The creature hit Boran’s shield hard enough to crack one of its own teeth.
Boran looked down at the tooth as it bounced across the stone.
“That's the fourth one,” he said.
Noemi stood twelve meters away near the broken wall of the quarry. Red light gathered around the head of her staff, small at first, then slowly growing brighter. “Are you counting their teeth?”
“I have nothing else to do.”
Another Slateback rushed him from the left.
It was a low, ugly creature with six short legs and a flat body covered in gray plates. The plates made it look like a large stone moving across the ground. Its mouth opened sideways, full of small black teeth meant for breaking mineral deposits and, apparently, Boran’s boots.
Boran turned the Bone Shield slightly.
The creature’s head struck the shield’s gray-white surface and stopped. Boran pushed it away with one lazy movement. The Slateback rolled onto its side, legs moving in the air, then another one climbed over it to reach him.
[Taunt active: 4 seconds remaining]
[HP: 124/125]
Boran put his right hand into his pocket.
Still, the Slatebacks were only Level 3. There were fourteen of them left, all packed around him in a rough circle, scratching and biting at his shield, boots, leg guards, and anything else they could reach. Most of their attacks did nothing. The few that found a gap dealt one damage.
The real danger was standing beside the broken wall and putting more mana into one spell than the spell was supposed to hold.
Boran glanced at Noemi. “How much longer?”
“Stop distracting me.”
The red sphere over Noemi’s staff had grown larger than her head. Fire moved inside it in tight circles, turning from orange to yellow near the center. Heat rolled across the quarry. Even from where he stood, Boran felt it against his face.
Boney Stark stood halfway between them, bow lowered for now. He watched the growing spell and the creatures surrounding Boran without interfering.
A Slateback bit Boran’s boot.
Boran shook his leg once. The creature stayed attached.
“Let go.”
It did not.
He struck it lightly with the lower edge of the shield. The Slateback released his boot and slid backward into two others.
Noemi’s fireball grew another few centimeters.
“You look very comfortable,” she said.
“I am.”
“You have fourteen monsters around you.”
“These are no threat to me. I’ve got so much armor these guys can’t even find a place to bite me. How long is it going to take you to charge that spell?”
Noemi opened one eye and looked at him. “I told you this spell needs time.”
“You said a little time.”
“It has only been a little.”
“One of them has been chewing my boot long enough to get attached.”
Noemi laughed, and the fireball shook.
“Don’t laugh,” Boran said. “That does not look stable.”
“It is stable.”
“Just be careful.”
“Maybe because you made me laugh? Don’t talk, then.”
Boran glanced at her over the heads of the Slatebacks. “You’ve been blaming me for a lot of things lately.”
“I’ve been spending more time with you lately. It gives me more things to blame you for.”
He tried not to smile. He did not do a very good job.
Noemi noticed. The smile she gave him back was smaller, but warmer.
“Keep standing there and looking impressive,” she said. “I’m almost ready.”
“I wasn’t trying to look impressive.”
“Mm-hm.”
For half a second, the Slatebacks stopped trying to climb over Boran. Their small dark eyes moved around the quarry. Two noticed Boney. Three turned toward Noemi and the bright sphere above her staff.
“Come back to me.”
[Taunt activated]
[Mana: 30/40]
The pressure rolled out from him.
Every Slateback turned at once.
Their legs scraped against the quarry floor as they rushed back. Boran planted the Bone Shield in front of himself and let them gather. One hit the shield. Then another. Two came from the right, but he turned with them and knocked both away with the broad face of the shield.
“Closer,” Noemi said.
Boran stepped backward. The creatures followed, pressing into one another as they tried to reach him first. One climbed onto another’s back. A third crawled under both and snapped at Boran’s ankle.
He moved the shield from side to side, not striking hard enough to kill them, only keeping them in front of him. Gray shells scraped against gray stone. Teeth clicked. Small claws caught on the shield’s rough surface and slipped away.
Boney remained near the open side of the group, watching for anything that escaped Boran’s control.
Noemi’s spell made a deep sound.
Boran looked back.
The fireball was now almost a meter wide.
“That is enough,” he said.
“Almost.”
“You said almost a while ago.”
“I put ten extra mana into it.”
Boran stared at the sphere. “You can do that?”
