Back in the frozen woods of Requiem, a squad of black cloaked Enforcers from House Vorne rode through the snowfall.
They had been sent to investigate why three weeks had passed without a single official report from the secluded estate regarding Iver’s tenth birthday core evaluation and awakening. When the lead Enforcer pulled his horse to a halt, there was no manor left to inspect. Only a sprawling mound of scorched timber, black ash, and collapsed stone foundations greeted them.
"Spread out," the commander ordered, slipping off his mount. "Search the perimeter."
"Commander, over here," an Enforcer called out from the center of the ruins, using a spear shaft to clear away a pile of charred support beams. "Found the bodies. Two of them."
The commander knelt, poking through the brittle, blackened bones. "One adult female, short stature fits the maid. One young male, frail bone density fits the disgraced young lord, and the calcified slag melted into the surrounding floorboards."
"Hellfire residue," the junior Enforcer noted, picking up a clump of glassy, burned soil. "A wild Fire Salamander. Looks like one wandered down here, tore through the front structure, and incinerated the whole estate before moving on."
The commander scoffed, dusting the ash off his leather gloves.
’What a bad life the kid had, losing his mother, born with a lesser spirit, getting disowned, and dying from a beast when he was about to awaken, may you get a better life when you get rebirthed’.
"Pack a sample of the charred bone for proof to show the lord and you two follow me, we are going to track it down and kill it"
...
In Castle Regulus, the report was delivered in absolute silence.
Lord Espen (iver’s dad) stood before the massive window, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out over the boundless, frozen peaks of Requiem.
"The investigation is complete, my Lord," the commander bowed, holding out a sealed leather pouch.
"The maid failed to send word because, a Fire Salamander destroyed the manor three weeks ago. Both targets were reduced to ash, " we tracked it down and eliminated it."
Lord Espen did not turn around. He did not accept the pouch. He simply continued to stare into the vast, empty white horizon, his eyes completely hollow. No anger, no grief, no relief, just a suffocating, empty void.
"Leave," Lord Espen said quietly. His voice carried no warmth, no weight, and no mark of a father. The commander bowed deeply and retreated, leaving the Lord of House Vorne alone with the frozen quiet of his hall.
...
’It has been a week since I left the cabin’.
Iver crouched in the thick canopy of a towering tree, his eyes fixed on the forest floor below. Over the last seven days, he had trekked continuously south through the borderlands separating Requiem from Nilheim.
"It seems no one is following me, meaning my plan worked, am now dead to the world, i can’t say i haven’t benefitted from leaving, i hunted some monsters along the way and got used to my powers", Haaa..haaaah..haha, he gave out a dry laugh, "look at me talking to myself, guess am finally going crazy, it’s been a crazy week, i need to reach town before nightfall, my back is hurting, my resources are almost ending, i need to hurry".
As the dense forest finally gave way to a vast plateau, Iver paused. He had expected Nilheim’s border town of Ravencrest to be a lawless dump, a squalid camp of mud, tents, and rotting wooden huts overrun by murderers.
What lay before him was a sprawling, fortified stone metropolis. High granite walls wrapped around towering spires, bustling upper districts, and vibrant tiled roofs. From this distance, it looked less like an outcast haven and more like a proud, miniature kingdom.
’I almost confused it with Solace’, Iver thought dryly. ’At least... what I imagine Solace looks like. I’ve never actually seen the Empire’s capital’.
Activating his stealth, which he had come to learn was actually broken, its a skill that erased his presence entirely, he became unnoticeable, and it seems it had something to do with his spirit animal or rather spirit core, it could amplify the stolen skills.
This skill had grown noticeably smoother and more fluid over weeks of constant use, he slipped past the heavy iron gates unnoticed. Once inside the main thoroughfare, he deactivated the skill and blended into the crowd.
’The city is packed with more people than i thought, the streets are full of businesses, vendors and many more, i had expected to find broken lifeless exiles waiting to die, instead, the city is filled with relentless, chaotic life.’
When he had first transmigrated into this world, his mind had defaulted to classical fantasy tropes, expecting to run into long eared elves, beastkin, or horned demons. But this world was far simpler and far more brutal, there were only humans and monsters. Yet, under the shadow of magic and spirit cores, it was unmistakably a fantasy world.
Iver pulled out a worn leather map from his coat, the map he had taken off the corrupt hunter back at the border. Deep inside his inner pouch lay a solid pouch of gold and silver coins he had scavenged directly from the cabin’s hidden vault before luring the Salamander. He wasn’t destitute, he had more than enough coin to live comfortably for months.
He had already calculated his long term plan before arriving, register at the local Guild, secure official identification under an alias, hunt monsters to earn coin without raising suspicions, and travel freely while steadily devouring cores to grow stronger.
Following the map’s marked routes, he turned down a grand avenue until he reached a massive medieval building.
’The architecture is imposing, it looks eerily similar to the Gothic cathedrals of my previous life on Earth’, he thought as he saw the massieve building infront of him.
Before stepping inside, Iver adjusted his clothes. He had long discarded the fine silk robes of House Vorne, replacing them with a plain, durable traveler’s tunic and dark trousers to avoid screaming ’noble.’ However, the clothes couldn’t hide his sharp, aristocratic features, jet black hair, and striking pale gaze. The moment he pushed open the heavy oak doors, the noise inside dipped.
The hall was packed with humanity’s rough edges, scarred mercenaries, heavy armored hunters, sharp eyed thieves, and desperate crooks. Dozens of eyes turned to lock onto the newcomer. Iver didn’t give a single one of them a glance. He walked straight through the center aisle, his footfalls steady and unbothered, making his way toward the main counter.
Behind the desk sat a young, fair skinned female receptionist. As Iver approached, her eyes widened slightly, taking in his handsome face, and a soft blush touched her cheeks.
"Wel...Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild," she cleared her throat, straightening her papers. "How can I help you today?"
"I want to register as an adventurer," Iver said, his voice smooth and neutral.
"Of course," she replied, quickly pulling out a copper recording slate and a small silver needle. "What name should we log for your official record?"
"Ares," Iver answered without hesitation.
"Very well, Ares," she said, tapping the slate. "Registration requires a basic identity log, a drop of blood to bind your Guild token, and an initial processing fee of two silver coins."
Iver casually reached into his pouch, pulled out two silver coins from his cabin stash, and placed them on the counter along with a drop of blood on the slate. The receptionist processed the data before handing him a raw copper tag etched with the name Ares.
"Your registration is complete, Ares," she said with a professional smile. "As an E Rank recruit, you have access to the public request board. However, per Guild regulations, all new registrants must complete three civil maintenance requests before taking open hunting contracts."
She turned the board toward him, pointing at the top notices. "The current mandatory tasks for new recruits include clearing out blocked subterranean sewage lines beneath the lower market district, clearing debris from the eastern drainage canals, and helping out in the local orphanage." Without a single word of complaint or a flicker of disgust on his face, Iver picked up the parchment forms.
"I’ll take them," he said.