Outside the Guild Hall — Afternoon
"Here we are!" Connor announced.
Before them stood a tent much larger than the usual ones—easily the size of a large house. Above the entrance hung a wooden sign bearing the symbol of a sun.
"I imagine it's just like the infirmary tents," Dylan remarked.
"Don't count on it!" Connor replied before stepping into the guild, with Dylan right behind him.
He would never grow tired of this. One of the astounding things Dylan actually liked about this world was that strange magic that allowed massive structures to fit inside such compact exterior spaces.
On the outside, the guild tent looked like a modest house; however, the interior was significantly more spacious than even the infirmary.
The moment they stepped inside, Dylan found himself in a long, wide hall—as long as the infirmary and twice its width—paved with flagstone blocks. In the very center of the hall stood a small, donut-shaped wooden counter where several receptionists were hard at work.
Scattered across the hall were multiple tables where adventurers rested and chatted.
"This is the grand hall. I only came to check it out yesterday myself," Connor confessed, catching Dylan by surprise.
"You hadn't been here before? I thought you were already an adventurer," Dylan asked.
"Oh, no. I've technically been an adventurer for a few months, but I lived far away in a village with my family. I only arrived in Salusbreath Kingdom just a day before you did," Connor explained.
(So we're in a kingdom. Well, I suppose that was to be expected,) Dylan thought upon hearing the name of the realm they were in.
"Through those doors is the grand dining hall; it's the exact same size as this main room," Connor said, pointing toward a set of large, dark wooden doors along the right wall. He then pointed in the opposite direction, toward an identical set of doors. "And those over there lead to the library. It's ridiculously huge—at least five times larger than this hall, with bookshelves arranged like a maze if you don't know your way around."
Dylan nodded, then looked toward the smaller doors located in the corners of the guild.
"What are those doors for?" Dylan asked.
"The ones on the right lead to the alchemy lab and the private offices for both the receptionists and the Master. The ones on the left are the restrooms and the armory," Connor explained swiftly and precisely, not forgetting to mention details such as the library housing a subterranean room—a school where advanced magic was taught—or the restrooms being co-ed due to budget constraints.
Dylan thanked him for the tour before walking with Connor over to an empty table and sitting down.
"Alright, time to explain the rules of the guild," Connor announced, propping his feet up on the table and leaning back in his chair. "Don't trust adventurers who change parties too often... There, done," Connor finished, leaving Dylan completely incredulous. Visit novelping dot com for the full chapter.
"Done?" Dylan repeated, confused.
"Yeah, done. That's all you need to know. Adventurers who swap teams frequently usually fall into one of two categories: they're utterly useless, or they get their teammates killed," Connor revealed.
Strangely enough, that made a lot of sense. No one who went through constant group changes could be entirely free of blame.
Scarcely five minutes had passed when two mugs of juice were set down on their table, and Derek slipped into the seat beside Connor, looking at them with a grateful smile that Dylan didn't quite understand.
"Hey, guys! I'm so glad you came in early. I was waiting for you—was afraid you wouldn't show up until tomorrow," Derek confessed with a sigh of relief.
"Really? Why?" Dylan asked, eyeing the mug of juice cautiously; it looked like simple orange juice.
"Well, as a receptionist, it's my duty to brief new adventurers and explain how things work around here," Derek explained, rummaging through his neat vest to pull out a sheet of paper covered in writing. "I assume Connor already knows most of this, but you, Dylan, are still completely clueless about our rules, as Melissa explained to me. And trust me, it's better to learn this now rather than later—you don't want to run into trouble like so many transmigrators before you."
Derek's memories were still fresh and vivid: energetic adventurers showing up to take on missions with absolute self-confidence, only to be carried back into the guild lifeless.
With a sigh, Derek spread the paper across the table so Connor and Dylan could see it. The document outlined a clear hierarchy within the guild, with the Master at the pinnacle, followed by the Vice-Master, then the Rank S elites, all the way down to Rank F at the bottom.
