The healers rushed toward Eamon as soon as the flames died down. One of them knelt beside him and checked his pulse. Another gently lifted his bruised hand.
"He's conscious," one of the healers said, surprised.
Eamon blinked and gave a weak nod. His hair was soaked in sweat. Dirt and blood were smeared across his face.
"Don't move," the healer said. "You've taken a lot of damage. Let us help."
They carefully lifted him onto a stretcher. As they carried him out of the ruined chamber, the full extent of the destruction became clear. The once polished floor was cracked. Huge stones from the ceiling lay scattered. Parts of the walls had collapsed. Water still steamed off the broken floor where Thandor's spell had struck.
Eamon winced as the sunlight from outside hit his face.
A few minutes later, all five candidates were asked to gather in the main room. The one they had sat in earlier, before their trial began.
The room was quieter now, but the tension hadn't vanished. The four remaining candidates were sitting on wooden benches, each wrapped in bandages. Kayt had a cut on her cheek. Mikel had his arm in a sling. Roneth looked calm, but there was a deep gash along his side that had been stitched up.
Eamon sat beside them. His bruised shoulder had been covered in a healing salve. His left arm was wrapped tightly. He moved slowly, each breath a reminder of the earlier clash.
There were whispers among them, but no one really spoke much. They were waiting. Nervous. Curious.
Soon the manager stepped onto the stage that had been set up in front of the room. Thandor walked beside him. His armor was dented in places, and his cloak looked torn. Yet he stood tall, completely composed. Behind them stood a group of staff members from the dungeon office. Their expressions were serious.
More people began entering the room.
Some were from the town—shopkeepers, elders, even a few children trying to peek inside. There were guards from the local patrol standing at the entrance. A few men in silver armor entered shortly after—soldiers from the royal army. They were here to investigate the earlier reports about a vampire, but now their attention was fixed on the adventurer trials.
All of them had heard the explosion.
They had seen the smoke.
They had heard stories from the staff running around saying something massive had happened in the chamber.
Now everyone wanted to see what caused it.
The manager raised his hand to quiet the room. The murmurs faded.
He looked at the candidates.
"We will begin with the first announcement," he said, his voice loud and clear.
He looked toward the bench on the side where a boy with short brown hair sat alone.
"Rian," the manager said. "You did not survive till the deadline. As per the rules of the exam, you are not selected."
Rian looked stunned for a moment. His mouth opened slightly, but he said nothing. He stood up, bowed his head, and walked toward the exit in silence. His footsteps echoed across the quiet hall. No one said anything until the door closed behind him.
The manager waited for a moment, then turned back to the rest.
"As for the remaining four of you," he said, "You have all passed your trials. You are now officially adventurers."
There was a pause.
Then the room erupted in soft cheers. Kayt gave a small fist pump. Mikel looked relieved and let out a laugh. Roneth simply nodded. Eamon allowed himself a smile.
Thandor stepped forward.
"You four did a great job," he said. "You should be proud of what you achieved today. Congratulations."
His voice was warm and honest.
The cheers in the room grew louder. The townspeople clapped. Some even whistled.
The manager stepped forward again.
"Now comes the rank announcement."
The room fell silent once more.
Everyone leaned in.
"Mikel," the manager said. "Rank 5."
Mikel nodded. He seemed okay with it.
"Kayt," the manager said. "Rank 5."
Kayt shrugged. "Expected," she muttered.
"Roneth," the manager said. "Rank 3."
A few gasps rose in the crowd.
Rank 3 was already considered impressive.
Roneth didn't react much. He sat calmly, like he knew it was coming.
The manager then looked at Eamon.
"And Eamon," he said, "Rank 2."
The room went completely silent.
Not a single breath.
Then whispers started.
Someone dropped a glass.
People stared at each other.
One of the royal soldiers actually stepped forward as if he hadn't heard correctly.
A candidate getting rank 3 was already rare.
But a candidate getting rank 2?
That just never happened.
Not at the trial stage.
Eamon sat frozen. His eyes were wide. His mouth opened, then closed. He couldn't speak.
He had expected something… maybe rank 4 or 3 if they were being generous.
But this?
His thoughts were spinning.
He realized he had overdone it.
