THE COLDEST DEMON GOD
An Unwanted Hero's Ascension
Volume 1 — Summoning & Rejection
Chapter 13 — The First Guild Card
The Adventurer Guild was louder from the inside.
Not merely louder in volume.
Different kinds of noise occupied different parts of the three-storey hall and somehow managed to coexist without becoming complete chaos. Tankards struck wooden tables near the western wall. Boots crossed floorboards polished smooth by years of traffic. Clerks called names from behind long counters while adventurers argued about payment, damaged equipment, road conditions, monster parts and whose fault it had been that someone’s tent had caught fire.
The air smelled of leather, steel, alcohol, roasted meat, lamp oil, herbs, sweat and something distinctly reptilian coming from a scaled hide being dragged toward a reinforced counter near the back.
Renjiro stood just inside the entrance.
For several seconds, he simply watched.
Three main service counters occupied the far side of the ground floor. One handled registration and general inquiries. Another appeared responsible for completed commissions and payment. A third dealt with monster materials and purchasing.
Two staircases led upward.
Four public notice boards covered most of the eastern wall.
Renjiro’s attention stopped there.
Escort requests.
Gathering commissions.
Courier work.
Missing-person notices.
Local security.
Monster sightings.
Survey requests.
Material collection.
Several postings carried different seals, suggesting access restrictions.
Real quests.
Posted on a real Guild board.
Something small shifted beneath Renjiro’s usual calm.
Satisfaction.
Someone behind him clicked their tongue.
“If you’re going to stand in the doorway, move.”
Renjiro stepped aside.
A broad-shouldered adventurer carrying a shield walked past without another glance.
Reasonable.
Renjiro continued observing.
The racial mix inside the Guild differed noticeably from most of Aureum.
Humans still formed the majority, but not exclusively. A Dwarf sat at one table arguing with an Elf over the broken mechanism of a crossbow. Two Beastkin adventurers studied a map near the commission boards. A Half-Elf receptionist worked farther down the counter.
No collars.
Renjiro remembered the servants, chained prisoners and ownership restraints he had seen elsewhere in Valentia.
One Guild branch did not prove that Adventurer Guild culture was universally better.
It did prove that the relationship between race, law and institution was more complicated than the Imperial Palace suggested.
Useful.
He walked toward registration.
Three people stood ahead of him.
A young man in poorly fitted leather armour appeared determined to explain his entire childhood to the receptionist. A woman carrying a short bow followed. Then an older labourer with several identification documents.
Renjiro waited.
Forms.
Questions.
Identification where available.
A small crystal plate.
A blank metal card.
Payment.
By the time the young man in leather armour stepped away clutching his new Guild card with both hands, Renjiro understood the basic sequence.
The boy looked approximately one speech away from crying.
Renjiro hoped that part was optional.
The line moved.
Several minutes later—
“Next.”
Renjiro approached.
The receptionist looked to be in her mid-twenties. Chestnut hair had been tied behind her head, and her expression carried the fatigue of someone who had answered the same twelve questions several hundred times.
A badge on her chest read:
MIRA VELL — REGISTRATION & COMMISSIONS
Good.
A name.
“New registration?”
“Yes.”
“Identification.”
Renjiro removed the Imperial release notice from his satchel.
Not the original agricultural paperwork.
The one document Valentia had actually completed.
NOTICE OF RELEASE FROM IMPERIAL RESIDENTIAL PROGRAM
Mira unfolded it.
Her eyes moved across the Imperial seal.
Then the name.
Her expression changed slightly.
“Renjiro Kurogane.”
“Yes.”
“Age?”
“Eighteen.”
“Place of origin?”
“Tokyo, Japan.”
Her pen stopped.
“Where is that?”
“Earth.”
Nothing.
Renjiro added, “Another world.”
Silence.
The clerk working beside Mira slowly looked over.
Mira looked at the Imperial seal again.
Then at Renjiro.
“You’re one of the summoned people.”
“Yes.”
Rumours had travelled.
Not surprising.
Thirty students and one teacher appearing inside the Imperial Palace was not the kind of event a capital kept completely quiet.
Mira lowered her voice slightly.
“I thought all of you were staying at the palace.”
“They are.”
