The Stonebound Guild stood near the outer stretch of the district, its presence unmistakable without needing grandeur. Wide steps led up to its entrance, worn slightly from constant use. The doors were heavy, reinforced, marked by age and repetition rather than decoration.
Adventurers moved in and out without pause.
Some alone. Some in groups.
Armor clinked. Weapons rested against shoulders. Conversations overlapped—brief, practical, unceremonious.
This was not a place for display.
This was a place for work.
Arin slowed as he approached the steps, his gaze lifting toward the entrance.
The moment Arin stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
The noise didn't disappear—it condensed.
The guild hall stretched wide and high, its ceiling supported by thick stone pillars that carried the weight of years rather than decoration. At its center hung a large iron chandelier, its frame aged but sturdy, holding several embedded magic stones that cast a steady, warm glow across the hall.
It wasn't luxurious.
But it was authoritative.
This was a place built for function—refined over time, not designed to impress.
Movement filled the space.
Adventurers crossed paths constantly, some returning from work, others preparing to leave. Armor bore scratches. Weapons showed use. Conversations were short, practical, often unfinished as people moved on before they fully ended.
To the right, a separate passageway led toward the rear of the building. Arin's gaze followed it briefly.
A group of adventurers pushed a heavy wooden trolley through it, its wheels creaking under the weight. The contents were unmistakable—bundled hides, sealed containers, crude sacks stained dark at the edges.
Fresh work.
That was where the results went.
Evaluation. Payment. Records.
A system.
Arin took all of it in without lingering too long on any one detail.
Then his attention shifted forward.
The reception counter stood near the far end of the hall, long enough to handle multiple requests at once, though only one attendant stood there for now.
An elf.
She stood straight behind the counter, posture composed, movements precise. Her hair fell in soft strands of pale gold, neatly arranged, and her sharp features carried a quiet elegance that contrasted the roughness of the hall around her.
A thin-framed pair of glasses rested lightly on her nose—just enough to soften her otherwise sharp presence.
Her eyes lifted as Arin approached.
Clear.
Observant.
Professional.
"Welcome to the Stonebound Guild," she said, her voice calm and even. "How may I assist you?"
Arin stopped at the counter.
The helmet concealed his face. The cloak dulled his presence.
Exactly as intended.
"I want to register," he said. "As an adventurer."
There was no hesitation in her response.
"Name?" she asked, her tone steady and professional.
Arin didn't pause.
"Zerath."
The name left him cleanly—without weight, without doubt.
No adjustment. No second thought.
Just a name.
Her gaze lingered on him for half a second longer than necessary—not suspicious, but noting.
Then she nodded.
"Very well."
She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small ledger, flipping it open with practiced ease.
"My name is Elira," she said as she began writing. "I'll be handling your registration."
Her pen moved steadily across the parchment.
"Registration fee is five silver coins. Non-refundable."
Arin's expression didn't change, though the number settled in his mind with quiet clarity.
Five silver.
Not cheap.
For a brief moment, his fingers brushed lightly against the inside of his cloak—where the merit badge rested, hidden from sight. With that, the process would have been easier. Cheaper, perhaps. Recognized.
But recognition was exactly what he didn't want.
Anything tied to that badge could be traced.
And Arin… wasn't the one standing here.
Zerath was.
The thought passed as quickly as it came, leaving no hesitation behind.
He reached into his pouch and placed the five silver coins on the counter without a word.
Elira counted them once. Clean. Efficient.
Then closed the ledger.
"Your initial registration is complete," she said, her pen still moving as she finished noting down the last of his details. "You will begin as an F-rank adventurer."
Arin's gaze lingered on her for a moment, a faint crease forming between his brows.
"…That's it?" he asked. "There's no evaluation? No trial… or test to prove capability before registration?"
For someone used to stories where strength was measured before entry, the simplicity felt almost off.
The faintest hint of amusement touched her expression—not enough to be called a smile, but enough to suggest she had heard that question many times before.
"No," she replied calmly. "We don't test people who haven't proven they intend to stay."
"F-rank exists for that reason."