“I told you I’ve been practicing mana control.”
“Oh, right.”
Noemi looked as if she wanted to argue, but the spell demanded too much concentration. Sweat had formed along her forehead. Both hands held the staff now, and the rings near its top trembled from the mana moving through it.
Boran’s smile faded when he noticed the strain in her arms.
“Are you alright?” he asked. Boran watched her for another second. “Don’t force it if it’s too much.”
Noemi met his eyes through the heat. “Worry about yourself big guy. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Five more seconds.”
A Slateback climbed high enough to snap at Boran’s elbow. He pushed it down with the shield.
“Four,” Noemi said.
The creatures pressed closer.
“Three.”
Boran lowered his body slightly.
“Two.”
The fireball compressed.
That frightened him more than when it had grown. The red sphere shrank to half its size, but the center became white. The stone beneath Noemi’s boots darkened from the heat.
Boney took three quick steps away from her.
Noemi swung the staff forward.
“Now!”
Boran turned and ran.
The Slatebacks followed him for the first step. Taunt still held them. On the second step, Boran pulled the Bone Shield close to his body so its width would not slow him. On the third, he jumped behind a broken block of quarry stone.
The fireball passed over the place where his head had been.
For one second, the whole quarry turned white.
Then the spell hit.
The explosion swallowed the Slatebacks. Fire spread across the ground in a perfect circle, wider than Boran expected and much faster. The broken block protected his upper body, but the edge of the blast rolled around both sides and caught his legs.
Heat punched through his armor.
[HP: 110/125]
Boran dropped to one knee.
Behind him came a series of sharp cracking sounds as heated shells split apart.
Then the notifications began.
[Slateback defeated]
[Slateback defeated]
[Slateback defeated]
More lines appeared until they covered half his vision.
The fire faded quickly, leaving black marks across the quarry floor and fourteen smoking shapes where the creatures had been.
Boran looked down at his boots. The leather was still there. The lower part of his leg guards smoked a little.
Noemi hurried toward him. “Are you alright?”
Boran stood slowly. “I thought I was outside of its range.”
Noemi stopped beside him and looked down at the burned marks.
“Did it hurt.”
“For about five seconds, it felt like my leg was in an oven. My Magic Defense is zero,” Boran said. “Remember?”
Boney approached through the smoke and stopped a few steps away. He watched them in silence while Noemi examined the scorched parts of Boran’s leg guards.
Noemi stood, still close enough that Boran could feel the heat left on her clothes from the spell. She brushed a streak of ash from his chest piece with her thumb.
“You scared me for a second,” she said quietly.
A final notification pushed the others aside.
[Mission progress: 30/30 Slatebacks eliminated]
[Elimination objective complete]
[Experience gained: 320]
[LEVEL UP]
[Level 5 reached]
Boran went quiet.
Noemi noticed immediately. “What happened?”
“Level five.”
Her face brightened. “Really?”
Boran opened the status window.
[Level: 5]
[Experience: 70/20,000]
[Level rewards available]
[+5 Stat Points]
[+1 Skill Point]
A second window opened beside it.
[Boney Stark leveled up!]
[Level: 4 → 5]
[1 equipment upgrade available.]
Boran glanced toward Boney. The skeleton was still standing nearby, quietly watching them.
“One for you too,” Boran said.
He moved Boney’s window between them.
[Select equipment to upgrade:]
[Bone Bow] [Quiver] [Arrows] [Eye Fire]
Boran stepped aside. “You choose.”
Boney looked over the options, then reached up and tapped Bone Bow.
“Again?” Boran asked.
Boney nodded.
[Upgrade selected: Bone Bow]
[Bone Bow II → Bone Bow III]
A faint blue light passed over the bow on Boney’s back. The pale bone grew slightly smoother. A few shallow scratches disappeared, the uneven edges around the grip cleaned themselves up, and the limbs settled into a neater curve.
That was all.
It was still the same simple bone bow, only a little cleaner and better made than it had been a moment ago.
Boney took it into his hands, examined both sides, then gave a satisfied nod.
Noemi watched him. “He picked that himself?”
“Yes,” Boran said. “He knows what he wants.”
Boney placed the bow back over his shoulder.
Only then did Boran return to his own rewards.
