Chapter 10: The Lesson and the First Quest

  The dojo smelled of smoke, iron, and faint Viora still lingering from yesterday’s massacre of bamboo. Master Juro leaned against the porch, arms crossed, eyes glinting like flint.

  “Sky-Boy,” he said, voice calm, “training in the forest is one thing. Now you’ll see how it feels when the world doesn’t pull its punches.”

  Shura straightened. “You mean… a real fight?”

  “Yes,” Juro said. “The Guild has a quest. You’ll take it. Alone. I’ll guide you afterward. You’ll learn what danger really is.”

  Before Shura could argue, Zenkyou stepped forward, crossing her arms. “Old man,” she said flatly, “I already took him to a real fight.”

  Shura froze. “Wait… you—what?”

  “I threw you into a pack of Skitter-Wretches with no weapon and zero guidance,” Zenkyou said, shrugging. “You survived. Barely. That’s lesson one: you’re a menace.”

  Shura’s face twisted. “Menace? You just threw me to monsters! Without a sword, without Guild support! That’s insane!”

  Zenkyou smirked. Before he could say anything, she punched him squarely in the chest. Hard. Air whooshed out of him.

  “Training, idiot,” she said sharply. “Reality isn’t polite.”

  Juro chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s… not wrong. But let’s get practical.” He handed Shura a katana. “Basics first. Grip. Stance. Breath. Flow your Viora into the blade. Don’t fight the weapon. Become it.”

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  Shura nodded, muscles tense, eyes burning with focus.

  “Good. Now,” Juro continued, “you can take the Guild quest. Alone. Think of it as your first real test outside controlled chaos.”

  The streets of Ossuarium were alive with movement. Shura’s steps echoed against stone arches, the faint hum of the Core Beacon thrumming through his chest. He entered the Guild hall—a cavernous place filled with members of all shapes, sizes, and purposes.

  A woman , curly hair and a clipboard practically bouncing in her hands spotted him immediately. “Who are you?” she asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And don’t lie—I can tell when someone’s lying. I once caught a thief claiming he was a Guild official. Turned out he was just bad at lying.”

  Shura blinked. “Uh… Shift from Helionight. Nearby Kingdom.”

  “Shift, huh?” she said, tapping her chin like he’d just invented a new color. “Interesting. ID card?”

  He handed it over. She squinted at it, then blinked. Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Guardian… Zenkyou? Oh. So you’re the new recruit she’s been threatening to scare half the Guild with. I get it now.”

  Shura paused. “She threatens people?”

  Mio shrugged. “Only the idiots. And maybe the ones who complain too much. You seem… promising. Or just completely clueless. Either way, I like it.”

  Shura couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching. She had this Kind energy, like a storm contained in a teacup.

  “So,” Mio said, flipping through a stack of papers like she was flipping channels on a magical TV, “here’s your quest. Dangerous, messy, and slightly illegal if someone asks. Think you’re up for it, Shift?”

  Shura straightened, gripping his katana. “I’ll manage.”

  Mio grinned. “Good. Just don’t die on me. I’d have to write a really depressing report about your demise, and trust me… I hate paperwork.”

  As Shura prepared to leave the Guild with his quest, a figure blocked the doorway.

  “Let me go with you,” the older boy demanded, a smug grin plastered across his face. “You’re new. I’ll show you the ropes. For a small fee, of course.”

  Shura studied him quietly. Spike was the usual type—bully, predator, someone who found new recruits just to take their money.

  But Shura’s expression changed. Slowly, deliberately, he pretended to be weak at first—slumping, feigning fear, letting Spike relax. Then, as Spike leaned in, confident, Shura’s eyes snapped open, cold and unflinching.

  “I meet Empress Rose regularly,” Shura said quietly. “If I tell her about you, your career ends today.”

  Spike stumbled back, pale. Fear replaced his arrogance. He hadn’t expected the new kid to be… different.

  Shura turned on his heel and walked away. Spike didn’t follow.

  The quest itself was brutal. A corridor crawling with venomous Blight Crawlers, a collapsed mine shaft with unstable walls, and a Core Beacon failing nearby. Shura fought his way through, Viora guiding each strike, Katana singing in his hands. He slipped, stumbled, and nearly fell into the abyss of the mine, but he kept moving.

  By the time he returned, chest heaving, clothing torn and bloodied, the sense of accomplishment hit him. Not because the Guild would praise him—but because he had survived, alone, and grown.

  The first real taste of the Deep’s cruelty had been bitter—but satisfying.

  And Shura knew: the real training had only begun.