Evening light dimmed as the merchant lodging's post lamps began to glow brighter. Breeze rustled through Vel's uniform as he sat on the stone bench, the encounter at the library playing through his mind on repeat—the ancient text, the hidden sigils, the vision of seven primodials staring back at him.
He closed his eyes, allowing his interface to manifest before him. Something felt different. The familiar panels and windows had changed, evolved somehow.
"Slow Heal" he whispered.
The magic circle for the healing spell materialized in his mind's eye—but unlike before, additional information now floated alongside each component. The sigils were the same, but now annotations hovered beside them, displaying function-like notations he hadn't seen before:
Vel's eyes widened as annotations appeared beside each sigil:
"_mending()"
"_restoration()"
"_cellular_integrity()"
Function calls. This wasn't abstract magic.
The healing spell wasn't restoring arbitrary "health points." It was accessing DNA templates, rebuilding damaged tissue cell by cell. His breath caught as the limitation became clear—death meant pattern breakdown. No template, no resurrection.
"No wonder it never worked on the deceased," he murmured.
His hands trembled as he pulled up Ice Lance. More annotations appeared: thermal dynamics, crystallization physics, projectile calculations. Every spell now revealed its scientific foundation.
This was what happened when you created something and set it free in the world. It grew. It changed. It became more than its creator intended.
Back then, he'd simply programmed healing to not revive the dead for balance purposes. Resurrection was only possible through cash shop items—a monetization scheme pushed by SolarTech's marketing team.
Vel's thoughts were cut short as Celia's voice rang out across the yard.
"Where have you been all day?"
Celia dropped down next to him on the stone bench, her uniform wrinkled from her classes. Her hair was slightly disheveled, suggesting she'd been training.
"I was in the academy's library," Vel replied, closing his interface with a mental command.
"Why am I not surprised? You're such a bookworm sometimes," she teased, nudging his shoulder.
Vel gave her a sidelong glance. "Coming from someone who almost failed the knowledge test."
"But I didn't," she shot back with a proud tilt of her chin.
"Yeah, yeah." Vel smiled despite himself.
The evening air cooled around them as other students filtered through the yard, heading to their lodgings after a long day of classes. A few glanced their way—some curious, others dismissive of the unstable attunement student and his duelist friend.
Celia stretched her arms above her head. "Tomorrow is weekend. Do you have any plans?" she asked.
Vel considered Celia's question. He hadn't thought much about the weekend yet, his mind still processing the revelations from the library.
"No plans yet," he admitted. "Could be anything really—more research, practice some spells, or just relax for once."
Celia's eyes lit up. "How about the Adventurer's Guild?"
"Where did that come from?" Vel asked, turning to face her fully.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression growing more serious. "I've been thinking about looking for a part-time job. The Guild seems like a good place to start."
The idea resonated with Vel. Despite their scholarship support, personal expenses added up quickly. Books, specialty materials, replacement uniforms—not to mention Hileya's wages and accommodations. He'd been carrying similar thoughts in the back of his mind but hadn't acted on them.
"You're right," he nodded. "We do need some sort of income instead of relying completely on the scholarship."
Celia smiled, pleased that he agreed. "Besides, we could take on some basic tasks together. Nothing dangerous—just small errands around the city that pay a bit."
"Sounds like a good idea," Vel said, warming to the concept. "It would give us more chances to explore Lona, too. There's so much of the city we haven't seen yet."
"Let's do it tomorrow morning," Celia suggested, standing up from the bench with renewed energy. "We can check what kind of work they offer to Academy students."
Vel watched as Celia headed toward the west wing, her silhouette disappearing into the evening shadows.
"Come to the common room later for dinner," Vel called after her. "Hileya must be waiting."
Celia turned back briefly. "I'll see you after cleaning myself up."
They split up, each returning to their respective quarters.
Back in his room, Vel collapsed onto the edge of his bed, the revelations still racing.
"At this rate, I'll burn out before I even graduate," he muttered, running his hands through his hair.
