Lyra woke before dawn, the excitement in her chest thrumming louder than any alarm. Today wasn't just another day — it was the day she officially began her journey as a real adventurer. She practically leapt from her bed, the morning chill nipping at her skin. The air smelled faintly of baked bread drifting up from the inn's kitchen.
Finally… today's the day. No more just watching from the sidelines, no more pretending to be just another traveler. I'll step into the guild as an adventurer — my own name, my own path.
Her lips curved under the mask she had yet to wear.
She bathed quickly, the cool water snapping her fully awake.
What will my first quest be? A monster hunt? Escort work? Anything will do — as long as I can prove to everyone — and to myself — that I truly belong out there, standing among real adventurers.
Her mind buzzed with plans, expectations, and a hundred little scenarios of triumph. By the time she dressed in her traveling clothes and adjusted her cloak, her reflection in the mirror showed a poised, masked figure — one that looked more like a seasoned wanderer than a rookie.
Breakfast was a quick affair in the inn's cafeteria — fresh bread, cheese, and steaming tea.
The Valley feels one step closer now… every coin, every quest will be a brick in the road toward it.
The moment she finished, she stepped out into the still-quiet streets and hailed a carriage. The rhythmic clatter of hooves on cobblestone kept pace with her thoughts: prove myself, rise in rank, earn enough coin, and travel westward.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Adventurer's Guild was already buzzing by the time she arrived. She made her way to the quest hall — a broad chamber lined with glowing quest panels. Adventurers clustered in small groups, debating the merits of one quest over another.
Lyra approached a panel and scanned her card. A long list of quests filled the display, but she quickly noticed something odd — many were grayed out and locked. A small progress bar blinked in the corner of the screen.
Before she could ponder further, she turned to a nearby adventurer and asked,
"Excuse me, do you know why some of these quests are locked?"
The man blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"You… you're asking me?"
His gaze flicked over her cloak and mask.
"You look like someone who's been around for years."
Lyra tilted her head. "And yet, I'm not. So, can you tell me what's with the locks?"
"Alright, so here's the deal,"
The man began, leaning slightly toward her as though sharing some secret.
"Quests above your rank? Locked, unless they're just one rank higher. Anything beyond that is off-limits — means you're not ready, at least on paper."
Lyra crossed her arms. "On paper, huh? So how do I move that little bar in the corner?"
"That's your rank progress. Fill it up and you can move up. From Bronze to Iron, you either grind through a thousand Bronze quests, or tackle ten Iron quests instead. Same for the next ranks — though once you hit Steel and above, you've gotta take a promotion test too."
Lyra tilted her head. "Only ten higher-rank quests? Sounds too easy."
He chuckled. "That's so folks who are stronger than their current rank don't get stuck killing rats for a year. It's risky, sure, but the reward matches it."
She nodded slowly, considering his words. They spoke a while longer, Lyra pulling more details from him in quick questions, the man answering with easy camaraderie.
"We seniors have to guide the juniors," he finished with a grin.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lyra thanked him and turned back to the panel. Ten Iron quests — quick and efficient — would get her promoted. She knew from her observation that her real strength rested at the upper end of Steel rank, though she wasn't quite at Silver. She tapped the Iron section, skimming options until she found one that caught her interest: a beast extermination in a village forest.
At the counter, the receptionist's brow furrowed.
"This quest is dangerous for someone your age. Are you sure about this? You only have one life, you know, and we don't want to lose a young adventurer over a mere beast."
Lyra's tone was calm but firm. "Don't worry I'll be fine. Please confirm it."
"Okay, but be careful. If you think you can't handle it, don't hesitate to stop the quest," the receptionist said with visible reluctance, then processed the request.
"Thank you for your concern. I know my limits well enough," Lyra said, thanking the receptionist
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The village lay an hour away. Upon arrival, Lyra was greeted warmly but with visible tension in the villagers' faces.
An older man stepped forward. "You're the adventurer they sent?"
