Inigo and Garrick walked out of the room with Inigo closing the door behind him.
"Inigo," Garrick spoke. "Just as the guard says, you are free to roam around the capital for an hour. You have to return here after that time as you will be given an identification."
"You're not coming with me?" Inigo asked, glancing at him.
Garrick shook his head. "I am in no mood to walk around the capital. I will just stay here and wait. If you have any questions about the town, you can simply ask the locals."
Inigo nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll be back shortly."
With that, he stepped out onto the main street, and the full scale of the capital finally unfolded before him.
Elandra was, in a word, majestic.
The streets were immaculately clean—white cobblestone tiles polished smooth from years of use, laid out in perfect, symmetrical grids. There wasn't a hint of garbage anywhere. The air smelled of fresh bread, spices, and a trace of lavender from the flowerbeds arranged in brass planters along the avenues.
He glanced up and was awestruck by the architecture. Towering stone buildings lined the roads, a mix of medieval charm and neoclassical elegance. Ornate columns, wide archways, wrought-iron balconies with blooming flowers—each structure looked like it belonged on a postcard. The roofs were tiled in deep blue or red, contrasting with the pale walls that glowed softly under the morning sun.
Elandra didn't feel like a city out of a game.
It felt real.
As he wandered further, he came upon a broad plaza lined with silver lamp posts and marble benches. A large fountain stood in the center, water cascading down from a sculpture of an armored angel holding a sword. Dozens of people moved through the square—traders, nobles, and commoners alike. What caught his attention, however, was a particular group that stood out from the rest.
They wore matching uniforms—dark blazers over crisp white shirts, adorned with golden trim and house insignias. The girls wore pleated skirts with high socks or elegant dresses, while the boys were neatly dressed in tailored slacks and polished shoes. Each carried a staff or book of some kind. Magic students, he realized.
They chatted in pairs or small groups, laughter ringing out now and then. One girl, with long violet hair and striking emerald eyes, adjusted the ribbon at her collar while her friend conjured a tiny flame in her palm. Another was reviewing a floating parchment that scrolled itself as she walked. Inigo's jaw nearly dropped.
It was like walking into an anime scene.
"These people…" he murmured to himself. "They're attending a magic academy, aren't they? They should be. After all, what's the use of that uniform."
He wanted to learn more—but this wasn't the time. There was still more of the city to explore.
He turned away and headed deeper into the commercial district. He followed the signs—many of them in ornate script that the system helpfully translated for him—and eventually found what he was looking for.
The Adventurer's Guild.
The building was massive—taller than any other structure on the block, built from dark stone with stained glass windows and a grand set of double doors. The crest above the entrance showed a sword and staff crossed over a golden sun. It wasn't just a building. It was a monument.
He pushed the doors open.
The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted completely.
The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, alcohol, sweat, and smoke from oil lamps. A dozen voices overlapped in a low, constant hum. Inside was a large tavern-style space with wooden floors, beams across the ceiling, and long tables filled with armored adventurers, robed mages, and cloaked rogues. Some laughed loudly. Others argued over maps. A few were passed out over their mugs.
And to the left, tucked into a large counter with polished brass trim, stood a registration area—three receptionists sat behind it, handling paperwork for a growing line of hopeful adventurers.
Behind them was a massive corkboard pinned with parchment notices—quests.
Inigo walked forward, trying not to gawk too much. A bard played soft music from the corner, while a waitress carried tankards to a table full of mercenaries recounting some monster hunt with exaggerated hand gestures.
He made his way to the counter and waited his turn. Ahead of him was a dwarf in scale armor arguing over a failed escort mission, and behind him, a tall elven woman adjusted the blade on her back.
When his turn came, the receptionist looked up with a practiced smile. She was a woman in her late twenties, dressed in a blue guild uniform, blonde hair tied neatly behind her head, and a feather quill in her hand.
Even the receptionist here has model-like beauty.
"Welcome to the Elandra Adventurer's Guild," she said. "Are you here to post a quest, turn one in, or register?"
Inigo gave a slight bow. "I'd like to register."
"First-time registrant?" she asked.
"Yes."
She pulled out a clipboard and placed a form in front of him. "You'll need to fill out some basic details—name, age, known skills or magic, any combat experience. It's mostly for internal records. Once approved, you'll receive a guild card and be added to our system. Starting rank is Bronze."
"Wait, I won't have to touch some magical orb to determine my rank or power?" Inigo asked, recalling every RPG and anime trope where the hero's stats were revealed in a glowing room with dramatic flair.