Understanding the function calls was one thing, but what if he could write his own? A simple get(target.properties) could be the key to the Appraisal spell he'd been chasing. The thought was tantalizing.
He let his head fall back, the idea spiraling further. If he could read the system, could he call its deepest functions? Something like system.time.deltaTime—which could theoretically allow him to manipulate time itself?
No. Vel sighed, the excitement deflating. This world had evolved, developing its own balances and countermeasures. He knew, instinctively, that the system would protect itself. The mana cost for such a command would be astronomical, an unbreakable safeguard against anyone, even its creator, trying to rewrite reality.
The next morning came with unexpected rain.
Vel sat beside Celia on the covered steps of the lodging, both of them watching sheets of water cascade into the courtyard. He had woken early, excited about their Guild visit, only to find Lona drenched in the sudden storm.
Droplets splashed into rapidly forming puddles. Their enthusiasm from yesterday had dampened considerably.
"It had to be weekend," Celia said, looking toward the blurry scene of rain, her chin resting on her palm.
Vel nodded, equally disappointed. The weather had eliminated any chance of visiting the Guild without getting soaked to the bone. He'd considered using magic to shield them, but the downpour would drain his mana before they made it halfway—and he'd need his strength if they found work at the Guild.
"Let's hope it will end soon," he sighed. "How's class treating you lately?"
Celia straightened up slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "My class seems to focus on combat training, nothing I can't handle, but..."
Her voice trailed off as her expression hardened.
"It's Fairwind—"
"Lysithea's been giving you trouble in class?" Vel guessed.
Celia nodded, jaw tight. "She's been holding grudges after that incident."
"What's she doing?" Vel asked, feeling a protective anger rise in his chest.
"Intentional sabotage during class and training," Celia explained, her fingers curling into fists on her lap. "Yesterday she 'accidentally' bumped into me during practice and nearly made me impale myself on my own rapier."
Vel's eyes widened. That went beyond petty rivalry into dangerous territory.
"I want to give her another lesson," Celia continued, her voice low and intense, "but that would just worsen the situation for me."
"You're right," Vel agreed reluctantly. "The Academy probably wouldn't look kindly on a second confrontation."
Vel frowned, tapping his fingers against his knee. This situation with Lysithea was more complicated than facing a behemoth. At least monsters could be defeated directly with spells and swords.
"Fighting monsters is straightforward," he muttered. "Politics and social sabotage are messier."
His own confrontation with Thornwood hadn't exactly been wise either. Though the duel was stopped when Thornwood's spell grew dangerously powerful, forcing both Lyvenna and Hust to intervene. That gave it a legitimacy the Academy couldn't ignore.
"What I did with Thornwood wasn't exactly better," Vel admitted. "But at least it was a formal challenge with witnesses and rules."
Celia shot him a look. "Are you saying I should challenge her to a duel?"
"No, that's not..." Vel shook his head. "Backstabbing and 'accidents' are more dangerous than direct confrontation. You can't just endure this for years."
The rain continued its steady patter against the cobblestones, matching the rhythm of Vel's thoughts as he considered their options.
"We need evidence," he finally said. "If she's deliberately sabotaging you during class, we need someone to witness it. Someone the instructors would believe."
"Who would that be?" Celia asked, skepticism clear in her voice.
"I'm not sure yet," Vel admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But there has to be a way to expose her behavior without making you look like the aggressor."
He paused, considering another angle. "Or we could try something else. What if you had protection? Not just me, but allies in your class who would watch your back?"
Celia's expression softened slightly. "I've made a few acquaintances, but I don't know if they'd stand against Lysithea."
"Then maybe we need leverage," Vel suggested hesitantly. "Something that would make her think twice about targeting you. Though I'm not sure what that would be against someone with family connections."
Vel let out a long sigh, leaning back against the step behind him. He could mention Landre's status as a Saint, but dragging his sister into Academy politics felt wrong. The rain continued to drum against the ground, creating a soothing rhythm that contrasted with his troubled thoughts.
"Academic life was supposed to be simple," he muttered, watching a particularly large droplet splash into a puddle. "The challenge should be in the lessons, not from our classmates."
