After leaving the inn, Aeren began walking again toward the capital.
A week passed before he reached a small city. Guards stood watch at the gate, stopping each traveler and asking for identification.
Aeren queued in line, and hours later finally reached the front.
He handed over his only proof of identity — a paper from the inn stating he had worked as a waiter.
The guards gave him a suspicious glance but let him through.
Inside, the city shimmered with life. Laughter filled the streets, stalls bustled with trade, and bright lights made it feel like stars had fallen to the ground.
But after hours of wandering, Aeren couldn't find a place to stay.
He sat down at a street corner and began begging.
For six days, he received nothing — not even a single coin.
On the seventh day, a young noble lady passed by and, without a word, placed a gold coin in his palm.
Aeren thanked her; she simply waved her hand and walked away.
With that coin, he searched again for work and spotted a small building with the sign Star Guild at the top.
From the outside, it looked more like a modest inn than a guild hall. Inside, adventurers milled about, chatting or checking the job boards.
Aeren found a board with "Interview" written on it and followed the signs.
Several people sat waiting in line. As soon as they saw him, some covered their noses.
He looked like a beggar who had eaten from garbage bins.
One man even shouted, "You f*cking beggar, get lost! This isn't a place to beg for work!"
Aeren ignored him and quietly took an empty seat.
Seeing this, a few candidates lost interest in competing with someone they thought had no chance, and two or three left.
After hours of waiting, Aeren's turn came.
He entered the room, and the woman behind the desk wrinkled her nose at the smell.
"Didn't I write that we needed an educated person, not a beggar?" she asked coldly.
"I'm educated," Aeren replied politely.
She studied him for a moment before saying, "Fine. Sit."
Her first question was direct. "How will you handle it if someone comes in angry at you?"
"I'll ask them politely about the problem, try to solve it quickly, and if I can't, I'll call my superior for help," Aeren said.
She nodded, unimpressed but listening. "What would you do if someone attacked you without reason?"
"I'd just get beaten and wait for help," he answered calmly.
Her brows furrowed. "And what if no one came?"
"Nothing. I might be beaten to death," Aeren said flatly.
She stared at him, momentarily taken aback. From his appearance, she guessed he'd already been beaten many times before.
Still… he was educated. And she couldn't think of another candidate that fit the role better in terms of communication skills.
Finally, she said, "Welcome to Star Guild. My name is Selvara Veylen, B-Rank adventurer and guild master of this branch."
And just like that, Aeren had found another job.
Aeren began his job as the receptionist, seated behind the counter as a line of adventurers formed in front of him. Patiently, he recorded each person's name, rank, and role. He worked tirelessly from morning until night, and when the day ended, he trained with his knife in the quiet darkness.
The next day brought new challenges. Adventurers came with complaints, requests, and questions. Aeren answered each one calmly, solving what he could, and directing the rest toward the proper channels.
But peace never lasted long.
The guild doors slammed open, and a man barged in, walking straight to the counter. "I want to meet the guild master. Call her," he demanded.
Aeren checked the schedule and saw that Selvara was in a meeting. He began politely, "She's bus—" but before he could finish, the man's fist crashed into his face.
"Did I ask if she was available?" the man snarled. "I told you to call her." He struck Aeren again and again, tossing him like a rag doll.
Before the next blow could land, someone intercepted. A strong kick sent the man flying into the wall.
The newcomer was young—perhaps fifteen—with handsome features, a confident smile, and a natural, positive aura. He reached down and offered Aeren a hand. "Are you alright?"
Aeren took it, stood up, and muttered, "Thanks."
"Good to know you're okay," the boy replied. Then, more seriously, "Where can I find Selvara?"
"She's busy right now and not available for today," Aeren said firmly.
"It's urgent," the boy insisted. "If I wait until tomorrow, things will become a mess."
Whispers rippled through the hall:
"Isn't that the one who wiped out an entire ogre village alone?"
"Some say he's of royal blood, traveling as a commoner."
"I heard he fought an S-rank adventurer and ended in a draw."
Aeren ignored them. "You need an appointment to meet her," he said again. "Otherwise, you'll have to leave."
The boy's eyes narrowed. Without another word, he strode past Aeren into Selvara's office.
The moment she saw him, Selvara's expression brightened. She canceled all her appointments for the day and spent hours in private conversation with him.
When he left, Selvara summoned Aeren.
"Why did you stop him?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"You had a meeting with someone else," Aeren answered quietly. "So I—"
"Do you even know who he was?" Selvara cut him off, her tone rising. "If it weren't for people like him, you wouldn't even be alive. His position is beyond anything you can imagine. This is your first mistake, so I'll let it go. But there won't be a next time. Get out."
Aeren bowed his head and left without a word.
The months passed. Six months, to be exact. Under Selvara's leadership—and with Aeren's steady, tireless work—the Star Guild became the most respected in the city.
Then, the sky turned black.
A monster horde descended without warning. The city erupted into chaos—people screaming, buildings burning. Adventurers fought desperately to protect the citizens, the Star Guild rescuing more people than any other.
But destruction was inevitable.
Aeren stood in the streets, watching with cold, detached eyes as monsters tore through everything. One creature locked eyes with him… and turned away.
By the end, nothing remained but shattered walls and ash. Days later, as survivors searched through the rubble, a hand emerged from the dirt.
"Someone survived!" a rescuer cried.
They pulled Aeren free, carried him to a camp, and healed his wounds. Once he had recovered enough to walk, he left without a word—resuming his lonely journey toward the capital.