"This right here is the hierarchy of our guild—and every other guild in Salusbreath. The two of you are currently positioned right here," Derek's finger tapped squarely on Rank F, exactly where Dylan expected. "The absolute bottom of the ladder. Now, I won't go into excessive detail because it would take too long, and frankly, time is one thing I don't have right now. So I'll just explain the mission classifications. Don't bite off more than you can chew."
Derek's words were stern, emphasized by the serious gaze he fixed on Dylan. Yet it didn't sound like a threat—it sounded like a grave warning. Connor, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh of boredom.
"Missions are classified by rank for a very good reason. There can be a massive gap between a Rank F mission and a Rank E one. I'm telling you this because I've seen plenty of transmigrators try to 'farm,' as they call it, or take on missions way above their pay grade just to climb the guild ranks quickly. HUGE MISTAKE!" Derek exclaimed with severity. "Just respect the rules, and you'll survive."
The number of transmigrators Derek had watched try to impose their will upon the world was staggering. Dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of transmigrators had already passed through the WildHorizon Guild, attempting to use their "knowledge" to make their adventurer lives easier or score quick achievements. Obviously, none of those methods worked.
Vaelthar devoured transmigrators whole.
"Is that clear?" Derek asked.
"Crystal," Dylan replied with a nod.
"Perfect!" Derek exclaimed with a bright smile as he stood up to leave. "By the way, whenever you want to pick up a mission, you report to me—and only me. I'm the receptionist assigned to look after you two."
Derek nodded, grateful and relieved that at least two adventurers had actually listened to him, and turned to leave. After taking a few steps, however, he remembered something and spun back around.
"One more thing, boys," Derek added.
"Sure, what is it?" Connor asked, reaching over to grab Dylan's unfinished mug and chugging it down.
"Do you think you could make room for one more person in your party? Just until she calms down and stabilizes," Derek requested.
"Of course! Our team is open to anyone!" Connor exclaimed eagerly.
(Since when are we a team?) Dylan wondered to himself.
Derek thanked them before heading toward the guild library. Twenty minutes later, Derek returned with a timid Rosevelle trailing right behind him.
"Ah, the one who thinks she's a girl!" Connor blurted out immediately, bringing fresh tears to Rosevelle's eyes.
"I don't think so! I am a girl!" Rosevelle protested defensively.
"That's not what you were saying this morning while you were swinging your sausage around the infirmary as you ran," Connor retorted.
Rosevelle flushed a deep crimson, opening her mouth to fire back, but Derek's raised hand cut her off.
"Actually, guys, she's not lying," Derek revealed, catching Connor off guard. "You see, Rosevelle died about four days ago, right when the war against the pig-men broke out. However, it seems the soul of a young girl named Mia was transmigrated at that exact moment and wound up inhabiting Rosevelle's body. It took her a few days to adjust until she finally woke up in the infirmary."
Without further ado, Derek grabbed Rosevelle by the shoulders and pushed her down into the seat beside Dylan and Connor, hurrying off to resume his receptionist duties.
"So... what should we call you? Rosevelle, or Mia?" Dylan asked cautiously, knowing the subject was a sensitive one for her.
"Rose is fine," she replied timidly.
Over the next hour, Dylan kept his word and conversed with Rose, helping her open up and easing the lingering nerves and disorientation she felt. During the chat, Dylan and Connor learned that Rose had died back on Earth before transmigrating and taking over Rosevelle's body. They also discovered she was 18 years old—just like them—and a massive fantasy fanatic.
"So, guys... are we taking on a mission today?" Rose asked shyly.
"We probably won't do it today, but we will choose one and register it under our names," Connor answered quickly. "I'll go look for a suitable one in a bit. Why don't you two head over to the dining hall and save us a table? The food here is free!" Connor added cheerfully. (And it will be for the next few months—those pig-man corpses have to disappear somehow).