"Enough of this nonsense," Lucian snapped.
...
A heavy silence fell over the room. The guard stood frozen, and Veira's "healer" mask finally began to crack.
Lucian stepped toward the trembling husband and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "I will cover the fee. Take your wife and leave this place. Don't ever bother returning to this scum. Understood?"
Tears blurred the man's vision as he nodded frantically. He gathered his wife into his arms and hurried out the door without a backward glance.
Lucian turned his gaze toward the two remaining figures. "Tell me," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Does it feel good to scam a man desperate to save his wife?"
The question caught them off guard. Veira's chirpy, melodic tone vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, jagged edge of irritation. "And what would a child like you know about it?"
Lucian didn't break his stride as he began walking toward the exit. "Not much," he replied calmly. "Except that perhaps you lead a life so miserable you feel the need to spread that misery to everyone you touch."
The guard's face turned a violent shade of red. He moved to intercept, but Veira held up a hand to stop him, her eyes narrowed. "Oh? What a saint you are! And just where do you think you're going?"
"Are you afraid I'll run away without paying?" Lucian asked, not even looking back. "You aren't even worth running from. Though, if you were a cockroach, I might step aside to avoid the mess."
"You... you brat! You're saying we're lower than—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Lucian was gone.
The Adventurers Guild
They hurried outside, trailing him like angry shadows. Lucian was already heading toward a massive, weathered building: the Adventurers Guild. He knew the layout of these hubs thanks to Still's guidance.
As they reached the entrance, Veira reached out and snagged his arm. Lucian yanked it back with a look of pure disdain.
"I told you, I'm going to sell some belongings to cover the debt," he snapped. "If you don't believe me, feel free to follow."
"Or you're just terrified and looking for an alley to hide in!" Veira smirked, her irritation turning into a mocking playfulness. "You're an interesting young man. Is this how you were taught to speak to your elders?"
Lucian let out a short, dry laugh. "Elders? You act more like a vulture. My mother taught me to respect those worthy of it. Everyone else is just... trash."
Veira's jaw tightened. "Oh really? And what am I in your little world?"
"Worse than trash," Lucian mused, tapping his chin. "You aren't even a monster. You're just an insect."
That was the breaking point. The guard erupted, unsheathing his blade with a metallic shing and lunging at Lucian's back. But Lucian was already stepping across the threshold of the Guild—a sanctuary where violence was strictly forbidden.
The Guild's internal sentry moved with blinding speed, catching the guard's blade with a single hand, the metal groaning under the pressure. The gate guard was forced back, humiliated, while Lucian and the Priestess entered the hall.
The Registration
The Guild was a sea of chaos and steel. Every table was packed with adventurers forming parties or debating over the quest board. Mages in hooded robes sat beside warriors in heavy plate, their staves and broadswords leaning against the furniture.
As Lucian walked toward the reception desk, the room went quiet. Scores of veteran eyes tracked the newcomer.
Why is everyone staring? Lucian thought, a small spark of nerves flickering in his chest.
"Because you're a fresh face," Veira whispered behind him, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Look at them. They're hungry. And look at you—wearing high-quality fabric with noble trims. Tell me, are you a little lordling?"
Lucian ignored her as they reached the counter.
"Greetings! Welcome to the Adventurers Guild!" a cheerful receptionist called out. She had short black hair, warm brown skin, and wore the practical, muted linens of a city worker. "How may I help you today?"
"I'd like to register as an adventurer," Lucian said, reclaiming his calm demeanor.
"Understood!" She pulled a sheet of parchment from beneath the desk. "Please fill this out, and I'll explain the rest!"
Lucian took the quill. He began to write Lucian Altair, but stopped. The hunt for his family name was likely still active. He scratched it out and wrote his mother's name instead. When he reached 'Hometown,' he hesitated again, simply writing 'Village.'
Registration Form
Name: Lucian Eureka Age: 16 Birthdate: January 5, 1056 Hometown: Village Occupation: Mage Element: [Blank]
He slid the paper back. The receptionist, whose name tag read Lykee, scanned it carefully. "For final verification, may I see your ID?"
Lucian's heart skipped. He didn't have one. Think... He reached into his pouch, pretending to rummage through monster remains. He visualized his mother's old identification card, focusing on the weight and texture. Beneath his fingers, the shape-shifting tool Snow responded to his will, mimicking the cold plastic and embossed lettering.
He pulled it out and handed it over.
Lykee inspected the card for a long moment, comparing it to his form. "Everything seems to be in order. Though," she looked up, a brow raised, "your form says 'Village,' but your ID is registered to Northern Frostreach. It doesn't specify which village."
"I was born in the North," Lucian explained smoothly, his voice unwavering. "But we moved to a small settlement when I was young. I don't recall the name, so I just wrote 'Village.'"
Lykee stared at him for three long seconds. Finally, she smiled. "Well, I suppose that happens more often than you'd think. Here is your ID back, Lucian! I'm Lykee, and I'll be your primary contact from Monday to Wednesday."
She leaned forward, her expression becoming professional. "Now, let's talk about how we do things here in the Guild."