He'd prepared for academic challenges, not navigating noble politics and rivalries.
As Vel watched the rain, he could almost feel a subtle gaze from Celia at his side, but he didn't look.
"You sigh a lot lately, you know," Celia said softly. "Look like an old sage sometimes."
Vel scoffed. "I had the exact same thought last—"
Then suddenly, Celia rested her head on Vel's shoulder.
His body tensed immediately, heartbeat quickening at the unexpected contact. The weight of her head felt impossibly heavy despite its actual lightness.
"W-what are you doing…" he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I'm still sleepy," Celia murmured, her voice soft. "Yesterday's training was tiresome. This rain isn't helping either."
Her dark hair brushed against his neck, and Vel remained frozen, unsure how to respond. While their relationship was comfortable after years of training together, he never expected Celia to do this. They had sparred, studied, and faced dangers together, but this casual intimacy was new territory.
Vel turned his head slightly, the strangely soothing scent of her hair instantly recognizable. A mixture of lavender soap and something uniquely Celia that he'd come to associate with their training sessions together. His pulse gradually steadied as he rationalized the situation.
Maybe she's just feeling lonely and needs a shoulder to lean on, he thought. The Academy had been challenging for both of them, but Celia bore additional burdens—orphanage life, noble prejudice, and now Lysithea's targeted harassment. She was facing the whole world alone out here with no one to back her up. Unlike him, she didn't have family to visit or write to. He needed to be there for her when she needed him.
Vel turned back to the rain, watching rivulets race down the stone steps before them. The steady drumming created a peaceful backdrop that somehow made their shared silence comfortable rather than awkward.
"I'm sorry that I've been a bit busy with class and my research," he said quietly, feeling a twinge of guilt. He hadn't spent as much time with Celia as before.
Celia didn't lift her head from his shoulder. "It's fine. We both have our own paths now."
Her words carried a hint of resignation that made Vel wonder if she truly felt that way or was simply stating what she thought was inevitable.
"Still, we promised to face the Academy together," he reminded her, finding it easier to speak while watching the rain rather than looking at her. "I shouldn't get so caught up in my research that I forget that."
"You can't expect to do everything for everyone, Vel," Celia murmured, her voice carrying a gentle reproach.
Vel's shoulders tensed, then relaxed as he considered her words. She was right, of course. Between classes, research, training Hileya, and his own magical experiments, he was stretching himself thin. But the thought of Celia facing Lysithea's sabotage alone unsettled him.
"True, but at least I need to do something for someone that I care about," he replied softly.
The words slipped out different than Vel intended—more earnest, more revealing than he'd planned. He felt Celia stiffen slightly against his shoulder.
When he glanced down, a soft blush had crept across her cheeks, partially hidden under the curtain of her long dark hair. Her eyes remained fixed on the rain-soaked courtyard, but the color in her face told him she'd caught the sentiment behind his words.
After a moment of silence that stretched between them like a delicate thread, Celia lifted her head from his shoulder. The sudden absence of her warmth left Vel feeling oddly bereft.
She straightened her back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression contemplative as she watched the sheets of rain.
"Do you think my sister is still out there?" she asked suddenly, her voice quiet but steady.
Vel stared into the rain, Celia's question about Clara hanging between them. The droplets seemed to slow in his perception as his mind raced through years of accumulated knowledge about portals.
"It's been years," he said finally. "But I still believe she's out there."
Most had given up hope, considering her another casualty of the dangers adventurers faced daily. But Vel knew better. The portals he'd designed could lead to realms with different time dilations. Clara could be alive.
But the portal that took her was unstable. It would never open twice.
Unstable.
The word snagged in his mind, suddenly connecting two disparate ideas. Unstable portals. Unstable attunement. His research into the chaos element flooded his thoughts. Could it be the key to both?
Celia watched him, her eyes reflecting a mix of hope and resignation. She'd carried this weight for so long, the question of her sister's fate a hollow echo in the quiet moments of her life.