Five stat points waited. Constitution had kept him alive from the beginning, and the edge of Noemi’s spell had just reminded him that surviving one kind of damage did not make him safe from everything. He still could not raise Magical Defense directly, but more health would at least give him more room when magic reached him.
He placed three points into Constitution, one into Intelligence, and one into Agility.
[Stat points allocated]
[Constitution: 25 → 28]
[Intelligence: 4 → 5]
[Agility: 5 → 6]
[Maximum HP: 125 → 140]
[Maximum Mana: 40 → 50]
[Stamina: 50 → 56]
The new strength settled into his body quietly. His breathing became easier. The burns on his legs still hurt, but the pain felt smaller beneath the larger health bar.
Then he opened the skill list.
Fortify was the obvious choice.
It had kept him alive when his armor had been little more than metal stripped from dead skeletons. Its second rank had doubled the defense bonus and kept it active five seconds longer. It also strengthened Shield Slam, since the strike scaled with his current defense. One point improved both the part of his class that kept him standing and one of the few attacks he could rely on.
He selected Fortify.
[Skill Point spent]
[Fortify II → Fortify III]
[Mana Cost: 5]
[Cooldown: 30 seconds]
[Duration: 20 seconds → 25 seconds]
[Effect: Physical Defense +10 → +15]
Boran checked the number once.
[Physical Defense with Fortify III: 51]
That was an easy decision.
Boran closed the skill window and opened his inventory.
He selected the Adaptive Shield, intending to bring up the Shield Form Registry and look through its forms. The inventory list shifted as the shield’s options began to open.
Before he reached the registry, his eyes caught on the item directly beneath it.
A small gray stone sat among his remaining materials, a thin vein of gold still running through its center.
Boran stopped.
“I forgot about this.”
Noemi stepped closer. “What?”
Boran selected the item.
[Guardian Core Shard]
[Rarity: Rare]
[Type: Shield Material]
[Use: Upgrades the Stone Form of a bound Adaptive Shield.]
Noemi recognized the name. “That came from Mur-Azar, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” Boran remembered holding it on the Hub steps, before he had even unlocked the Stone Shield. “It wouldn’t work before because I didn’t have the form.”
He selected the shard and tried to apply it to Stone Shield Form II.
The System rejected the attempt immediately.
[Guardian Core Shard integration unavailable]
[Current Form: Stone Shield Form II]
[Requirement not met: Stone Shield Form V]
Boran stared at the last line.
“Form five?”
Noemi leaned in until her shoulder brushed his, even though she couldn’t see the window. “What does it say?”
“My Stone Shield has to hit Form Five.”
“What’s it at now?”
“Two.”
Boran closed the inventory. The Guardian Core Shard sat where it had been, waiting. At least now he knew what it was waiting for.
Noemi glanced from Boran to the Bone Shield strapped to his arm. “So how do you usually level it up?”
“I feed it stuff.”
She just stared.
Boran sighed. “Compatible materials.”
“Wow,” Noemi said flatly. “That clears everything up.”
She looked around the quarry. Broken gray stone littered the ground where the Slatebacks had died—some pieces small enough to hold, others the size of Boran’s chest.
She pointed at one of the bigger chunks. “What about that?”
Boran followed her finger. “That’s not a chunk. That’s half a wall.”
“You said the shield eats materials.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then feed it.”
Boran walked over and crouched by the stone. The block had cracked at one edge from the blast, but it was still heavy enough that he had to set the shield down, wedge both hands under it, and lift with his legs.
Noemi watched him straighten. “You could’ve picked a smaller one.”
“You pointed at this one.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
“That sounds like a you problem. You know I like a challenge.”
Boran carried the block back and lowered it onto a flatter section of ground. Dust came off its underside. Boney stood nearby with his bow over one shoulder, watching them without comment.
Boran pressed the face of the Bone Shield against the stone.
“Absorb.”
A pale line moved over the block. For a moment, Boran thought the stone might dissolve into the shield.
Then the light stopped.
[Material analyzed: Quarry Stone]
[Material category: Common Stone]
[Stone Shield Form advancement unavailable]
[Common Quarry Stone cannot advance Stone Shield Form II.]
[Higher-grade compatible stone required.]
The light faded completely.