She waited.
Renjiro did not continue.
“And you?”
“I don’t live there anymore.”
“Why?”
“Valentia decided I wasn’t useful to the Hero program.”
The nearby clerk’s pen stopped.
Mira studied him.
Renjiro’s expression remained neutral.
“And you’re alright with that?”
“Yes.”
“That was quick.”
“I wanted to leave.”
“Ah.”
Mira looked back at the release notice.
“That explains less than you think.”
“It explains enough.”
She stared for another second.
Then returned to the form.
“Do you have an Asterian Job registration?”
“Unskilled Civilian.”
Her pen moved.
“Secondary aptitude?”
“Farmer.”
This time the clerk beside her looked over openly.
Renjiro looked back.
The man returned immediately to his paperwork.
Mira paused.
“Farmer.”
“Yes.”
“And you came here.”
“Yes.”
“To register as an adventurer.”
“Yes.”
She placed both hands on the counter.
“Why?”
“Because I want to.”
Mira waited.
Nothing else came.
“That’s the entire reason?”
“Do I need another one?”
“No.”
“Then yes.”
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Short.
Surprised.
Renjiro looked at her.
“Something funny?”
“Not exactly.”
She pulled a registration sheet from beneath the counter.
“The Guild accepts all kinds of Jobs. Adventuring isn’t only monster hunting. We handle gathering, surveying, escort work, courier commissions, salvage, ruin support, material collection and dozens of civilian contracts.”
“Good.”
“But—”
There it was.
Mira tapped the form.
“If you accept work outside protected areas, your Job does not become an excuse when something goes wrong.”
“Reasonable.”
“We don’t guarantee rescue.”
“Also reasonable.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“You’re taking that surprisingly well.”
“Why?”
“New adventurers usually dislike that rule.”
“People entering dangerous places voluntarily shouldn’t assume someone else is obligated to risk their life retrieving them.”
Mira became quiet.
The other clerk looked over again.
“That’s a cold way to put it,” she said.
“Is it wrong?”
She opened her mouth.
Stopped.
“No.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Then it’s fine.”
For some reason, that appeared to bother her more than an argument would have.
She pushed the form toward him.
“Name. Age. Origin. Race if known. Job. Any officially registered Skills. Combat specialization if you want it recorded.”
Renjiro picked up the pen.
The Asterian script still required conscious attention, but considerably less than it had two days earlier.
He wrote.
RENJIRO KUROGANE
AGE: 18
ORIGIN: TOKYO, JAPAN — EARTH
RACE: HUMAN — OTHERWORLD ORIGIN
JOB: UNSKILLED CIVILIAN
SECONDARY APTITUDE: FARMER
Registered Skills.
None.
Exactly as intended.
Combat specialization.
Renjiro paused.
Kendo.
Multiple martial arts.
Weapons training.
Survival.
None of those were Asterian registered Skills.
More importantly, he had no reason to volunteer them.
He left the field blank.
Mira noticed.
“No combat specialization?”
“Nothing I’m registering.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“That was very specific.”
“You asked what I wanted recorded.”
“I asked whether you have combat training.”
“No. You asked what should be recorded.”
The clerk beside her coughed into one fist.
Mira slowly turned toward him.
He became fascinated by paperwork.
Renjiro slid the form back.
Mira read it.
“You know, I have the feeling I’m going to regret registering you.”
“You can reject it.”
She continued reading.
“Unfortunately, you haven’t done anything disqualifying.”
“Then we’re fine.”
“You are strange.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Frequently?”
“Recently.”
Mira exhaled and reached beneath the counter.
A palm-sized crystal plate appeared between them.
“Hand.”
Renjiro did not immediately comply.
He focused.
Appraisal Eyes answered.
GUILD REGISTRATION PLATE
Origin: Asterian Guild Artifact
Primary Function: Identity Verification • Guild Record Synchronization
Detection Method: Shallow Mana-Soul Resonance
Readable Data: Name • Race • Job • Level • Recognizable Registered Skills
Authority: Civilian-Grade
Limitation: Shallow Soul-Reading Depth
Limitation: Not Designed for Divine System Structures
Threat to Protected Profile: Negligible
Good.
Not the Imperial Status Crystal.