The receptionist chuckled softly, shaking her head. "No, not here. That's only done at some noble-run institutions or specialized mage guilds. The Adventurer's Guild doesn't assess based on innate mana or bloodline potential."
She tapped the form gently. "We rank adventurers based on one thing: results. The quests you complete, the danger you face, the way you handle yourself in the field—that's what matters here. Plenty of successful adventurers don't have an ounce of mana in them. Fighters, rogues, hunters… some never cast a single spell their entire careers."
Inigo let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That's... good to know."
"Magic helps," she added, "but it's not everything. If you've got skill, guts, and a little luck, you'll rise through the ranks like anyone else."
He nodded and began filling out the form she'd handed him. Name: Inigo. Age: 17. Skills: Ranged combat, tactical decision-making, battlefield awareness. Magic: None.
He hesitated briefly, then scribbled, Combat proficiency—non-magical.
She glanced at his entries as he handed it back. "You mentioned you had some combat experience?"
"Yes," he replied.
"I see—that's an advantage. Now for the final step, you will just have to pay for the registration fee," the receptionist said, sliding a small brass tray forward. "Standard registration cost is two silver coins. This covers your guild ID, administrative processing, and your provisional ranking as a Bronze adventurer."
Inigo reached into his satchel and pulled out a few of the coins he had been given back in Valebrook. He counted out two silver coins and placed them on the tray.
[–2 Silver Coins]
[Remaining Balance: 48 Silver Coins, 23 Copper]
"Thank you," the receptionist said as she scooped up the coins. She turned behind her, called for a blank guild card, and began to fill in the details by hand with quick, practiced strokes. A soft hum resonated as she pressed the card into a shallow metal mold and channeled a bit of magic into it—just enough to seal the inscription with a faint shimmer. She then attached a leather cord through a hole at the top and handed it to Inigo.
"Congratulations, Inigo," she said, her smile widening. "You're now officially registered with the Elandra Adventurer's Guild. Wear this badge whenever you're taking a quest or interacting with guild personnel. It also serves as your proof of status across most cities and towns affiliated with the Adventurer's Network."
Inigo accepted the badge with both hands, bowing slightly. "Thank you."
"Now," she continued, pointing to a wide board behind her, "that's the job board. Quests are categorized by difficulty and rank. You can take on most jobs within your level, but if you're feeling confident, you can request permission to attempt a higher-tier quest. Just don't get in over your head."
He nodded again. "Understood."
"And if you ever need lodging, gear upgrades, or party formation, the guild's facilities cover those too. We also have a cafeteria through those doors to your right," she added, gesturing toward a rowdy dining area where mugs clinked and plates clattered. "Good food, cheap drinks, and stories that aren't always exaggerated."
Inigo gave a small chuckle. "Sounds like a place I'll be seeing a lot of."
"Most do," she said with a wink.
With his new badge hanging from his neck, Inigo stepped aside to let the next registrant through. The leather cord felt light, but the weight of the opportunity now in his hands was unmistakable. He turned to study the bustling interior again—mercenaries comparing scars, spellcasters idly dueling with flickers of flame and wind magic, and beastkin lounging with their feet kicked up as they debated their latest mission failures.
He was officially part of this world now. Not just a visitor, but a player.
And this?
This was just the beginning.
He moved toward the job board, scanning the rows of parchment notices pinned under color-coded tags. Bronze-tier quests were listed in green—mostly simple tasks: herb gathering, pest extermination, lost pet recovery. But a few caught his eye—escort duties, monster subjugation, and even the rare bounty listing.
Before he could read further, a voice called out beside him.
"First time here?"
Inigo turned to see a young man, maybe a year or two older than him, leaning casually against a wooden beam. He wore light leather armor reinforced with metal studs, a short sword at his hip and a bow slung over one shoulder. His tousled brown hair gave him a roguish air, but his tone was friendly.
"Yeah," Inigo said, offering a polite nod. "Just registered."
"Nice. Name's Colm," the man said, holding out a hand. "Bronze rank, like you. Don't let the veterans intimidate you. Half of them were scrubbing latrines or getting stabbed by kobolds a few months ago."
Inigo shook his hand. "Inigo. Good to meet you."
"Looking for your first quest?"
"Trying to figure out what I can handle."
Colm grinned. "Advice? Pick one that sounds boring. Easy way to learn how the system works, how the paperwork goes, and how long it takes to get paid. Trust me—you don't want to screw up your first job and get blacklisted."
"Good point."
"I did a rat hunt in the eastern granaries my first week. Smelled awful. Got bit twice. But I got paid."
Inigo laughed. "Sounds like it built character."
"That's one way to put it. Or—perhaps we can team-up and take subjugation quest together."