Leonil sat at a small wooden table within the bustling hall of the H-Guild. Around him, the lively sounds of adventurers echoed—the clinking of mugs, boisterous laughter, and spirited debates about which missions to undertake. The air carried the scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and spilled ale.
As he scanned the room, his attention was caught by the approaching figure of a maid. She had an elegant presence, her green eyes glimmering under the warm light, and her outfit, though simple, accentuated her hourglass figure.
"Welcome to the H-Guild, traveler. Would you like to order something?" she asked with a cheerful smile.
Leonil stared at her for a moment, his analytical nature kicking in. His thoughts were absurdly intense for someone simply trying to order a meal. He snapped out of it and accepted the menu.
"One of these soups, two breads, butter, and an iced lime juice," he said, handing the menu back.
"Coming right up!" she replied, practically bouncing toward the kitchen.
Leonil leaned back, balancing precariously on the rear legs of his chair, his boot propped up on the table. He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.
Why did I end up here? This regression is completely different from the others. I'm supposed to be in the Dragonfang Duchy as a baby. Why am I starting as a teenager with no stats, no storage items, and no contact with the goddess? Is this some cruel joke? Or another trial? Leonil thought.
He clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. And Heron. That man. That bastard. I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do. His anger boiled over, and the chair tilted dangerously backward.
"Sir traveler? Your order is ready," the maid said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Leonil wobbled in his seat, hastily adjusting himself to avoid falling. He straightened up, flashed a polite smile, and thanked her. She returned to her duties, leaving him alone with his meal.
As he ate, he muttered under his breath, "Status." A translucent panel materialized in front of him.
Name: Leonil Dragonfang
Age: 18
Class: Swordsman
Titles: None
Level: 1
Stats:
STR:8 (+15)
AGI: 5 (+20)
DEX: 5 (+15)
INT: 7
MANA:0 (+3.5)
Leonil sighed. These stats are worse than a newborn. Even babies in this world have an average level of 3. If I don't start leveling up soon, even a house cat could kill me.
He opened his inventory and selected his lone weapon: the Steel Saber Fang Long Sword.
Item: Steel Saber Fang Long Sword
Rank: Unique
Item Description: Made from the Fang of Steel Saber Living in the Chaotic Mountain Range. Strong, long and Sharp.
+15 STR
+12 AGI
Unique Trait: Stabber – Stabbing enemies increases damage by twofold.
Leonil held the sword and felt a pang of regret. "Everything else is gone. My legendary armor, my enchanted accessories, my hoarded potions... gone. At least I have this."
He finished his meal and approached the mission wall. Dozens of parchments were pinned up, each detailing different jobs. After a moment of scanning, he pulled down a suitable mission:
Mission: Eliminate 10 Forest Sprites
Rank: F
Reward: 20 Silver Coins
This should do for now, he thought, heading to the clerk's desk.
"Welcome, adventurer. Would you like to take this mission?" the clerk, a sharply dressed man with an oddly serene smile, asked.
"Yes," Leonil replied.
The clerk scanned the paper and frowned slightly. "Ah, it seems you haven't registered as an adventurer yet. Please proceed to the information center first. I'll hold onto this paper until you're done."
Leonil groaned inwardly. Of course. More bureaucracy.
He trudged to the information center, where a cheerful female clerk greeted him. "Starting as an adventurer? Exciting! Here's your form."
Leonil filled it out, keeping his expression neutral but his thoughts racing. I need to stay low-profile. If anyone learns I'm connected to the Dragonfang Duchy, it could attract unnecessary attention.
He submitted the form, and the clerk placed it into a glowing device. The papers burned in a flash of golden light, and a screen appeared in front of her.
"Leonil Dreadnaught, 18 years old, occupation: Swordsman. No criminal history," she read aloud.
"Please look here," she said, forming a rectangle with her fingers. "Smile!"
Leonil's face remained stoic as a bright flash captured his image.
"Now, place your thumb here," the clerk instructed.
Leonil complied, and a small chime signaled the completion of his registration.
Adventurer ID
Name: Leonil Dreadnaught
Class: Bronze (Starting Rank)
Eligible Missions: F, G
"Congratulations, Mr. Leonil! You're officially registered. Bronze-ranked adventurers receive 100 silver coins as a starting allowance. Do you have any questions?"
"No, I'm good," Leonil replied curtly, eager to leave.
Returning to the first clerk, he presented his ID.
"Welcome back, Mr. Leonil. Your mission has been verified and registered in your Adventurer Panel. You can track your progress there. Best of luck!"
Leonil nodded and exited the guild.
Standing on the guild's front steps, Leonil decided to make a dramatic exit. He took a deep breath, adjusted his sword, and declared loudly, "The world shall know my name!"
Several bystanders turned to look, some chuckling while others gave him puzzled stares. A child nearby whispered, "Is he okay, Mom?"
Leonil's face turned crimson, and he briskly walked away, muttering under his breath, "I'm never doing that again."
_________
Flashback
As Leonil stood over the defeated gnoll, his chest heaving and his small hands trembling, his young mind swirled with exhilaration. Blood dripped from a shallow cut on his forehead, matting his dark hair. His cheeks flushed red—not from exertion, but from sheer, unbridled excitement.
Suddenly, his face twisted into a look of pure ecstasy, far beyond what the situation called for. His eyes glazed over, sparkling with an unsettling mix of adrenaline and glee. His lips parted into a crooked grin, and drool almost escaped the corner of his mouth. He clutched his sword tightly, holding it to his chest like it was the love of his life.
"This... THIS IS THE BEST!!!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the empty forest.
If anyone had seen him in this state, they might have thought he'd just seen the love of his life—or perhaps his first crush—except his focus was on the gnoll he had just slain.
His expression was horrifyingly perverted, as if he were auditioning for the role of the creepiest villain in a poorly animated cartoon. His eyes half-closed, he tilted his head back dramatically, basking in his own fantasy of heroism.
A butterfly landed on his shoulder, only to immediately flutter away in terror as Leonil's face contorted further, a high-pitched giggle slipping from his lips.
"This world! This magic! This blood-pumping thrill! I was BORN for this!"
Then, with a flourish, he struck an awkward pose, holding his sword out dramatically while trying to mimic the protagonist of his favorite manhwa. Unfortunately, his eight-year-old body wasn't used to such antics, and he slipped on the blood-slick grass, landing flat on his back with a loud "thud"
"Ow! Damn it...!" he hissed, clutching the back of his head as tears welled up in his eyes.
Even as he winced in pain, his grin remained. This is going to be amazing, he thought.