"I believe she's alive, Celia. And someday, she'll find her way back—or we'll find a way to reach her."
His promise wasn't empty sentiment. It was based on his understanding of the world's systems—knowledge he couldn't fully explain to Celia without revealing truths about himself he wasn't ready to share.
"Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "Most people stopped talking about her years ago, like she never existed."
"Well, I'm not most people," Vel replied with a small smile. "And I intend to keep my promise."
As Vel finished his promise, the steady downpour began to ease. A few rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, catching on the wet stones of the courtyard. The raindrops that remained on the lodging's surfaces reflected the light like countless tiny mirrors.
"Look," Celia said, pointing upward. "It's like even the weather agrees with you."
Vel smiled at the coincidence. The dampness remained in the air, but the oppressive weight of the rain had lifted. Celia stretched beside him, no longer tense from their earlier conversation.
An hour later, they stood before the Adventurer's Guild. The Lona branch was a fortress of granite, its massive iron gate pulled high to reveal an entrance that dwarfed them both.
"That's... bigger than I expected," Vel said, recalling the old design from when this was just a game.
Passing through the gate, they entered a bustling courtyard. Guild banners lined the walls while adventurers gathered on balconies overhead, their conversations drifting down.
As they followed the main paved path, the sheer scale of the Guild's growth became apparent. Adventurers in all manner of gear bustled about, some giving the two Academy students curious glances. The complex had even absorbed a nearby inn, its tavern sign now hanging beneath the official Guild emblem—a practical partnership for a place teeming with travelers.
Snippets of conversation drifted toward them from passing adventurers as they moved deeper into the complex.
"I'd rather take that quest in the Symalas River than go into the portal," a rugged man in leather armor said to his companion. "The guild can no longer guarantee our safety these days."
"I heard Xania's party nearly lost a member," his companion replied with a grimace. "That is, if he'll ever wake up at all."
The conversation struck an eerie chord with Vel. His thoughts immediately traveled back to Clara. How many others had been lost or left in similar conditions?
He glanced at Celia, whose expression had hardened. She'd heard them too.
They continued forward, crossing under a sky bridge that connected the east and west sections of the complex. The bridge cast cool shadows over them, offering momentary relief from the sun that had emerged after the rain.
From above, fragments of another conversation floated down.
"Alchemist guild and merchant guild seem to offer more stable jobs these days," a younger voice said, tinged with uncertainty.
"Suit yourself," another man cut in harshly. "I didn't expect more from a bronze rank. This line of work isn't for a jumpy scout like you."
Vel and Celia finally reached the main building door. The massive oak panels were reinforced with iron bands, and the handles were worn smooth from countless hands pushing them open in search of fortune, adventure, or simply the next job.
Stepping inside, they were greeted by cool shade and the mixed scents of leather and weapon oil. The clatter of armored boots echoed off the polished marble floors and stone arches, where more adventurers gathered on upper balconies, observing the bustle below.
One of the receptionists' voices carried through the hall. "Please, next time use the east door to hand in monster's materials. This area is for personnel process only."
As they walked toward the reception area, Vel noticed how organized everything was. Wooden benches and tables created orderly waiting areas, while three reception desks handled different queues with clear purpose.
Celia took charge without hesitation. "This way," she said, gesturing toward one of the lines. "We need to join the general inquiry line."
Vel felt many adventurers' stares as they walked. They were clearly too young to be here on their own, and their Academy uniforms did nothing to help them blend in. Every step they took seemed to draw more attention, some curious, others dismissive.
They joined the general inquiry line, and Vel glanced around while they waited. In the line next to them, which appeared to be specifically for registered adventurers, stood a person in full plate armor and helmet. Vel couldn't tell their gender beneath all that metal.
When they reached the front, Vel stood behind Celia as she approached the receptionist. Her name tag read "Mori," and something about her eastern features seemed familiar, though he couldn't place why.
"How may I help you?" Mori asked, her tone professional but not unfriendly.
"We're looking for part-time job, 'minor requests' to be exact," Celia replied confidently, taking the lead as Vel had expected she would.