But he also knew he had no choice. Thandor's spell was too strong. If he hadn't countered it with something powerful, he would've failed.
Still, this was bad.
Very bad.
Eamon's thoughts
Dammit. Rank 2 is going to draw a lot more attention now. What do I do? I didn't want this. I just wanted to pass. Now people will watch me. People will expect more from me. Some will want to use me. Others might want to test me. This… this is going to change everything.
Before he could think more, Thandor approached him.
He placed a firm hand on Eamon's shoulder.
"You did well, Eamon," he said. "I expect great things from you."
Eamon looked up. He didn't know what to say.
Thandor smiled.
"Outside, many members of various guilds will be waiting to recruit you. Make a choice. And I hope you land in my guild."
He gave a hearty laugh and turned around.
The room clapped again.
People walked up to Eamon and shook his hand.
Kayt gave him a soft punch on the shoulder.
"Rank 2?" she said, half-laughing. "Who even are you?"
Mikel smiled and said, "Remind me never to spar with you."
Roneth nodded. "You earned it."
Eamon smiled awkwardly and stood up.
He slowly walked out of the hall.
As soon as he stepped outside, he was surrounded.
Guild members, dressed in coats and robes of different colors, rushed to him.
"Join the Iron Blades!"
"No, the Shadow Guild needs talent like you!"
"You'll be a captain within a year if you come to us!"
They thrust pamphlets and cards into his hands. Some even shoved small boxes of gifts.
He nodded politely. Smiled where he could.
Then slipped through a narrow alley and bolted.
He had to get away.
He clutched the handful of papers tightly and made his way through back lanes and shortcuts.
The whole town seemed to be buzzing.
People were talking.
A rookie adventurer had been given rank 2.
He finally reached the motel.
Algor's Motel.
The building stood quiet and calm.
He opened the door and entered.
No one was in the lobby.
He quickly walked up the stairs and opened his room.
"Skarn!" he called.
A loud bark echoed in the room.
The little white-furred pup jumped from the bed and straight into Eamon's arms.
"Easy, easy," Eamon laughed as the dog licked his face. "That tickles."
He sat down on the bed. Skarn curled on his lap.
"I passed," Eamon whispered. "It was close. But I did it. I used a tier 3 spell. First time ever. And it worked."
Skarn tilted his head.
Eamon smiled. "Yeah. I got rank 2. Can you believe it?"
Skarn raised his paw and patted Eamon's hand.
That was his way of saying everything would be alright.
"Yes," Eamon said softly. "We'll work it out together. Now come on. Let's eat something."
"Woof woof," Skarn barked.
They walked downstairs.
At the diner, Eamon sat at a corner table with Skarn beside him.
The smell of warm food filled the air.
Algor, the owner, walked over.
"Hello there," he said. "And congratulations on your achievement. I couldn't believe it when I heard. Rank 2! That's so rare!"
"Thank you, sir," Eamon said. "I… didn't expect it either."
"You've made this place proud," Algor said. "Many people came asking about you. But I didn't let them bother you. I figured you must be exhausted."
"Oh, thank you so much, sir," Eamon replied, clearly relieved. "I really am tired. And hungry. Could you bring some porridge for me? And some meat for my little friend here?"
"Of course," Algor said with a nod. "Coming right up."
A few minutes later, Helena, Algor's daughter, came and sat across from Eamon.
She smiled.
"Congratulations," she said. "I didn't know you were this strong."
"Thanks," Eamon said. "I know rank 2 is a big deal. But is it really that rare? People looked like they saw a ghost."
Helena leaned forward.
"Of course, it's rare," she said. "Among all the adventurers, most are ranked between 3 to 5. Rank 2 and 1 are very rare. And getting rank 2 in the trial exam? That just doesn't happen. Maybe once or twice in a hundred years. And that too, not just in Aldoria… across all the kingdoms."
Eamon stared at her.
"You've done something almost impossible," Helena added. "So obviously people are shocked."
Eamon didn't answer.
He looked down at his food.
He poked the porridge with a spoon.
He thought about the explosion. The dragon made of flames. The cheers. The people crowding around him.
He whispered to himself, barely audible.
"I messed up real bad."