Not Chronies’ Divine System.
A separate native Guild artifact operating within the same Asterian Job-based framework.
Renjiro placed his hand against it.
Cold crystal touched his palm.
Mana moved.
His protected profile responded automatically.
Not by resisting.
By presenting exactly what the artifact expected to see.
Light spread beneath his fingers.
Letters appeared.
RENJIRO KUROGANE
Race: Human — Otherworld Origin
Job: Unskilled Civilian
Secondary Aptitude: Farmer
Level: 1
Registered Skills: None
Mira stared.
The clerk beside her stopped pretending not to listen.
Renjiro removed his hand.
“Problem?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Not technically.”
“Then continue.”
“You really are Level One.”
“Apparently.”
“And no registered Skills.”
“Yes.”
Mira rubbed one temple.
“Do you understand that there are monsters outside Aureum capable of killing an ordinary Level One civilian before he realizes he’s being attacked?”
“Yes.”
“You answered that too quickly.”
“The possibility was obvious before you said it.”
“Then why are you registering?”
Renjiro’s gaze shifted toward the commission boards.
Mira followed it.
For years, quests had existed behind interfaces.
Accept.
Complete.
Reward.
Repeat.
Fiction.
A hobby he enjoyed privately.
Now armed adventurers were crossing the room with monster hides over their shoulders while actual commissions waited on wooden boards twenty metres away.
No Imperial officer had ordered him here.
No Goddess had assigned him a mission.
No teacher had scheduled the activity.
He had walked in because he wanted to.
“The palace spent several days telling me what I was supposed to become,” Renjiro said.
Mira listened.
“The Guild seems more interested in whether I follow its rules and survive my own decisions.”
“That’s mostly accurate.”
“I prefer that.”
Her expression changed.
Not pity.
Something closer to understanding.
Renjiro looked back at her.
“If I make a stupid decision, that’s mine.”
Mira remained quiet for several seconds.
Then she sighed.
“Fine.”
She placed a blank metal card against the registration plate.
Mana travelled through both objects.
Lines spread across the card.
The Guild crest appeared first.
Then text.
Mira handed it to him.
Renjiro accepted it.
Cool metal rested against his fingers.
ADVENTURER GUILD
AUREUM — EASTERN BRANCH
RENJIRO KUROGANE
Race: Human — Otherworld Origin
Job: Unskilled Civilian
Secondary Aptitude: Farmer
Level: 1
Registered Skills: None
Status: Registered
Renjiro stared.
A Guild card.
His Guild card.
The magical pattern engraved across the back probably served as identification and anti-forgery protection.
He checked.
Appraisal Eyes confirmed it.
Renjiro dismissed the information.
He kept looking at the card.
Mira waited.
Ten seconds passed.
“You look exactly the same.”
Renjiro raised his eyes.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at that card for ten seconds.”
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
A small smile entered her voice.
“Are you happy?”
Renjiro considered the question.
“Yes.”
Mira stared.
“That’s your happy face?”
“Yes.”
The clerk beside her turned away before his shoulders betrayed him.
Mira pointed toward the quest boards.
“Go. Before I decide personality should be a registration requirement.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t.”
She stared.
Renjiro placed the card inside his satchel.
Not Void Box.
He wanted it physically there.
For now.
“Commission rules?”
Mira sighed.
Then switched back into professional mode.
“General low-risk commissions are open to newly registered adventurers. Some contracts require proven completions, additional certification, party requirements or branch authorization.”
“So access isn’t determined only by Level.”
“No.”
Good.
“The Guild considers Job, Level, registered Skills, previous completions, conduct, party composition, client requirements and known risk.”
Better.
“If a posting isn’t available to you, the contract seal won’t validate acceptance.”
“Material ownership?”
“Read the contract. Some clients purchase everything. Some only want proof of completion. Some surrender monster materials to the adventurer. Some specify exactly what must be returned.”
“Penalties?”
“Also written on the contract.”
“Abandonment?”
“Depends on urgency and damage caused.”
“Death?”
Mira looked at him.
“The Guild waives late penalties.”
Renjiro paused.
“That seems reasonable.”
She closed her eyes.
“Please go read the board.”
He did.
