Veil waited quietly, his eyes drifting over the small room as he sat alone, awaiting the young woman’s return. The door opened—but instead of her, a young boy stepped inside, balancing a small tray with two cups and a teapot. He placed it carefully on the table.

  “G–good morning. I brought you some iced tea,” he said, his voice barely audible.

  The boy picked up the teapot and began pouring the liquid into both cups.

  “Thank you, but… I could’ve done it myself. You don’t need to trouble yourself,” Veil said, a little embarrassed by the gesture.

  “D–don’t worry. It’s part of my job here,” the boy explained.

  He set the teapot back on the tray, then slipped out of the room without another word.

  Veil leaned forward, reaching for one of the cups. A sharp fragrance rose from it, a strange blend of herbs and caramel unmistakable to his senses. Yet another scent lingered there as well—something unfamiliar, one he couldn’t place.

  He raised the cup to his lips and took a hesitant sip. At first, the liquid seemed tasteless. He tried again. This time, bitterness gripped his throat, the harsh taste of herbs stinging, his breathing quickening.

  But then the caramel’s sweetness spread over his tongue, softening the bitterness and easing his discomfort. His eyes watered, yet the flavor shifted once more—warmth mingling with sweetness, calming him, as though all was normal again.

  The door opened once more, and the young woman returned, carrying several sheets of parchment which she set neatly on the table. She sat across from Veil and lifted the second cup, draining it in one go.

  “That hits the spot. Alguanion ash is expensive, but it makes a wonderful tea,” she said, setting the cup back down. “Alright, shall we continue? Not that I’m bored, but if this drags on, I’ll end up working late.”

  Veil didn’t answer, only nodded, hiding how hard it had been for him to drink his portion.

  “Now, I’ll need your name, family name, and age to start with,” she said calmly, her eyes fixed on him.

  “Uh… my first name is Veil,” he replied nervously, swallowing hard as his hands fidgeted in his lap. “But as for the rest… I’m sorry. I don’t remember. I have no memories of my identity beyond that.”

  “Hm… under normal circumstances, that would be strange. But judging by the lost look in your eyes, I’ll believe you. Could you stand up for me, please?” she asked, rising to her feet as well.

  A shiver ran through him. For a moment, he thought this was the end of his adventure before it had even begun. He stood, trembling slightly, and stepped where she indicated.

  She said nothing further, but circled him slowly, as though searching for something. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she returned to her seat, gesturing for him to sit as well.

  “Alright. Judging by your height and features, I’d say you’re still growing. We’ll put your age down as fifteen. Even if it’s not exact, it won’t be an issue,” she said, jotting it onto her parchment.

  “As for your surname… we’ll have to come up with something. Otherwise, we’d have to list you as a vagabond on your card, and that doesn’t sound very classy, does it?” she added with a small smile. “You don’t have any ideas at all?”

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  Veil searched the depths of his memory, desperately trying to recall even the faintest detail that might reveal his name. But nothing came—only darkness filled in by what he’d experienced since the forest. At last, he shook his head, lowering it in silence, his expression weighed with sadness.

  “It’s alright, we’ll come up with something then. How about Wanderer? Sounds a lot better than stamping ‘vagabond’ on your card, don’t you think?” she asked, watching for his reaction.

  “I don’t really have anything better to suggest, so… let’s go with that,” Veil replied with a faint smile.

  The receptionist jotted the information down, then glanced back up at him.

  “Good. Now I’ll need your class. You can choose up to three. Options include tank, warrior, mage, and a few others. Do you already have an idea?” she asked.

  “My class? Well, I know a little magic, and I’d also like to be a warrior. I’m still learning, but if I had to choose, that’s what I’d like to become,” Veil explained.

  “Alright, I’ll note that down. Don’t worry—classes aren’t permanent. If you ever change specialties, we can update your card without issue,” she said, setting her quill aside.

  Placing her hands over the parchment where she had written his details, she closed her eyes and murmured words Veil couldn’t make out. A glow of mingled blue and green radiated from the sheet, the words lifting free from the surface as if peeled away.

  The stream of light drifted onto a small card lying nearby, arranging itself neatly across its surface. With a soft flash, the parchment returned to blank white.

  “Hold out your hand, please. This will sting a little, but I need a drop of your blood to bind the card to you,” she explained, producing a small needle.