Boran stared at the block still sitting in front of him.
“What happened?” Noemi asked, frowning.
“It wants better stone.”
“Is your shield getting picky now?”
Boran lifted the Bone Shield back onto his arm. “It learned from its owner.”
Noemi looked at him. “Was that meant to be about me?”
“No... I mean—”
Boran’s message panel chimed before he could answer.
He opened it.
[William Bennet: I spoke with the founders of Crimson Lion.]
A second message followed.
[William Bennet: They would like to meet you regarding your guild idea.]
Then a third.
[William Bennet: This would only be a conversation. They are not asking you to make a decision beforehand.]
Boran read the three messages again.
Noemi noticed the change in his face. “What happened?”
“William sent me a message.”
“Who is William?”
Boran realized he had never mentioned William to her.
“He’s a friend,” he said. “A guy from Crimson Lion. We met near the Mission Board. He helped me once during the Twilight Pit mission.”
“And why is your friend talking to the founders of Crimson Lion about you?”
“Because I told him I wanted to create a guild.”
Noemi blinked. “You want to create a guild?”
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
Boran left the reply window open but did not write anything. He walked to a low piece of broken wall and sat on it. Noemi came with him and leaned her staff against the stone before sitting close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.
Boney remained in front of them.
Boran told her about the beginners he had seen near the Guild, ready to pay fifty gold for information they should have been able to get for free. They had no experienced friends, no team, and nobody they could trust enough to ask for help.
“I thought there should be a place for people like that,” he said. “New adventurers. People who can’t find parties. People rejected because of their class or level.”
Noemi listened without interrupting.
“They could get reliable mission information, train, and meet others in the same position. Nobody would have to wonder whether their party would abandon them or remove them without even saying anything.”
Noemi glanced at him, but Boran kept his attention on his hands.
Then she smiled.
“I like it,” she said.
“You do?”
“A guild that stops new adventurers from being abandoned or cheated because they don’t know anything?” Noemi turned slightly toward him. “Yes, Boran. I like it.”
Boran looked back at William’s message. “Creating one is the problem.”
“How?”
“You need a Guild Formation Certificate and a Guildmaster’s Quill. Their official value together is ten thousand gold, but almost none are left on the market. William said the pair could cost close to two million now.”
Noemi’s smile disappeared. “Two million?”
“Yes.”
“You have...”
“Not two million.”
Noemi glanced at the blue message panel still waiting beside him. “Then why do the founders of Crimson Lion want to meet?”
“Because William told them the idea. Crimson Lion wants a smaller guild under its protection. They could provide the certificate and quill. The guild would keep its own name, leadership, rules, treasury, and members, but Crimson Lion would have rights written into the charter. They could request materials and certain work from us. In return, they would provide protection, information, instructors, and help with problems beyond our level.”
Noemi was quiet as she absorbed it.
“So your guild would begin beneath another guild.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds strange.”
“That is what bothers me.”
“It should bother you.”
Boran looked at her.
Noemi continued before he could misunderstand. “Not enough to refuse the meeting. Enough to read every word before you agree to anything.”
“I wasn’t going to agree immediately.”
“I know.” She rested one hand on the stone between them. “You’re stubborn, but you’re not careless.”
Boran smiled despite himself.
Noemi looked toward the black marks her spell had left across the quarry.
“I think your first rule should be that nobody gets removed from a party without being told.”
Boran’s smile became smaller.
“Yes,” he said. “That would be a good rule.”
“And basic mission information should be free to members.”
“Another good rule,” Boran laughed quietly.
Noemi’s fingers moved closer until they touched the side of his hand.
“You could manage something like that,” she said.
Boran looked at William’s unanswered message again.
He typed his answer.
[Boran: Tell them I’ll meet with them.]
William replied less than a minute later.
[William Bennet: Understood. I’ll arrange it and send you the details.]
Boran closed the message window.
Noemi did not let go of his hand.
“I agreed to talk with them.”
Noemi smiled and rested her head lightly against his shoulder for only a moment.
“Then listen to what they have to say,” she said softly. “Whatever you decide after that, you won’t have to figure it out alone.”
Boran reached the meeting point twelve minutes early.
He had considered arriving exactly on time. Then he had considered arriving five minutes early so he would not look careless. Somehow that had become twelve.