✦ ✦ ✦
The commission boards were better than expected.
Not because the available work was impressive.
Most of it was ordinary.
Deliver grain invoices to three villages.
Assist surveyors repairing boundary markers.
Collect medicinal herbs.
Escort a merchant wagon along a road considered safe enough that the client apparently refused to pay experienced adventurers.
Remove slimes from an irrigation pond.
Find a missing dog.
Renjiro studied all of them.
Ordinary work revealed more about Asteria than monster-slaying notices did.
Travel distances.
Road conditions.
Common materials.
Currency.
Local dangers.
Which plants were valuable enough to commission.
Which monsters were considered pests rather than threats.
Several notices caught his attention.
SILVERLEAF COLLECTION
Requested Quantity: 20–30 Healthy Leaves
Region: Eastern Aureum Farmland / Outer Woodland Margin
Risk Assessment: Low
Special Condition: Fresh Material Preferred
Renjiro read it twice.
Silverleaf.
He already knew what it looked like.
Oren had shown him how the plant grew.
Appraisal Eyes could confirm identification if necessary.
And tomorrow’s trip would give him an excuse to study the roads beyond Aureum without taking a combat commission before calibrating Divine Body.
Good.
“You planning to fight the board?”
A rough voice came from beside him.
Renjiro turned.
The man was perhaps in his late forties, heavily built without being slow. Old scars crossed one forearm. His leather-and-mail equipment had been repaired repeatedly, always functionally.
A sword rested at his hip.
Renjiro focused briefly.
GARRAN HOLT
Race: Human
Occupation: Veteran Adventurer
Specialization: Sword • Shield • Field Survival
Condition: Healthy • Chronic Left Knee Damage
Current Intent: Assess Inexperienced Newcomer
Renjiro dismissed the information.
“No.”
Garran looked at the Silverleaf notice.
“First commission?”
“Yes.”
His gaze moved over Renjiro.
No armour.
No sword.
One satchel.
Then the Guild card in Renjiro’s hand.
“You picked herbs.”
“Yes.”
“Smart.”
Renjiro looked at him.
Garran shrugged.
“Half the idiots who register today think they should kill goblins tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because goblins are small.”
“That’s a poor reason.”
Garran laughed.
“Exactly.”
He pointed toward the Silverleaf notice.
“Road east is mostly safe. Mostly.”
“Meaning?”
“Caravans, farmers and Guild parties use it constantly. Patrols keep major monster movement away from the road.”
A pause.
“Major.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Small packs can still cross.”
“Greyfangs?”
Garran looked at him more carefully.
“You’ve been studying.”
“A little.”
“Greyfangs. Horned boars. Goblins farther from the farms. Slimes anywhere wet enough.”
“Any specific warning?”
“Don’t chase anything into the tree line.”
Useful.
“If you hear one animal running toward you, look behind it.”
Also useful.
“If the road suddenly becomes quiet?”
“Leave.”
Renjiro nodded again.
Garran’s expression changed.
“You’ve done this before?”
“No.”
“Camping?”
“Yes.”
“Hunting?”
“Yes.”
“Tracking?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look like someone’s accountant?”
Renjiro looked down at his clothes.
“They’re comfortable.”
Garran laughed loudly enough that several adventurers turned.
“Name’s Garran Holt.”
“Kurogane Renjiro.”
“Kurogane.”
Garran tested the surname.
“Try not to die on your first herb run.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“That’s all?”
“What else?”
“Most rookies say something confident.”
Renjiro looked toward the quest board.
“Confidence doesn’t stop teeth.”
Garran became quiet.
Then nodded once.
“No.”
His tone changed slightly.
“It doesn’t.”
He walked away.
Renjiro watched him go.
That conversation had contained more practical field information than several hours of Valentian Hero orientation.
He removed the Silverleaf notice.
✦ ✦ ✦
Mira saw the commission in his hand.
Then looked at him.
Then back at the paper.
“Silverleaf.”
“Yes.”
“You listened.”
“You recommended collection work.”
“I did.”
She accepted the notice.
“I didn’t think you’d choose one immediately.”
“Why would I wait?”
“It’s late afternoon.”
“I know.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Renjiro placed the paper on the counter.