"Yes," Lyra replied, glancing around. "I heard there's a beast causing trouble. What exactly happened?"
A woman clutched her shawl tighter. "It's a massive wolf… bigger than any we've seen. It's been killing our livestock for weeks. Lately… it's getting bolder. We're afraid it'll come for us next."
Another villager added quickly, "We think it has cubs. If that's true, the attacks will only get worse."
Lyra's gaze sharpened. "When was the last time anyone saw it?"
"At the western edge of the forest, two nights ago," the older man answered. "Be careful. That thing's not just a normal wolf."
"I will," Lyra said simply, before turning toward the trees.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She moved swiftly through the trees, every step careful to muffle her presence. Branches swayed overhead as a low growl rolled through the forest air. When the beast finally came into view, her breath hitched — a wolf the size of a bear, muscles rippling beneath thick, bristling fur, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.
After seeing her, the wolf lunged first, a blur of white and gray. Lyra sidestepped, feeling the rush of air as massive jaws snapped shut where she had been a heartbeat before. Her blade flashed in a tight arc, striking along its flank. The beast yelped but recovered instantly, circling her with deliberate, measured steps. It darted in again, claws tearing at the soil, but Lyra dropped low, sliding beneath its strike before slashing upward into its chest. With a final snarl, the creature collapsed.
"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," Lyra commented on their battle.
She pushed inside a nearby cave, her grip on her sword tightening. Small whimpers echoed — cubs, barely the size of her forearm, eyes still clouded. Her heart tugged painfully, and she knelt briefly, whispering,
"I'm sorry for this, but I can't let you live for the safety of the village."
Her training reminded her what such predators would grow into. She hesitated only a moment before she killed them, then stepped back to the cave mouth, her mind calculating the next move.
The wolf she had slain was female. That meant the male was still out there. The distant, mournful howl she'd heard earlier now made sense — a call of warning, or a plea. She didn't have to wait long. The ground trembled under heavy paws as the male emerged from the shadows, fur bristling and fangs bared. It charged with terrifying speed. Steel met fur and fury; she deflected its bite, twisted away from a crushing swipe, and drove her blade deep between its ribs. The beast gave one last defiant growl before crumpling to the forest floor. Lyra exhaled slowly, whispering,
"Sorry for your suffering, but your fate was sealed the moment you attacked the village. Even if it wasn't me, another adventurer would have come to deal with you."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the village, several men followed her to confirm the kill. Their eyes widened at the sight of the fallen wolves.
"A girl did this?" one murmured in disbelief.
"Not just any girl," another said, shaking his head. "You moved like you'd done this a hundred times."
Lyra gave a small shrug. "I've had my share of experience."
An older woman stepped forward, clutching a basket. "Please, take this. It's not much, but it's from our hearts."
Lyra raised a hand. "I appreciate it, but I can't—"
"You can," the woman insisted. "This isn't guild payment. This is thanks from people whose children can sleep safely tonight."
A man added, "We'd be fools not to thank the one who saved us."
Lyra hesitated, then accepted the basket with a small nod. "Then… I'll gratefully accept."
Gratitude lingered in their eyes as they walked her back toward the road, speaking in hushed tones about the masked adventurer who had cleared their forest of danger.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time she returned to the guild, less than three hours had passed since she'd accepted the quest.
The receptionist blinked, clearly taken aback.
"You… already finished?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"This type of quest usually takes half a day at best."
Lyra simply set the quest item on the counter with a small smile. The woman counted out a handful of silver coins, still glancing at her in disbelief, before updating the board — the progress bar jumping by 10%.
A few nearby adventurers, overhearing the exchange, exchanged murmurs.
"Did she just finish that in under three hours?"
"No way. She must've skipped steps or had help."
