The dark shadows of the Blackwood Forest finally thinned out.
Saile stepped out of the heavy tree line and took a deep, refreshing breath of clean air.
Down in the wide valley below sat the frontier city of Valerius.
Thick stone walls surrounded the massive town.
Even from a distance, Saile could hear the loud noises of the streets.
Hammers clanged loudly against hot metal. Merchants yelled to sell their goods.
It was a loud, crowded place filled with rough mercenaries and dirty hunters.
"It smells like unwashed humans and cheap ale," Naicul drawled inside Saile’s mind.
The ancient God sounded deeply disgusted.
"Why are we stopping here again? We should be hunting monsters in the woods."
"Because I cannot walk around forever wearing a torn, bloody tunic," Saile replied simply.
He looked down at his dirty clothes.
"I also need a mercenary license to travel freely. If the Church is looking for the Heretic who killed their men, a licensed hunter blends right into the crowd. Plus, we need pure gold to upgrade my weapons."
"Fine," Naicul grumbled, sounding incredibly bored.
"But if anyone looks at me the wrong way, I am biting their nose off."
"You do not even have teeth right now," Saile sighed.
He walked down the dirt path and joined the long line of people entering the city gates.
Nobody paid attention to the skinny seventeen-year-old boy.
He looked exactly like a poor, homeless beggar.
His clothes were ripped, and his rusted iron harpoon was tied loosely to his back with an old rope.
He slipped quietly through the busy city streets until he found his target.
The Hunter’s Guild was a massive building made of dark stone and heavy iron bars.
Saile pushed the heavy wooden doors open.
The inside of the guild hall was deafeningly loud.
Groups of scarred mercenaries drank heavily from wooden mugs.
People argued aggressively over hunting maps and wanted posters pinned to the walls.
But the biggest crowd was gathered in the exact center of the room.
A glowing white crystal sat proudly on a stone pedestal.
It was an Awakening Crystal, just like the one back in his home village of Orali.
The guild used it to register new hunters and measure their magical power.
A group of rich, arrogant young nobles stood around the crystal.
They wore highly polished silver and gold armor that looked like it had never seen a real battle.
One of the nobles, a tall boy with slicked-back blonde hair, placed his hand confidently on the cold stone.
The crystal instantly flared with a blinding, bright red light.
Heat rolled off the stone in thick waves.
The guild clerk, an older man with a tired face, nodded his head.
"A-Rank. Fire Talent. Excellent work, young master."
The crowd of hunters clapped loudly.
The blonde noble smirked, crossing his arms with a smug, superior look on his face.
"An A-Rank?" Naicul laughed coldly inside Saile’s head.
"He looks like a dressed-up pig. A thousand years ago, I used to feed A-Ranks to my pets as a light snack. Let me out, Saile. I will melt his shiny armor right to his skin."
"Stay quiet," Saile warned strictly.
"We have to hide. If they see my dark EX-Rank mana, the Church will send an army here by tomorrow morning. I need you to help me mask my aura completely."
Naicul let out a heavy, dramatic sigh.
"You are incredibly boring. Fine. Pull your mana back deep into your chest. Breathe out slowly. Push the dark energy down into your bones. I will handle the crystal."
Saile walked slowly toward the center of the room.
The crowd parted, but not out of respect.
People stepped away from him because he looked dirty and poor.
The group of rich nobles turned around, looking at Saile with absolute disgust.
"Look at this pathetic peasant," the blonde noble sneered, looking Saile up and down.
"Did you get lost on your way to the farms, trash?"
His friends burst into loud, mocking laughter.
They pointed at Saile’s ripped clothes and his rusted harpoon.
Saile ignored them completely.
He kept his face totally blank.
He walked right up to the stone pedestal and placed his bare hand flat against the cold glass of the crystal.
He held his breath.
He pushed his dark mana down hard, hiding the violent EX-Rank energy deep inside his chest.
The heavy crystal did not glow.
It did not shine.
For a brief second, a dull, muddy brown light flickered weakly inside the stone, and then it faded to nothing.
The tired guild clerk looked down at his clipboard and sighed heavily.
"F-Rank. Talent: Null. You have absolutely no magic in your blood, boy."
The arrogant nobles roared with laughter.
Some of them actually held their stomachs.
"An F-Rank?" the blonde noble mocked loudly.
"You are a total weakling! You do not belong in the Hunter’s Guild, peasant. You will die in five minutes out in the real world."
Saile pulled his hand away from the stone.
He did not care about their insults.
The disguise worked perfectly.
He was completely hidden in plain sight.
The older guild clerk looked at Saile with genuine pity.
"Listen, kid. The wild is a dangerous place. You still need to pass the physical combat test to get a basic Iron Rank license. If you cannot pass, I cannot let you register. It is for your own safety."