“I’m accepting it now. I’m not leaving Aureum tonight.”
Mira visibly relaxed.
“You assumed I would?”
“You joined the Guild without a weapon.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
Her eyes moved briefly toward his registration record.
Level One.
Unskilled Civilian.
No registered Skills.
Renjiro followed her gaze.
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Mira covered her mouth.
Too late.
A laugh escaped.
Renjiro waited.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
She looked at him.
He was not offended.
He was simply correct.
Mira laughed again.
“Fine. I’m not.”
“Better.”
She placed his Guild card against a smaller plate built into the counter.
The contract seal lit.
A faint inscription appeared across the card.
ACTIVE COMMISSION
SILVERLEAF COLLECTION
Then faded into the engraved Guild pattern.
Renjiro stared.
A real quest.
His first one.
Silverleaf.
Twenty leaves.
Possibly the least impressive adventure available in Aureum.
He was still pleased.
Ridiculous.
Mira handed the card back.
“The collection counter opens shortly after sunrise. Freshness matters. Don’t crush the leaves.”
“I know.”
“You’ve collected Silverleaf before?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Oren taught me yesterday.”
“Oren?”
“Imperial agricultural specialist.”
Mira paused.
“Right.”
Her eyes dropped to the Job written on his Guild record.
“Farmer aptitude.”
“Apparently.”
For once, it had become genuinely useful.
Mira pointed toward the exit.
“Go find somewhere to sleep.”
“Any recommendation?”
“Cheap?”
“Clean.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“I know.”
“Food?”
“Important.”
“Quiet?”
“More important.”
Mira considered.
“The Willow Rest. Two streets south, then one east. Family-run. Clean rooms. Decent food. Not cheap enough to attract every drunk in the district.”
“Good.”
“Avoid the stew on fifth-day evenings.”
Renjiro looked at her.
“Why?”
“No one knows.”
“That’s concerning.”
“It really is.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Thanks.”
Mira blinked.
Perhaps because genuine gratitude sounded unusual after the previous twenty minutes.
“You’re welcome.”
He turned.
Then stopped.
“One more question.”
Mira closed her eyes.
“What?”
“Blacksmith.”
Her eyes opened again.
“We have several.”
“I’ve already met Bram.”
Mira stared.
“Bram?”
“Yes.”
“You walked into Bram’s forge?”
“Yes.”
“And walked out?”
Renjiro looked at himself.
“Apparently.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“He told me to bring a drawing.”
Mira became quiet.
“A drawing of what?”
“A katana.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Neither does he.”
“And he still told you to come back?”
“Yes.”
Mira stared at him for several seconds.
“That might actually be more concerning than the stew.”
“Why?”
“Bram doesn’t like people.”
“I noticed.”
“He likes adventurers even less.”
“He thought I was annoying.”
“That means he likes you.”
Renjiro looked at her.
“That seems unhealthy.”
The other clerk laughed.
Mira ignored him.
“If Bram agreed to discuss a custom weapon, go back tomorrow morning. Not tonight. He closes the public counter early when he’s working on something difficult.”
“Useful.”
“And if he shouts at you—”
“He already did.”
“Then you’re fine.”
Interesting culture.
Renjiro left.
✦ ✦ ✦
Mira watched him disappear through the Guild doors.
Her coworker finally stopped pretending he had not listened to most of the registration.
“He’ll quit.”
“Maybe.”
“Level One. No Skills. Farmer aptitude.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll see his first real monster and run.”
“Maybe.”
The man resumed writing.
Mira picked up Renjiro’s registration form.
Renjiro Kurogane.
Eighteen.
Otherworld origin.
Unskilled Civilian.
Farmer.
Nothing remarkable.
Except almost nothing about the conversation had felt like speaking to an ordinary eighteen-year-old who had just been expelled from an Imperial Hero program and registered for dangerous work in a foreign world.
No boasting.
No desperation.
No embarrassment over the Job.
No attempt to prove Valentia wrong.
He had simply wanted a Guild card.
Mira remembered Garran laughing near the commission board.
That was unusual too.
Her coworker shrugged.
“Otherworlders are probably all strange.”
Mira looked toward the entrance.
“No.”
She placed the form into the registration archive.