Mori's eyes flicked between them, taking in their Academy uniforms. "Have you ever registered with the guild before?"
"No, this is our first time here but…we have Graham's recommendation," Celia said, producing a small paper card from her pocket.
Vel's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. The card wasn't the usual parchment found around Lona, but something more rigid and official-looking—similar to a business card from his old world. She must have received it from Graham after training under him in Elnor. Vel wasn't sure what the card meant, but Celia's confident handling of it suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.
Mori examined the card with newfound interest, her demeanor shifting subtly. She nodded after reading it and handed it back to Celia.
"Let me log your names first," Mori said, reaching for a ledger beneath her desk. After noting their information, she pointed toward the far side of the hall. "Then you can check the bulletin boards over there, where minor requests from the locals are posted."
They walked toward the bulletin area, passing massive central boards where veteran adventurers clustered around posted notices. Above them, the high sunlit ceiling cast natural light across the hall. To his right, arched corridors led deeper into the complex while warm laughter spilled from what was clearly the tavern wing.
As they approached, Vel could see the boards were clearly separated—the large central ones dominated by veteran adventurers, and a smaller board tucked away in the corner, designated for simpler tasks. Even from here, the notices on the smaller board were written on different colored papers, likely indicating varying levels of difficulty or payment.
At the corner board, Vel noticed a group of mercenaries—three men in worn leather armor with basic swords at their hips—already gathered around it, pointing at various notices.
"Can't believe this is what we're reduced to," one of them grumbled, a thick-necked man with a scar running across his jawline.
"You'd rather face the portals?" his companion replied. "I'll take trimming hedges over that any day."
Vel's eyes widened as he scanned the colored papers pinned to the board. These weren't the quests he'd expected at all. There wasn't a single monster hunt, dungeon exploration, or artifact retrieval among them.
WOODCARVER NEEDED
Timbermage or Arcanpenter required for decorative statue carving. Shop opening ceremony in 3 days. Fine detail work essential.
Payment: 2 silver
GUARDIAN SERVICES
Babysitter needed for twin boys (6 years) during merchant guild meeting. Protective ward knowledge preferred. 4 hours maximum.
Payment: 1 silver, meal included
GARDEN MAINTENANCE
Air-attuned worker needed for precision hedge trimming and garden upkeep. Northern district residence. Weekly arrangement available.
Payment: 3 copper per visit
"What is this?" he whispered to Celia. "Odd jobs? I thought the Guild was for, you know... adventuring."
The mercenaries nearby overheard him and chuckled.
"First time, kid?" the scarred one asked. "Welcome to the real world. Not every day is slaying giant spider."
"Especially these days," another added, his voice lower. "With more portals appearing, the real quests go to the big names—teams known across the provinces. The high-ranking ones get first pick of everything dangerous and profitable. The rest of us make do with whatever scraps are left."
Celia seemed equally surprised but recovered more quickly than Vel. She began examining the notices more carefully, occasionally pulling one closer to read the details.
"I guess this makes sense," she whispered. "We're Academy students, not registered adventurers. We can't exactly expect them to send us on dangerous missions."
Vel nodded slowly, still processing this reality check. Of course—with established teams claiming all the dangerous, high-paying work, newcomers like them were left competing for these smaller magical commissions. He'd been thinking like a player, not someone who actually lived here and had to start at the bottom.
Among the notices, one particular posting caught Vel's eye, standing out from all the mundane requests:
BASEMENT CLEANING
Slimes detected in basement storage area. Experienced cleaner needed immediately. Bring own protective gear.
Payment: 5 silver
Vel stared at it, his brow furrowing. Did they mean actual monster slimes, or just some kind of mold or grime? His mind immediately went to the gelatinous creatures with their mindless bobbing movements.
"I specifically said no slimes," he muttered under his breath, forgetting himself for a moment.
"What was that?" Celia leaned closer.
Vel shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. "Can't believe it. Don't tell me they've actually manifested in this world."
"You sound like you have a personal grudge against slimes," Celia remarked with amusement, eyeing him curiously.
