Veil followed Alynia through one of the great doors, his eyes widening at the vast hall before him. To the left stretched a small area filled with tables and chairs. On the right, a large board covered in papers was pinned to the wall, drawing clusters of people—some alone, others gathered in groups.

  At the far end, several counters stood neatly aligned. To the left, a staircase climbed upward, while above their heads an enormous chandelier dominated the room. Mounted trophies of beasts adorned the walls, and the smooth, worn stone floor—scuffed by countless years of passing boots—still gleamed faintly under the light.

  “This… it’s beautiful. I never would’ve imagined such an interior from the outside,” Veil whispered in awe.

  “Better get used to it. From now on, this place is going to be your second home, Little Wolf,” Alynia said with a smile at his expression. “Come on, let’s get you registered.”

  The hall buzzed with noise: mugs clinking together, conversations overlapping, the scratch of quills on paper. Yet as they advanced, eyes began to follow them, and voices dropped strangely low. A tension spread, subtle but heavy.

  Veil felt the shift immediately, a weight pressing in his gut. He glanced at Alynia, who strode forward unfazed. Then, a rough, forced laugh cut through the silence.

  “Well, look who we’ve got here. Alynia’s back. Thought you were dead by now—fed to those CryoWolves,” a man sneered, his voice laced with malice.

  He wore a black jacket and a hat that shadowed his eyes. He stepped toward Alynia, the click of his boots echoing against the floor.

  “But I see we worried for nothing. Here she is, appearing all saintly, isn’t she?” he went on, his tone shifting to something almost threatening.

  “Shut it, Darnan. This really isn’t the time,” Alynia snapped, her voice sharp.

  Though Veil had seen many sides of Alynia during their travels, it was the first time he felt such raw anger in her voice.

  “Not the time? You must be joking. The guildmaster was about to send a team after you. You—out there, a lone woman—while rookies died to Virkis multiplying like mad. But no, everything’s fine, ladies and gentlemen. The little Wolf wasn’t in danger at all. She was just spreading her legs for the stray pup she dragged back fr—” Darnan snarled.

  He didn’t finish. In one swift motion, Alynia swept her right leg, seized him by the throat, and slammed him to the floor with a sickening thud.

  “Anyone else got something to say? Companion or not, no one talks to me like that. Understood?” Alynia roared, her fury making Veil take a step back. “Pick this trash up before he dies on the floor. That would be an insult to the building itself.”

  Three men hurried forward, hesitant, hauling Darnan’s limp body while keeping wary eyes on Alynia. They slunk out of the guild, leaving behind a silence that quickly filled with whispers as the adventurers resumed their conversations, avoiding her gaze.

  “Don’t you think that was a bit much? I know what he said was awful, but… did you have to go that far?” Veil whispered uneasily.

  “Listen to me. Never let anyone walk over you, understood? Otherwise, you’ll become their toy—and trust me, you don’t want to know what they’re capable of,” she answered, her voice firm. “Now, pick a receptionist, Little Wolf. Outside of substitutions, she’ll be the one you’ll go to for anything guild-related.”

  Veil turned toward the counters, scanning those available. The attendants all wore the same outfit: a white blouse, a leather corset, and a green cape. Among those free, three women stood out.

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  In the middle sat a human with chestnut hair tied in a ponytail. Her eyes were fixed on the papers she scribbled over. She didn’t seem unpleasant, but her expression gave off an air that felt a little too strict.

  The second, on the left, was an elf easily recognized by the long, pointed ears, her right ear adorned with a small jewel. Her blonde hair flowed down to the small of her back, rippling with every subtle motion. Her green eyes and gentle smile gave off a comforting warmth.

  The third was a woman whose ears were hidden beneath her brown, black-speckled hair. Perched atop her head, two curved feathers twitched at every sound. Her eyes—far too large for her face—had oversized pupils that constantly shifted in size.

  “I don’t know… the one in the middle looks a little scary with that stare. She seems strict. But the one on the right looks annoyed the moment someone gets close,” Veil muttered, eyeing them each in turn.

  He felt a hand press lightly against his shoulder, nudging him forward.

  “They’re not going to eat you. Well, maybe the owl-woman might nibble if you irritate her,” Alynia said with a quiet laugh.

  Veil moved toward the center counter, where the elf greeted him with a bright smile.

  “Hello there. What can I do for you?” she asked, her voice soft and pleasant.

  “Uh… Hello. I… I’d like to register,” Veil replied nervously.

  Her lips curved into a reassuring smile, easing the knot in his stomach.