The Hub moved around him as if this were an ordinary morning. Parties gathered in front of the Mission Board. Merchants shouted prices from the nearby stalls. Fresh arrivals stood beneath the direction signs with the same lost expression Boran had worn during his first days.
Boran waited beside a circular stone fountain between the main hall and the transit wing. He had repaired what he could of his equipment after the quarry mission. The burn marks on his leg guards were still visible, but the leather was no longer smoking. His helmet rested in his inventory. Wearing it to a meeting had felt strange.
The founders of Crimson Lion wanted to meet him.
He had repeated the sentence several times since William arranged it. It had not become more normal.
At Level Five, Boran was about to walk into a room with the people who led one of the oldest and most powerful guilds in the New World. They held the two items that could turn his idea into something real. In return, they wanted a place in its future.
Boran looked up.
William approached from the direction of the transit wing. His dark brown hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders, and his black cloak moved lightly behind him. The crimson lion emblem pinned near his left shoulder caught the blue light of the Hub. Its tiny red eyes seemed to glow when he walked.
He was not carrying his long staff today.
“You came early,” William said.
“Yes. Are the founders already waiting?” he asked.
“Not really. But they know we are coming.”
Boran nodded.
“Before we leave, I need to ask once. Are you ready?”
Boran looked toward the transit wing, though they would not be using one of its public portals.
“Yes,” Boran said. “Let’s go.”
William nodded once. “All right.”
He raised one hand and opened a blue interface.
A notification appeared in front of Boran.
[Party Invitation Received]
[William Bennet - Level 89 Pact of the Pale Mist Warlock invites you to join their party.]
[Accept?]
Boran looked at William. “Why do we need a party?”
“Crimson Lion’s headquarters is not inside the Hub. You cannot travel there alone.”
“And joining your party gives me access?”
“Temporary access,” William said. “Only for the duration of the visit, and only while a Crimson Lion member leads the transfer. If you leave the party, the System will return you here.”
Boran selected accept.
[Party Joined]
[Party Members:]
William Bennet - Level 89 Pact of the Pale Mist Warlock - Party Leader
Boran Apaydın - Level 5 Tank
William’s gaze paused on the second line. “You reached Level Five.”
“Yesterday.”
“Congratulations.”
Then he touched two fingers to the crimson lion emblem on his cloak.
The red stones in its eyes brightened.
A thin crimson circle appeared beneath William’s boots, then expanded across the floor until it surrounded both of them. Lines formed inside it, sharp and precise, joining into the outline of a lion’s head. The people passing nearby changed direction without surprise. Apparently, high-level adventurers opening private teleportation circles in the middle of the Hub was ordinary enough to walk around.
A new panel opened.
[Party Leader has initiated guild travel.]
[Destination: Crimson Lion Headquarters]
[Remain within the transfer circle until teleportation is complete.]
[Accept travel?]
He selected accept.
[Travel accepted]
[Teleportation commencing...]
Crimson light rose from the circle in a solid wall. The fountain, the Mission Board, and the crowds of the Hub disappeared behind it.
For one second, Boran felt the ground fall away.
Then the Hub vanished.
The first thing Boran felt was heat.
Like sunlight resting on stone, dry wind moving over his face, and warm air carrying the brighter smells of baked bread, citrus peel and spiced tea.
The crimson light broke apart.
Boran’s boots struck solid ground.
The teleportation circle stood in the center of an enormous plaza paved with black stone. Lines of red metal ran through the ground in the shape of a lion’s mane, branching away from the circle toward six broad roads. Each road was wide enough for twenty people to walk side by side. Hundreds already did.
Adventurers crossed the plaza in every direction. Some moved alone, others in organized parties wearing matching cloaks or armor markings. Porters pushed long carts stacked with sealed crates. Mages carried bundles of scroll cases beneath their arms. A line of injured fighters waited outside a white-stone building where green light pulsed behind tall windows.
Beyond the plaza rose a city built like a fortress.
Three enormous rings of dark walls climbed the slope ahead, one behind another. The lowest surrounded workshops, warehouses, markets, and long barracks with red-tiled roofs. The second held training grounds large enough to contain entire battlefields. Boran saw flashes of spellfire rise above one wall, followed by the distant impact of something heavy enough to shake dust from a tower.