“That one’s strange on his own.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Night had settled across Aureum by the time Renjiro reached the Willow Rest.
Mana lamps illuminated the main streets in pale gold. Shops were closing their shutters while taverns became progressively louder.
The Imperial Palace remained visible above much of the city.
Renjiro looked at it once.
Then entered the inn.
He did not miss the palace.
Not the enormous room.
Not the servants.
Not the food prepared for summoned Heroes.
Not the schedules.
Shizuka and the others were still there.
That was different.
But for now, they had chosen their direction.
Renjiro had chosen his.
The Willow Rest occupied the ground and upper floors of an old timber building with a stone foundation. The common room smelled of bread, cooked onions, smoke and clean wood rather than stale alcohol.
Good sign.
The innkeeper was a broad middle-aged man with greying hair and the permanent expression of someone accustomed to travellers attempting to negotiate prices.
“Room?”
“Yes.”
“One night?”
“Possibly more.”
“Food?”
“Yes.”
The man named the price.
Renjiro calculated his remaining coins.
Acceptable.
Barely.
He paid.
The room on the second floor contained a bed, small table, chair, wash basin, shutters and a lock.
Enough.
Renjiro placed his satchel down.
Then checked the room.
Appraisal Eyes.
No surveillance artifact.
No hidden magical observer.
No tracking enchantment.
No structural problem more serious than an old window hinge.
Good.
He ate downstairs.
Bread.
Roasted chicken.
Root vegetables.
Soup.
Simple.
Properly cooked.
Better than expected.
When Renjiro finished, he returned upstairs and locked the door.
The Guild card came out first.
Then the Silverleaf commission.
He placed both on the table.
For several seconds, Renjiro simply looked at them.
A card.
A herb-gathering request.
Nothing extraordinary.
Yet the small metal rectangle carried more personal value than any title Valentia could have offered.
He had not received it because Chronies chose him.
He had not received it because Emperor Aldric evaluated his usefulness.
Nobody had assigned it to him.
Renjiro had walked into a building, filled out a form, accepted the rules and obtained it because he wanted one.
A small smile appeared.
No one saw it.
Better.
He picked up the Guild card again.
RENJIRO KUROGANE
Job: Unskilled Civilian
Secondary Aptitude: Farmer
Level: 1
Registered Skills: None
His fake public life was almost aggressively unimpressive.
Renjiro found that mildly entertaining.
“Good enough.”
He set the card down.
Tomorrow he needed a map.
The Silverleaf route.
Basic field supplies.
Bram.
A wooden training weapon if the smith had anything suitable.
He also needed to observe monsters without assuming his Earth instincts automatically mapped onto Asterian biology.
And Divine Body still required proper calibration.
Renjiro opened his true Status.
Not the Guild record.
Not a native crystal.
His protected interface.
RENJIRO KUROGANE
TRUE PROFILE: PROTECTED
DIVINE BODY
DIVINE CREATION
DIVINE DISGUISE
INFINITE ITEM STORAGE / VOID BOX
SPOOFING & STATUS MASKING
APPRAISAL EYES
His attention paused on DIVINE DISGUISE.
No reason.
Not yet.
The Guild knew Renjiro Kurogane.
That was fine.
Valentia believed him weak.
Also fine.
Creating another identity without a practical need would only complicate things.
He moved on.
DIVINE CREATION.
Still untested.
The temptation had increased considerably now that he was outside the palace.
A katana would solve several problems immediately.
It would also create new ones if Divine Creation produced something far beyond local craftsmanship.
Bram first.
Asterian steel first.
Local baseline first.
Then—
later.
Somewhere private.
Renjiro closed the Status.
Beyond the Willow Rest’s shutters, Aureum continued beneath the night.
Beyond the city walls waited fields, forests, villages and unfamiliar roads.
Silverleaf.
Greyfang wolves.
Horned boars.
Goblins.
Ruins.
And eventually—
Labyrinths.
Renjiro placed the Guild card beside the Silverleaf commission.
Tomorrow would be his first quest.
For the first time since arriving in Asteria, waking up early had nothing to do with school, Valentia, a Goddess or someone else’s plan.
He was genuinely looking forward to morning.
End of Chapter 13