She stepped away from the counter.
"I'll prepare your plate. Wait here."
Arin watched as she disappeared briefly into a side room.
The hall continued moving around him.
This place didn't care who you were until you gave it a reason to.
A few minutes later, she returned.
In her hand was a small steel plate.
She placed it on the counter between them.
"Your guild identification."
Arin picked it up.
Cold. Solid.
Simple.
The surface was cleanly engraved:
Zerath
Rank: F
Below it, the emblem of the Stonebound Guild—
a hammer striking stone—
And beside it, the crest of the Valerion kingdom.
A griffin.
Minimal.
But official.
"Keep it with you at all times," Elira said. "Loss will require reissuance—with additional cost."
Arin gave a small nod.
Then—
"What work is available for F-rank?" he asked.
Elira adjusted her glasses slightly.
"None assigned."
Rain paused.
"…None?"
"F-rank adventurers are not given official missions," she clarified. "At that level, you are expected to assist others. Carry loads. Work as porters. Learn how things function."
Her gaze held steady.
"Or…You may hunt on your own."
Arin's attention sharpened slightly.
"Goblins are the most common starting point," she continued. "Bring back proof—magic stones, fangs, blood. Submit them through the rear evaluation section."
She gestured briefly toward the rear passage, where the trolley had disappeared.
"Your rank increases based on contribution and consistency," Elira said. "Not by request."
Her gaze returned to him, steady behind the thin frame of her glasses.
"For example—twenty-five confirmed goblin eliminations will qualify you for promotion to E-rank."
Arin's attention sharpened slightly.
"Proof matters," she continued. "Magic stones, fangs, blood. Anything that verifies the kill."
A brief pause followed before she went on.
"One hundred goblins will make you eligible for D-rank," she said. "Less, if you're hunting monsters above that tier. Stronger prey carries more weight."
She adjusted the ledger slightly, as if aligning her thoughts with practiced precision.
"From there, things change."
Arin remained silent, listening.
"Advancement beyond D-rank is no longer automatic," she said. "Promotion to C, B, and A requires evaluation."
"Tests conducted by the guild?"
Elira gave a small nod.
"For D to C, and C to B—yes. Those are overseen by experienced adventurers. Typically B-rank and A-rank individuals."
Her tone remained even, but there was a subtle shift—something more deliberate.
"But advancement to A… and beyond that—to S-rank—"
She paused for just a fraction.
"—is not decided here."
Arin's gaze didn't waver.
"Those evaluations are conducted under the authority of the Valerion Kingdom," she said. "S-rank adventurers, high-ranking knights, and designated officials."
The space between her words lingered longer than necessary.
"As you can imagine… very few reach that point."
Her eyes held his for a moment longer before continuing.
"This guild currently has two S-rank adventurers assigned to it."
Arin's interest flickered—just slightly.
"They are not present," she added. "Both are on long-term assignments outside Greyhaven."
A small, almost indifferent pause.
"If you remain long enough… you may see one of them."
No embellishment. No promise. Just fact.
Then—
"For now," she said, "you are F-rank."
Her gaze shifted briefly over his frame—measuring, not judging.
"You will find it… inefficient to work alone."
Arin didn't respond.
"Most beginners join parties," she continued. "It increases survival. Reduces risk."
A slight adjustment of her glasses.
"But that choice is yours."
Silence settled for a moment.
Then, calmly—
"There are no restrictions on what you choose to hunt."
The words landed plainly.
No warning attached.
None needed.
Arin gave a small nod.
"…Got it."
Elira closed the ledger.
"That will be all."
No ceremony.
No encouragement.
Just information.
Arin secured the steel plate, turning slightly as he stepped away from the counter.
The guild continued as it always had.
Unchanged.
Unbothered.
Another adventurer had been added.
Another name had entered the guild's records. No one noticed. No one cared. And that was exactly how Arin needed it to begin.
He walked toward the exit without looking back.
From that moment on, the name Zerath was no longer just an idea—it had weight, a place in the world, a quiet entry carved into the ranks of the unknown.