The highest ring stood far above both.
A keep of black and pale-gold stone dominated the summit. Its central tower rose so high that Boran had to tilt his head back to see the top. Six narrower towers surrounded it, connected by bridges suspended over open air. Crimson banners fell from every level, each bearing the same lion’s head as William’s emblem. The largest banner was longer than some buildings in the Hub. Wind pulled it outward, turning the lion’s mane into a field of moving red.
Behind the fortress, mountains crowded the horizon. Their lower slopes were covered in deep green forest, while snow shone on the highest peaks. Water fell from a cliff to the east in a white line and disappeared behind the outer wall. To the west, stone platforms projected from the mountainside. Winged shapes rested on several of them, too distant for Boran to identify.
He slowly turned in place.
The teleportation plaza alone was larger than the entire district around the Endless Tavern.
“This is your headquarters?” he asked.
William stepped out of the circle beside him. “Part of it.”
Boran looked at him. “Part?”
“The central fortress, the training districts, the residential quarter, the crafting ward, the archive complex, and the territory beyond the northern wall all belong to Crimson Lion.”
“How far does the territory go?”
“You cannot see the northern border from here.”
Boran looked back at the keep.
The two items Crimson Lion could offer him suddenly felt less like rare objects and more like crumbs from an impossibly large table.
A group leaving the plaza passed close to them. The first two looked human. The third did not.
They were a tall woman in layered green armor, with pointed ears rising through silver hair. The ears were too long and sharply tapered to be mistaken for anything human. Faint golden lines moved beneath the skin around their eyes when they turned their head.
The person behind them had a pair of gray wolf ears on top of their head.
Boran stared before he could stop himself.
The wolf-eared adventurer was broad-shouldered and wore a sleeveless coat over heavy scale armor. Gray fur covered the backs of their forearms and climbed to their elbows. A thick tail moved behind them, shifting naturally for balance as they walked. Their face was mostly human, but the nose was slightly flatter, the teeth visible beneath their smile a little too sharp.
“William!” the adventurer called.
William raised one hand. “Daren.”
Daren struck a fist against their chest in greeting, then looked at Boran. Their eyes moved briefly to the Bone Shield before returning to his face.
“New recruit?”
“Visitor,” William said.
Daren gave Boran a friendly nod. “Good luck, Visitor.”
“With what?” Boran asked.
Daren’s grin widened. “Whatever made William bring you here.”
The group continued across the plaza.
Boran watched the tail disappear into the crowd.
Then he noticed the others.
Once his eyes knew what to look for, they were everywhere.
A young man with black cat ears sat on the edge of a fountain, cleaning two curved daggers. His tail curled around one boot whenever someone passed too close. A massive person wearing a smith’s apron carried a crate on one shoulder. Short brown fur covered their neck and arms, and two rounded bear ears pushed through close-cropped hair.
Most of the nonhuman adventurers looked like that—human shapes carrying unmistakable pieces of animals. Ears. Tails. Fur along the arms or jaw. Clawed fingers. Eyes that reflected light strangely. Some had digitigrade legs beneath specially shaped armor. Others showed only one or two features until they smiled.
But they were not all half-animal.
Boran saw more people with pointed ears moving through the crowd. Elves. Others had skin in warm brown or deep blue-gray shades.
A short adventurer with curved horns and copper-colored skin hurried between two carts. Farther away, someone with green scales across their cheeks carried a spear nearly three meters long. A woman with white feathers replacing the hair along one side of her head stepped from another teleportation circle and folded a pair of small wings tightly against her back.
Boran had heard that high-level adventurers could stop looking human.
He had assumed the stories were exaggerated. A magical helmet mistaken for horns. A class transformation confused with a different species. Equipment designed to look like ears or claws.
None of this looked like equipment.
Boran leaned closer to William. “How is any of this possible?”
William followed his gaze. “The races?”
“Yes.”
William gestured for Boran to follow and began walking toward the road leading uphill. “Every person you see here entered the New World as human. At Level One Hundred, the System unlocks access to a region called the Second World.”
“Second World,” Boran repeated.
“It is not a single dungeon or mission zone. It is another major region of the New World, with its own cities, territories, species, progression systems, and dangers. Reaching Level One Hundred gives you access. Entering it for the first time gives you a choice.”