  “Ohh, a new adventurer. It’s been a while since we’ve had a youngster like you. Come with me—we’ll get everything sorted, alright?” she said warmly. “Lucinia, cover for me, please. I’ve got a registration to handle.”

  She stepped out from behind the counter while another woman took her place, and motioned for Veil to follow. Together they climbed the stairs and entered a small, well-lit room with two simple chairs and a little table in the center.

  “Have a seat. I’ll grab what I need and then explain everything,” she said, pointing toward one of the chairs.

  Veil sat down, tense, his hands clenching against his knees as his eyes wandered over the bare room. The receptionist returned a moment later, carrying a small jar and several scrolls under one arm. She set them on the table before sitting across from him, her gaze steady.

  “Alright, first things first. Do you know how a guild works?” she asked, pulling a quill and parchment closer.

  “Not really, no. Just what Alynia told me. But with everything that happened, she didn’t have time to explain much,” Veil admitted.

  “I see. Well, adventurers are divided by rank, from F up to A. Even if you can slay a dragon, without a special recommendation you start at the bottom. Beyond that, there are three special ranks—but we’ll get to those if you ever earn the right to reach them,” she explained slowly.

  “Yes, she mentioned them briefly. The S, SS, and S+ ranks… for people who accomplish extraordinary feats,” Veil added during a pause.

  “That’s correct. The higher your rank, the harder the missions—but also, the better the rewards. All guilds follow roughly the same system. For now, you’ll be starting with smaller requests. Each morning, new missions are posted on the board downstairs. You pick the one that interests you, bring it to me, and I’ll register it for you,” she continued.

  Veil listened carefully, absorbing every word. Traveling with Alynia had already been overwhelming enough, but each explanation here opened a new world before him.

  “And… what happens if someone doesn’t take any missions?” he asked, frowning slightly.

  “Oh, if you don’t take on missions, it’s not a big deal. But know this—if you go a whole year without activity, you’ll lose your license, along with your rank and your right to identity. You’d have to register all over again, starting from the bottom,” she explained while continuing to scribble on her parchment.

  “I see… a year to stay active. Since I’m with Alynia, I suppose she takes missions often. That shouldn’t be a problem,” Veil murmured.

  The young woman set her paper down and walked to the window, throwing it open wide. A cool breeze drifted in, easing Veil’s nerves.

  “Well, yes… but not exactly. Alynia is an A-rank. Starting as F-rank, you can’t join missions more than two ranks above your own. If she takes on a B-rank job, you won’t be able to follow. If you ignore that rule, you’ll both be banned from every guild for two years,” she said more firmly. “It might seem unfair, but it’s meant to protect inexperienced adventurers.”

  Veil didn’t reply, but her words struck him all too clearly.

  After what we went through in the dungeon, it makes sense they wouldn’t let someone inexperienced take on dangerous jobs, he thought, his gaze drifting into memory.

  “I won’t bother explaining the rest for now. Until you rise in rank, it won’t be of much use to you. Do you have any other questions?” she asked.

  Veil shook his head, and the receptionist sat back down, picking up her parchment again.

  “Good. Now I’ll explain the next step, and then we’ll complete your registration,” she continued.

  She leaned to the side of her chair and picked up an object Veil hadn’t even noticed: a brand-new satchel, just like the one Alynia carried.

  “We provide each adventurer with a small pouch for carrying loot. It might look tiny, but it can hold up to ten times its size. Because of repeated thefts, only the small models are issued now. But they’re more than enough for beginners,” she said, handing it to him.

  Veil rose and strapped the satchel onto his new belt, shifting it to his hip so it wouldn’t get in the way. He opened it and slipped his crystalline dagger inside, hiding it from view. The young woman raised an eyebrow at the sight of the blade but chose not to comment.

  “Perfect. Take care of it—the guild won’t give you another one. If you damage it, you’ll have to pay for a replacement. And if you want a better one, you’ll need to find a merchant who sells them,” she added.

  “Thank you, I’ll take good care of it. But… isn’t this a bit early? What if I’m rejected?” Veil asked, puzzled.

  “It’s true we’re not finished yet. But we don’t reject anyone, except for those already banned—and we know exactly who they are. Now, I’ll need you to wait here a few minutes while I hand in these papers and fetch the ones for your registration,” she explained, gathering the items from the table.

  Veil nodded, sinking deeper into the chair as she walked toward the door. Countless questions still swirled in his mind. But for now, only one thought mattered.

  He was about to step into the life of an adventurer.

  Perhaps, at last, he would find a purpose—a path forward through the turmoil within him.