Vel crossed his arms, almost pouting. "I mean, they don't even make sense as creatures. A blob without true body parts, yet they move like living things. And where would all their thoughts go?" He gestured vaguely with his hands. "No brain, no organs, just... goo."
"You're thinking too much about this," Celia said, tapping the notice with her finger. "Five silver is a good payment for basement cleaning. Even if it is slimes."
Vel glanced at the notice again. Five silver was indeed better than most other odd jobs on the board. But still...
Slimes!
Shizuka's voice suddenly echoed in his memory. "What about slimes for starter monsters? They're classic!"
"Anything but slimes," he'd groaned back then. "Can't we try something new? They're just... boring blobs that exist because every other game has them. First encounters should be engaging, teach players what they actually need to know. Players should realize that any encounter could go wrong if they don't pay attention."
And yet here they were, as if the world had decided to spite him personally.
One of the mercenaries, a lanky man with a patchy beard and yellowed teeth, leaned closer to them, having overheard their conversation.
"Careful there, lads. Those slimes ain't just regular muck," he said with a knowing grin. "They can even eat your clothes. I've lost me boots to them once." His eyes lingered uncomfortably on Celia, particularly her Academy uniform. "Specifically something to consider for this young lady here."
Vel tensed immediately, feeling a surge of protective anger. But before he could say anything, Celia's face hardened into a dangerous sneer that could have frozen fire. She stared directly into the man's eyes, one hand subtly shifting to rest on her rapier's hilt.
The mercenary's companions nudged him with their elbows. "She got you there, Dorman," one muttered. "Let's go before you say something that gets us banned from another tavern."
The three men wandered off, though Dorman cast one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner.
Vel looked at Celia with newfound appreciation. She'd always been capable, but there was something different about her confidence now—sharper, more assured than even during their training sessions.
"But this quest pays better than the rest," Celia said, returning her attention to the slime notice after the men had gone. "It's a waste not taking it, and we just need to be more careful."
Vel sighed, knowing she was right. Five silver wasn't a small amount, especially when they were just starting out.
"After what that guy said, I'd rather not do this alone," Celia added, her expression softening slightly as she looked at Vel.
"Alright, we'll take the quest," Vel decided with a resigned nod. "I can already think of a few spells that could help. We could freeze them and shatter them—that would reduce the chance of us losing our fabric."
His mind was already working through the spell modifications needed. Ice Lance would be too forceful and might splash the slime residue everywhere. Perhaps Conjure Ice-Step could be adapted to freeze the slimes in place.
Celia's face lit up with a grin. She linked her arm with his, pulling him closer. "You're the best! How about we split it three-two—three for me."
"Wha—?" Vel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Because I got Graham's recommendation," she explained, gesturing to the card she'd shown earlier. "And you already got your personal maid and all that private quarters."
Vel opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. She wasn't wrong. Lady Halen's sponsorship had given him considerably more comfort than Celia enjoyed in the dormitories.
"Fine, you win," he conceded with a small smile.
They returned to Mori's desk, who looked up from her ledger with a polite smile. "Have you found something suitable?"
"Yes," Celia said, handing over the slime notice. "We'd like to take this one."
Mori glanced at the paper, her expression shifting briefly as she recognized which job they'd chosen. She reached beneath her desk and pulled out a form, her pen moving in swift, practiced strokes as she filled in the details.
"Names... Velarian Novalance and Celia Freznoria..." she murmured as she wrote. "Academy students... first-time contractors..."
She handed them each a small slip of parchment. "These are your receipts. Once you've completed the job, have the client sign these and return them to the guild for payment."
Vel examined the slip, noting the official Guild seal stamped at the bottom in dark blue ink.
"The address is here," Mori continued, pointing to a line on the form. "Northern district, residence of Merchant Belwin."
She stamped their paperwork with quick, decisive movements, the thunk-thunk of the wooden handle punctuating their acceptance of their first "quest."
Vel couldn't help but marvel at the strange turn his life had taken. Not quite the heroic adventure he might have imagined.