“What kind of choice?”
“Race.”
Boran looked at the wolf-eared people ahead of them. “You choose to become one?”
“Yes. There are many options, though not everyone receives the same list.”
“And it changes your body?”
“Outside the Hub, yes.” William moved aside to let a supply cart pass. “The selection is permanent. Once you confirm a race in the Second World, it becomes part of you. Appearance, physical traits, racial abilities, weaknesses—all of it.”
Boran touched one of his own ears without thinking.
William noticed. “You still have ninety-five levels to consider it.”
“What happens when they go back to the Hub?” Boran asked. “I’ve never seen anyone like this there.”
“The Hub suppresses racial forms. It was made as neutral territory for people at every stage of progression. Race traits, transformations, and racial abilities become inactive as soon as you enter. Everyone returns to their original human appearance until they leave again.”
“So, for example, Daren would look human in the Hub?”
“Completely. No ears. No tail. Their senses and racial bonuses are inactive too.”
“And when they come back here?”
“The form returns. Guild territories are outside the Hub’s suppression. So are mission regions, the Second World, private settlements, and almost everywhere else.”
Boran looked around again. “Does it hurt?”
“The first change, apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“I am Level Eighty-Nine,” William reminded him. “I have not made the choice yet.”
Boran glanced at William’s ordinary ears. “What will you choose?”
William’s expression became carefully neutral. “That is private.”
“So you already know.”
“I have considered several options.”
“Which ones?”
“Still private.”
Boran smiled faintly. “Maybe something with a tail.”
William ignored him with practiced ease.
They left the teleportation plaza and entered the first broad road. The fortress grew larger with every step.
On their right stood a line of forges built into the outer wall. Their chimneys released smoke in different colors—black, white, blue, and one stream that glittered like ground metal. Open workshop doors revealed armor hanging from chains and weapons resting inside fields of light.
On their left, tiered training fields descended toward the cliff. One held dozens of archers firing in synchronized lines at targets that moved on metal tracks. Another contained a duel between two people moving too quickly for Boran to follow. Their weapons met once, and the protective barrier around the field flashed from the impact.
Farther down, a lion-headed man nearly three meters tall stood at the center of a formation of swordsmen. A dark mane covered their neck and shoulders. Instead of teaching from behind, they drove a huge practice blade against the line while shouting corrections.
“Training captain,” William said. “Do not stare too long. They may invite you onto the field.”
Boran immediately resumed walking.
More people recognized him as they climbed.
More importantly, William noticed them back.
“How many people are in Crimson Lion?” Boran asked.
“Enough that I do not know everyone anymore.”
“You seem to know a lot.”
“I have been here for years.” William looked toward a group unloading monster cores from a wagon.
That answer sounded simple when he said it.
Boran knew it was not.
They passed beneath the first gate.
The open doors were each thirty meters high and plated in red-black metal. Scenes had been carved across them.
Beyond the gate, the second ring opened around them.
The noise changed. The market and forge sounds fell behind. Here, orders echoed across courtyards. Companies of adventurers moved between long armories and training halls. Giant mission maps hovered over a circular command pavilion. Red and gold markers shifted constantly across mountains, forests, cities, and places Boran did not recognize.
Above it all, the central keep waited at the top of another wide staircase.
Boran stopped at the foot of it.
From the plaza below, the keep had looked immense. Up close, it felt less like a building and more like a piece of the mountain. Black columns framed an entrance large enough for a giant. Pale-gold veins ran through the stone like light trapped beneath its surface. On both sides of the staircase stood lion statues with their heads raised and mouths open. Red fire burned behind their stone teeth without producing smoke.
Hundreds of people filled the grounds behind Boran. Humans, elves, beastkin, and forms he did not have names for. Above them rose walls built to survive armies. Beyond those walls stretched territory too large to see in full.
Crimson Lion was not merely a guild hall.
It was a power with roads, soldiers, workshops, history, and a place in the world large enough to cast a shadow.
William climbed the first step, then looked back.
“The founders are inside.”
Boran looked up at the doors waiting at the top.
For the first time since accepting the meeting, he understood how small his idea must look from where they stood.
Then he started climbing.