  Veil extended his hand. After everything he had endured, a tiny prick was hardly worth worrying about. A bead of blood welled from his finger; she collected it carefully on the needle and let it fall onto the card.

  Again, a glow spread across it—but this time, Veil could read what appeared.

  “There. It’s done. Your blood is stored in the card now, so it also carries your mana signature. That means you’ll be able to read it without trouble, while others will only see a blank card—except for those close to you,” she added, handing it over with a smile.

  Veil held the card for a long moment. Even though he knew the name written there wasn’t truly his, he now had a complete identity. He slipped it into a small pocket of his satchel, then glanced back at the receptionist as she tidied up the desk.

  “So… is that it? What do I do now?” he asked, looking uncertain.

  “Yes, that’s all. From here on, whenever you’re ready, you can come to the counter and choose a quest. You can pick one from the board, as I mentioned, or come directly to me and I’ll assign you one,” she explained calmly. “And if I’m not here, you can see Lucinia. She covers for me on my days off.”

  “Alright… but can I wait a bit? I’d like to look around first before jumping into all this,” Veil admitted.

  “Of course. Take as much time as you like. As long as you complete one quest a year, you could even go traveling. And I nearly forgot—if you accept a quest in another guild, it still counts here,” she added, opening the door. “Come see me whenever you’re ready. We’ll start off slow, don’t worry.”

  Veil rose, nodding a quiet farewell before leaving the small room and descending the stairs. Down below, the adventurers had already resumed their conversations, as though the earlier clash between Alynia and the man had never happened.

  Alynia sat alone at a table, the empty seats around her hinting at how others avoided her. Veil walked over and dropped heavily into the chair across from her.

  “Well, there you are at last. Any longer and I would’ve thought you were flirting with that little elf to add her to your list of conquests,” Alynia teased with a laugh.

  “Admit it—you’d be jealous if I looked at someone else, wouldn’t you?” Veil shot back, wiping the smile from her face.

  “Don’t mistake dreams for reality, Little Wolf. I may be sixteen, but I’m not chasing after the first man I see. The one who’ll stand at my side hasn’t even been born yet,” she retorted sharply.

  “Well, if you keep slamming guys’ heads into the ground every time they talk to you, you’re not going to find many either. But seriously, why do you hate people so much? Since we got here, you’ve been awfully harsh about everyone,” Veil asked.

  “This isn’t the time for that conversation. And it’s none of your business. Get yourself a drink, then we’ll head out for a proper meal. You’ll see—it’s nothing like CryoWolf meat,” she cut him off, handing him a small card.

  Veil scanned the menu, realizing he wouldn’t get any further with her. He ordered a simple fruit juice, which a waitress brought over moments later. His gaze, however, drifted to the young boy serving another table behind her.

  He looked far more cheerful than when Veil had seen him upstairs, laughing and chatting with adventurers as he worked.

  “What, planning to charm the boys now too? If you keep staring at him like that, people are going to start getting ideas,” Alynia muttered.

  “No, it’s not like that. When I saw him upstairs, he seemed uneasy around me. I was just surprised to see him laughing here,” Veil replied, bringing his eyes back to Alynia.

  He finished his drink at the same time she drained hers, wondering where they would go next.

  “Come on, let’s get food. We need to talk about what comes next. Afterward, we’ll head into town and get you some proper equipment. I can’t let you take on your first missions like this. And don’t show your dagger to anyone unless absolutely necessary, understood? Plenty of people would covet it—it’s not the kind of weapon you find at the average shop,” Alynia explained as she stood.

  Veil nodded, rising as well, and followed her toward the exit. The sun still bathed the city in its warmth, though the houses provided a pleasant shade. They walked silently, making their way once more up the bustling main street.

  The clamor of merchants shouting their prices, hammers striking metal, and countless other city sounds filled the air. At last, they stopped in front of a large building, a modest sign hanging above the door: Elclin’s Inn.

  “You’ll see—I don’t know a better place to eat. And their prices are more than fair if you’re looking to stay the night,” Alynia explained.

  But Veil barely listened. The aroma wafting from within had already set his stomach growling. Scents of roasted meats and steaming vegetables blended in the air, vivid enough to make his imagination spin. He could almost taste them already—so different from the charred scraps of monster meat cooked over a campfire.