group watched.
"Ever done this before?" Zaveid asked.
"Sort of," Kai said. "I used to chase goats uphill."
He charged forward.
The rope climb was... not great. He grunted, slipped, got a mouthful of frayed twine. But he made it over, barely, arms burning.
Balance beam. Oil-slicked. Wobbly. He flailed halfway, then dropped into the net with a loud oof.
From behind: laughter.
"Oh gods, he's flopping like a fish!"
Kai climbed out, blushing, and jogged to the wall.
Okay. Wall. Just a wall. Walls don't laugh. Just climb. Just—
He jumped, grabbed the edge—and didn't make it.
He slid down.
"Try again," the elf said, disinterested.
Kai backed up, ran, jumped again—this time caught a crevice in the wood. He groaned, pulled, feet scrambling, and just as his grip started to slip—
"Almost there!" Zaveid shouted.
He didn't look down. Didn't breathe.
One final pull.
He rolled over the top and flopped onto the landing mat like a beached seal.
Applause. Scattered, but real.
Even the elf raised one eyebrow.
---
Next came the magic trial.
This was worse.
The applicants stood in a sand pit facing a row of glowing spheres. The goal was simple: project your mana into the orb, force it to turn blue.
Kai had never projected mana before.
He squinted. Focused. Thought hard.
The orb stayed grey.
"Think angrier!" shouted someone.
He imagined the merchant who once sold him spoiled milk.
The orb buzzed… and exploded in a puff of smoke.
Coughing, Kai stepped back. "That counts, right?"
The instructor sighed.
Badge 85 stepped up—red-haired, focused. She pointed at the orb.
"Firebolt."
It turned blue immediately and flared with controlled heat.
Kai turned. "That was amazing."
She scowled. "You're still dripping on the sand."
---
Final trial: the written exam.
Ten questions. One page. Timed.
First question: "List three forms of elemental affinity in correct mana sequence."
Kai stared.
Second question: "Translate the following Arkan script."
He chewed the end of his pencil.
Third: "Identify this monster." The sketch looked like a very angry cabbage.
Kai guessed: Angry Cabbage Beast. Herbivore? Explodes??
---
By the end, he slumped in his chair, head buzzing, stomach growling.
Most others finished quickly. Some left whispering.
And then—during clean-up—a loud crack came from the climbing wall. A girl on the final obstacle lost her grip and fell—
Straight toward the edge of the pit.
Kai didn't think.
He bolted forward, dove under her, caught her mid-air—
And promptly got flattened.
They both hit the mud.
Groaning, he blinked. "...You okay?"
The girl—silver armor, furious—pushed off him. "I had it!"
"You were falling."
"I was fine."
"You yelled 'HELP ME.'"
She stood, brushed off, and marched away.
But the elf instructor stared at Kai, then jotted something down.
For once, it wasn't a frown.
---
An hour later, a metal bell rang three times over the guild courtyard.
All the applicants—mud-stained, exhausted, bruised, and sunburned—gathered near a large oak board at the edge of the main hall. Several clerks were pinning parchment sheets onto it in careful columns.
The murmuring crowd swelled.
Kai pushed through behind Zaveid, who was muttering something about "prophetic winds of fate" under his breath.
"Ranked by performance score," someone whispered. "Top to bottom."
"Oh no," Kai muttered.
He scanned the sheet, eyes flying past names he didn't recognize. Then—
#98 – Kai Everhart
Physical Trial: Partial Pass
Magic Trial: Failed
Written Exam: Failed
Bonus Note: "Demonstrated creative improvisation under stress. Considered for advancement under auxiliary clause 7."
He blinked.
"Auxiliary clause?" he mumbled.
Zaveid peered over his shoulder. "It means you made an impression. The system of ranking cannot contain your chaotic soul."
"Right," Kai said, unsure if that was comforting or not.
A few feet away, someone laughed. "Did you see this guy? Ninety-eight! He practically died trying to climb a wall!"
"Oh yeah," someone else said. "And the puddle guy! That's him!"
Kai glanced up. Yep—eye contact with about four chuckling applicants. One even pantomimed a dramatic fall with flailing arms and a splash sound.
His cheeks burned.
"You," came a voice beside him.
He turned. It was the red-haired girl again—Badge 85. She was reading the list with a deep scowl.
"Wait, you're ahead of me?"
Kai blinked. "Huh?"
She pointed. Sure enough:
#99 – Lira Flamewind
Physical Trial: Pass
Magic Trial: Pass
Written Exam: Zero
Note: "Set test sheet on fire during question three."
"You beat me," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You. The mud idiot."
"Well," Kai said, "maybe they liked my penmanship?"
She stormed off without another word.
Kai exhaled.
Then smiled.
Because in all the noise, all the teasing, all the mockery—he had passed.
Barely. Technically.
But it counted.
He touched the brass badge pinned to his chest. It glinted in the sun—cheaply, but real.
E-Rank Candidate: Kai Everhart.
He was officially—somehow—a step closer to becoming an adventurer.
Zaveid slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Today, mud. Tomorrow, the abyss throne."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"
Zaveid grinned. "I have no idea."
---
The city of Altheon burned gold beneath the sunset.
From his perch behind the guild hall, Kai watched the rooftops shimmer in that perfect in-between hour—after the crowds thinned, before the lanterns flickered on. The chimney lines looked like crooked soldiers, and somewhere in the distance, a musician was playing something lazy and soft on a flute.
Kai sat on a barrel, legs swinging, boots still slightly damp, badge clutched in both hands.
It was small. Scuffed. The E-Rank mark etched crookedly, like the engraver had sneezed halfway through.
He loved it.
"Okay," he said aloud. "Step one: survive the exam. Nailed it. Step two: don't get kicked out on day one. TBD."
He leaned back, glancing up at the cloudy sky.
Someone nearby was arguing over rations. Horses clopped on cobblestone. A cat meowed from a nearby roof and was promptly ignored by two pigeons.
"I'm really here," he whispered.
His fingers traced the edge of the badge. It was warm from his grip.
"Maybe I'm not smart, or strong, or... anything. But I'm here."
A flutter of wings broke the quiet.
Kai ducked just as a fat white bird divebombed past his ear and landed directly on his head.
"GAH—what the—?!"
The bird squawked once, then pecked the top of his hair. Hard.
"Ow! Hey! Personal space!"
It dropped something.
A scroll.
Right onto his lap.
Kai stared at it, then back up. The bird was already waddling off the roof, flapping away with all the elegance of a drunk cloud.
He slowly unrolled the parchment.
To: Kai Everhart
From: Adventurer Guild Assignment Office
Subject: Initial Placement Notification
Tomorrow morning – Training Room C
You are to report for team formation. Rank E. Try not to die.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then laughed.
Soft. Shaky. Honest.
He folded the scroll, tucked it into his satchel, and leaned back on the barrel, staring at the sky again. A single star blinked into view.
"I won't die," he said. "Not before I earn Rank S."
The barrel creaked beneath him.
"…Hopefully."
---