Zion stepped into the guild, his heart steady despite the noise of clashing mugs, laughter, and chattering adventurers.
It had been a day since his mission, and he was here to turn it in.
At the reception desk, Helga's eyes darted toward him. Her face tensed with worry as she leaned forward.
"Zion! You—you're back!" she said. "You have no idea how much trouble I caused you!"
Zion raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, placing a small pouch filled with herbs on the counter.
"The west side quest!" she scolded, jabbing a finger at him. "There were sightings of goblins in that area. The boss told us to remove it from the board, but before I could do it, you—"
She shook her head, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry. You're only Rank F. If something had happened—"
"I'm fine," Zion replied calmly. "See? Quest completed."
He slid the parchment of the quest report toward her, showing it was complete.
Helga's eyes twitched, her lips tightening into a thin line. She grabbed the parchment and checked it.
"You're lucky you're not hurt," she muttered. "At least you finished it. The herbs look fresh too."
She stamped the form with a loud thud and glanced back at him. "Anything else to report?"
Zion's lips curled into a slight grin.
Without a word, he pulled another small bag from his pouch and placed it on the counter with a soft thud.
Helga's eyes narrowed.
"What's that?" she asked, her fingers hovering over the bag as if it might explode.
"Goblin ears," Zion said plainly.
He untied the pouch, and the pointed, green ears spilled out.
Seven in total.
A hush fell over the nearby adventurers.
They turned their heads, glancing at the ears with mild surprise.
It wasn't uncommon for goblin ears to be collected as proof of kills, but for a Rank F to bring in seven—that was another story.
"Seven goblins?" Helga's eyes darted to Zion's face. "You… you fought them?"
"Yeah," Zion replied with a shrug. "They're weak. Barely half my height."
He glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers as if recalling the battle. "Besides, it's not my first fight."
Whispers broke out among the adventurers.
"He's just Rank F, right?" one of them muttered.
"Yeah, but he's already fighting goblins?" another replied.
"They're small fry, but seven…" a third adventurer added, rubbing his chin. "That's not something just anyone can do."
Helga's eyes softened, a hint of pride crossing her face.
"Alright," she said, scooping up the goblin ears and placing them into a counting box. "I'll process your reward for the goblins. Seven goblins at… two silver each."
She did some quick math. "That's fourteen silver on top of the three silver for the herb quest. Not bad."
She handed him the coins with a small smile. "But next time, don't just walk into danger like that."
Zion took the coins and tucked them away.
"I'll be fine," he said, turning to leave but then stopped. "Actually, I'd like to rank up."
Helga's brows raised. "Already?" She looked him up and down. "You know you'll need to pass a combat exam to reach Rank D. And Rank D quests involve monster hunting."
"I'm ready," Zion said without hesitation.
Helga's eyes stayed on him for a moment before she nodded.
"Alright. Combat exams aren't easy, but I'll schedule you in."
She glanced at the large wooden doors leading to the training hall. "Follow me."
The guild's training hall was large and open, with sand covering the ground to soften impacts.
Various adventurers practiced with wooden swords and sparred with one another.
Helga called out to one of the instructors, a tall man with short brown hair and sharp eyes. His presence alone felt like it carried weight.
"Vren, we've got a combat exam," Helga called to him.
Vren walked over, wiping his hands on a towel. He glanced at Zion, sizing him up.
"This man?" he said with a raised brow. "Alright, let's see what he's got."
He tossed aside the towel and grabbed a wooden sword from the rack.
"Ready, rookie?"
Zion nodded, walking to the center of the training area and picking up his wooden sword.
"Don't hold back," Zion said, gripping the sword firmly. "I need this."
"Don't worry," Vren replied with a cocky grin. "I'll be sure to crush that overconfidence of yours."
He stepped into his stance, wooden sword held loose but ready.
Helga raised her hand.
"Begin!" she shouted.
Vren dashed forward, faster than Zion expected. His movements were sharp and precise, a clear sign of his experience.
Zion's eyes widened, and he barely managed to raise his dagger in time to block.
The clash echoed like thunder, sending a sharp vibration up Zion's arms. His grip wavered, but he held firm.
'He's fast!' shock came to Zion. 'He is not just ordinary man.'
"Too slow kid," Vren said, his grin widening. But deep inside, he was also shocked.
'Fuck! Who is this man? Is he really Rank F?'
He was planning to not raise Zion's rank up.
With a wrist twist, he shoved Zion's dagger aside and went for a quick jab at his side.
Zion jumped back just in time, his eyes locked on Vren's every move.
"He's fast!" one of the onlookers muttered. "Is he really able to match Vren's speed?"
Zion's eyes narrowed, and breathing steadied as he adjusted his stance.
Vren lunged at him again, his wooden sword aiming for Zion's shoulder.
Zion ducked low, pivoting on his heel, and swung his dagger upward.
Vren's eyes flickered with surprise as he twisted his body to avoid the strike.
"Nice try," Vren said, landing a heavy kick on Zion's side.
Zion's body skidded across the sand, his breath knocked out of him.
He coughed, gripping his ribs, but his eyes never left Vren.
"Is this really a combat Exam and not a duel?" a voice echoed in disbelief.
"Stubborn one, huh?" Vren's grin didn't fade.
He strode toward Zion slowly, his presence looming larger with each step.
"I'll give you credit for guts, but guts alone won't win this."
Zion's fingers dug into the sand as he forced himself to his feet. His breathing was heavy, his arms sore, but his eyes were filled with fire.
Images of Myr's face flashed in his mind.
"I'm… not done!" he snarled.
His body moved before he even realized it. He dashed forward, his steps light, his eyes locked on Vren's every shift.
Vren's grin faltered for a moment. Zion's speed had changed—his movements were sharper, more refined.
Their weapons clashed again, but this time, Zion's attacks came in quick succession.
*Clack! Clack! Clack!*
Each strike came faster than the last.
Zion's arms burned, but he didn't stop. He pushed his limits, pouring every ounce of willpower into his assault.
'Not bad,' Vren muttered, blocking each blow with ease, his eyes tracking Zion's movements. "But you're still too predictable!"
He spun his sword in a wide arc, knocking Zion's dagger to the side.
Zion's balance wavered, his eyes darting in search of an opening.
"End of the line, kid," Vren said, his sword raised high. He brought it down with force.