With the rising of a new dawn, Asher grinned brightly, wide awake at the edge of his family's farm, his excitement bubbling over. His grin was so big it might just split his face in two. Today was the day. No more thinking about it, no more dreaming—he was finally heading to the Adventurer's Guild.
The path ahead wasn't anything new. He'd walked it plenty of times before—delivering vegetables, chasing down runaway goats, picking up supplies from the village. But this time? This time, it wasn't about errands. It was about him. Leaving behind the fields and finally doing something exciting for a change.
His satchel was packed—barely. A few coins, a spare shirt, and the map his dad insisted he take, even though Asher was pretty sure he knew the way. His boots, scuffed from years of farm work, were still sturdy enough to carry him wherever adventure called.
Adjusting the strap of his bag, he rolled his shoulders. His brown hair was a mess from the wind—not that he cared. He was too busy soaking it all in—the crisp morning air, the golden fields stretching behind him, the familiar scent of tilled earth and hay.
It was almost funny. He'd spent his whole life here, working hard from sunrise to sunset, and yet, he wasn't tired of it. Not really. He loved the farm. He loved his home. But he… wanted more.
And now, he was finally going to get it.
Asher took one last look at the farmhouse in the distance, half expecting his dad to come storming out and tell him to get back to work. But no one stopped him. No one called him back.
"Guess that's that," he muttered, grinning.
With that, he took a deep breath, set his sights on the road ahead, and started walking—toward adventure, toward the unknown, toward whatever came next.
The Guild Hall was everything Asher imagined it would be—bustling with seasoned warriors, mages, and merchants.
Everywhere he looked, there was something exciting happening. Veterans shared stories over drinks, some guy in the corner was arguing about quest payments, and at the heart of it all stood a massive quest board, showcasing everything from pest control to dungeon clearing.
His heart pounded with excitement. This was it.
Taking it all in, he scanned the room for where he needed to start. Spotting a registration counter, he straightened up, squared his shoulders, and marched forward. Time to make it official.
Registering as an AdventurerThe form was simple—just a few basic questions.
"Name?"
"Asher."
"Age?"
"Eighteen."
"Preferred fighting style?"
"Uh… I dunno. I have a sickle?"
The clerk stared at him for a second, then, without comment, wrote it down anyway.
Next came the assessment test, meant to determine his starting rank. The guild didn't just let anyone waltz in and take quests—newcomers had to prove they could handle themselves first.
The choices were:
Strength Test – Breaking a wooden board with a single hit.
Speed Test – Dodging strikes from a training dummy.
Magic Affinity Test – Holding a mana stone to see if it reacted to their latent magic.
Asher, having no clue about magic or martial arts, figured strength was his best bet. He'd spent his whole life on a farm—how hard could it be?
The test was simple. He raised his fist and, with one solid crack, split the wooden board clean in two.
The clerk raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Not bad."
Asking About Magic and CultivationWith his strength test done, Asher glanced over at the mana stone on the table. Curiosity got the best of him.
"Hey, uh… What's the deal with magic? And what's that whole Qi thing people keep talking about?"
The clerk, a mid-tier adventurer who had definitely seen too many clueless newbies, leaned on the counter with a sigh.
"Alright, listen up. There are two main ways people fight. You either use mana to cast spells, or you use Qi to reinforce your body and fight with martial arts. Magic's flashy, martial arts are tough—it's all preference."
Asher nodded slowly, then frowned. "How do I know which one I can do?"
The clerk grabbed the mana stone and set it on the counter. "Easy. Touch this. If it glows, congrats, you've got magic in you. If not? Better start training your body."
Asher poked the stone.
…Nothing happened.
He tapped it again. Still nothing.
He looked up. "Is it broken?"
The clerk snorted. "Nope. Just means magic ain't your thing. Ever tried cultivating Qi?"
"…Cultivating what now?"
The clerk ran a hand down his face. "Right. You really are a farm kid."
Since Asher had no clue what Qi even was, the clerk gave him a quick rundown.
"Qi cultivation is about harnessing your inner energy—it's different from magic, but just as powerful. Warriors train by breathing techniques, meditation, and years of combat experience."
Asher squinted. "So… how do I do that?"
The clerk shrugged. "You sit still and breathe."
Asher blinked. "That sounds fake."
"Oh, buddy," the clerk chuckled, shaking his head. "You're in for a ride."
Officially an Adventurer with his strength test passed and no magic potential detected, Asher was officially registered as a Physical Fighter.
His weapon of choice? …The sickle from his satchel. The clerk gave him a skeptical look but let it slide.
Asher was handed his guild emblem, marking him as an official adventurer.
That was it.
No turning back now.