The clerk pointed toward the back of the room.
A massive, heavy combat dummy stood in the corner.
It was made of thick ironwood and bolted down with steel plates.
It was heavily padded with tough leather, specifically designed to take brutal hits from low-level magic and heavy swords.
"Step up to the dummy," the clerk instructed softly.
"Just hit it as hard as you can. I need to see if you even know how to throw a punch."
Saile walked slowly toward the heavy ironwood dummy.
The entire crowd of mercenaries and mocking nobles followed him, eager to watch the weak peasant humiliate himself.
Saile stopped three feet away from the thick leather padding.
He rolled his shoulders loosely.
He stretched his arms, feeling his muscles pull tight.
He was Level 10 now.
His raw physical stats were packed with incredible, explosive power from devouring the Leviathan and the forest monsters.
He did not need a single drop of magic for this.
"Show these arrogant insects what real strength looks like," Naicul whispered in his ear, his voice dripping with cruel excitement.
"Just break it."
Saile lowered his stance.
He planted his boots firmly against the stone floor.
Boom!
The air cracked with a loud sonic boom.
The heavy stone floor actually shattered under Saile’s boots as he pushed off.
He exploded forward with terrifying speed, moving so fast that the wind cried loudly in the quiet room.
He closed the distance instantly.
Dropping low to the ground, Saile launched into a lightning-fast spin sweep.
His leg whipped through the air like a solid iron club.
His boot slammed brutally into the dummy’s thick ironwood base.
The heavy wood groaned loudly under the terrible pressure.
Using the rapid momentum from his sweep, Saile planted his hands flat on the cracked floor.
He pushed his body upward, launching into a flawless, high backflip.
As he flipped completely upside down, his right heel lashed out in a sharp, upward kick.
Smack!
His heel caught the heavy dummy right under its padded leather chin.
The violent physical force knocked the massive ironwood structure completely off balance.
The steel plates holding it to the floor squealed loudly.
The crowd of hunters stopped laughing.
They went perfectly, completely dead silent.
Saile landed smoothly on both feet.
He did not pause to admire his work.
He twisted his hips sharply, planting his back foot into the dirt.
He pulled his right arm back and threw his entire body weight into a brutal, devastating uppercut.
His bare fist connected cleanly with the absolute center of the dummy’s heavy chest.
CRACK!
The sound was like a cannon firing inside the guild hall.
A visible shockwave ripped through the air, blowing the hair back from the faces of the closest nobles.
The reinforced ironwood shattered completely.
Thick splinters of wood flew wildly through the air like sharp knives.
The sheer, overwhelming physical force of Saile’s Level 10 punch ripped the top half of the heavy dummy right off its steel base.
The broken top half flew backward through the air.
It soared across the large room and smashed violently against the far stone wall.
The heavy wood broke into a dozen useless pieces, raining down onto the floor with a loud clatter.
Saile slowly lowered his fist.
He took a calm, quiet breath and stood up straight.
He did not use a single spark of EX-Rank mana.
It was pure, unadulterated physical strength.
He turned around to face the room.
The entire guild hall was frozen like a block of ice.
The veteran mercenaries stared at the shattered wood with wide, terrified eyes.
The group of rich nobles looked like they were going to be sick.
The blonde noble’s jaw hung wide open, his smug smile completely wiped from his pale face.
An unawakened F-Rank peasant had just destroyed a reinforced magic dummy with his bare hands.
The tired guild clerk slowly lowered his clipboard.
His hands were shaking slightly.
He stared at Saile, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
"I..." the clerk stuttered weakly, clearing his dry throat.
"I have never seen raw physical power like that from an unawakened human. That is not Iron Rank power, kid."
Saile walked back over to the desk.
He did not say a word.
He just waited.
The clerk quickly reached under his desk.
He pulled out a shiny, solid silver metal tag and slid it across the wooden counter.
"I am putting you straight into Silver Rank," the clerk announced loudly, his voice shaking slightly.
The crowd gasped.
Silver Rank was reserved for elite guild hunters and highly trained warriors.
No one got Silver Rank on their very first day, especially not someone who looked like a homeless beggar.
Saile grabbed the silver tag.
The cool metal felt good in his hand.
This was exactly what he needed.
He tied the tag tightly to his belt.
He turned around and walked slowly toward the exit.
As he approached the group of nobles, the blonde boy quickly stepped backward, pressing himself fearfully against the wall to get out of Saile’s way.
His shiny A-Rank armor suddenly did not look so impressive anymore.
As Saile walked past them, a small, satisfied smile crept onto his face.
"Not bad for a skinny fisherman," Naicul chuckled darkly in his mind.
"But do not celebrate yet. We still need to find a real fight."