"Even with help, you'd still need to complete everything properly to get paid — so either way, she did it right."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lyra spent the rest of the day completing nine more Iron quests, all with the same startling efficiency. By evening, she had achieved Iron rank — a promotion that sent the guild into an uproar. Even among prodigies, such a leap was almost unheard of; most promising newcomers needed several days to complete the ten iron rank quests required for advancement. Adventurers clustered in small groups, whispering in awe and disbelief.
"One day, really? No way, that's impossible."
"Even geniuses can't do that without insane luck or help."
"Help or not, she got the stamp of approval — it's the only thing that matters."
Some of the top-ranked adventurers glanced over from their tables, curiosity sparking in their eyes, while others weighed the idea of recruiting her before someone else did.
As the noise in the guild swirled around her, Lyra leaned back in her chair, letting the events of the day settle in her mind. From her first quest in the morning to facing down threats in the field, every moment had tested her skills—and proven she could hold her own. She glanced at the pouch of coins on the table, mentally counting: today's work had earned her nearly a full gold coin when converted from silver, far more than she'd expected for her first day as an adventurer. Not a fortune, but enough to cover food, lodging, and supplies for several days, with even a little left for emergencies.
It's strange, she mused, to think that just this morning I was a complete newcomer, unsure if I could even make it through one quest. And now… here I am, coin in hand, my name whispered in the guild hall. I suppose this is what it feels like to truly start walking the path of an adventurer.
A small smile tugged at her lips; for the first time since arriving in this world, she truly felt like she was beginning to build something. She thought of the startled faces of the guild staff, the murmurs of the other adventurers, the scent of iron and earth still clinging faintly to her clothes. Her muscles ached from the fight, and her heart still thrummed with the rush of battle.
She let her gaze linger on the pouch, mentally tallying her total earnings: the quest reward, the small bonus for swift completion, and the value of a few salvaged materials—just over one gold and two silver coins in total. For a single day's work, it was far beyond anything she had dared to expect. Enough to secure her room at the inn for a week, restock her supplies, and still keep a comfortable reserve. Not bad for my first real day, she thought, a quiet pride blooming in her chest. She leaned back, letting the thought settle.
One gold and two silver… she mused again, rolling the numbers in her mind. That's nearly what some villagers make in a month. If I can keep this pace—no, even half this pace—I won't just survive here. I'll thrive. Step by step, coin by coin, I'll carve out my place in this world.
She replayed the day's journey in her mind—from setting out at dawn with uncertainty, to the unexpected aid she'd found, to returning victorious. Each coin felt like proof of her ability to adapt, survive, and grow stronger in this unfamiliar world.
These aren't just coins, she reminded herself, they're pieces of proof that I can make it here, that I'm no longer just surviving—I'm moving forward.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, back in her small rented room at the inn, Lyra set the coin pouch on the bedside table and sighed, the weight of the day melting from her shoulders. She drew a bath in the small adjoining washroom, sinking into the warm water until it lapped at her chin. The heat seeped into her sore muscles, coaxing out the lingering tension from the fight, and she closed her eyes, letting the gentle steam wrap her in comfort. A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
After a long day like this, nothing beats the embrace of warm water, she thought, feeling the stress and dirt of the road wash away.
The warmth seeped into her very bones, untying every knot of tension and softening the ache in her limbs. She let her mind drift, replaying the day—the wary eyes of the villagers when she first arrived, the tense moment before her strike, the weight of her blade meeting the creature's hide, the cub's pained cry, the villagers' relieved faces, and the shock in the guild hall—all blurring together with the gentle lapping of water. As her muscles loosened, a drowsy peace settled over her.
After drying off, she enjoyed a simple yet delicious dinner—a bowl of hearty stew, fresh bread, and a cup of spiced tea—each bite reminding her how rare it still felt to eat without urgency, even if she had managed it a few times in recent days. The warmth from the meal and bath mingled, pulling her deeper into comfort. Back in her room, she slipped beneath the soft covers, the distant murmur of the inn below fading into silence.
Today was exhausting… but worth it, she thought, her eyelids growing heavy.
Within moments, she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.