When Soren's eyes fluttered open, the blanket was halfway to the floor, and his pillow had somehow migrated to the foot of the bed.
He groaned, rolling onto his back and staring at the uneven ceiling above him.
'Since when did I start moving so much in my sleep…?'
He stretched once, his joints popping quietly, before dragging himself out of bed.
The wooden floor was cool under his bare feet as he shuffled toward the door, half-asleep and only wearing a loose, thin shirt and shorts.
He yawned once more before stepping into the hallway.
The corridor was still dim, lit by faint morning sunlight leaking through the narrow windows.
He made his way to the end of the hall where the bathrooms were, separated into men's and women's, and, as usual, turned toward the women's door.
He pushed it open and entered, ignoring the nagging guilt in the back of his mind.
His expression didn't change as he walked to an empty basin and turned the faucet on.
The cold water hit his face, chasing away the last traces of sleep.
He washed his face carefully, brushed his teeth, and combed through his messy white hair with the small brush he always carried.
Once his reflection looked somewhat presentable, soft, drowsy features, tired crimson eyes, and slightly damp hair, he left without a word.
Downstairs, the inn's tavern was already stirring with noise.
The smell of bread and cooked eggs lingered in the air.
He sat down at an empty table, still in his sleepwear, and waved over the nearest server.
"Just some bread and milk," he said simply.
"Coming right up."
If Witch Hunt happened to be there, they always noticed him instantly.
"Again, you're walking around dressed like that?" Alice would scold, voice sharp but not unkind.
Morrigan would sigh and rest her chin on her hand.
"You're far too defenceless, Soren. What if someone decided to touch you?"
"Then they'd regret it." Soren would reply.
That response usually earned him more nagging than before, but it was easier than trying to argue with them seriously in the morning.
After a few minutes of their chatter and teasing, they would eventually calm down, and breakfast would continue peacefully.
If Witch Hunt weren't around, like today, then breakfast felt longer.
The stares from nearby tables were impossible to ignore.
A few men would try to start conversations, but Soren's blank, disinterested gaze quickly made them give up.
He finished his meal in silence, left a few coins on the counter, and stood to leave.
On his way out, he grabbed the folded daily newspaper sitting on the counter, a habit he had picked up to stay aware of current events, and returned to his room.
Inside, the blanket and pillow still sat in disarray from earlier.
He sighed softly before sitting on the bed and flipping through the paper.
There were a few interesting headlines about minor border disputes and an upcoming noble wedding, but nothing particularly relevant to him.
After finishing, he placed the newspaper aside and began gathering his things.
He returned to the women's bathroom, took a shower, scrubbing away the faint smell of sweat and dust.
When he stepped out, wrapped in a towel, steam trailing from his skin, he would reach for his skincare products Esper had given him when they shared a room at the Arden estate.
– Take better care of your skin, it's a waste if you don't
He smiled faintly at the memory and followed her instructions exactly, applying them in the careful order she had given.
Then, using a bit of controlled wind magic, he dried his hair until it was soft and smooth.
After dressing in his academy uniform, he tied the bronze plate around his neck and left his room.
As always, a few glances followed him as he descended the stairs, but he ignored them.
The morning sunlight filled the tavern through its expansive windows, and outside, the streets of Ingrid were already busy with people heading to work or errands.
He made his way next door, toward the Adventurers' Guild.
The guild's wooden doors opened into a vast hall full of voices, adventurers talking, laughing, arguing, and planning.
He went straight to the request board, his eyes scanning the sheets pinned to the wood.
Monster exterminations, material gathering, and escort missions.
He always chose the one that would take the least amount of time.
After deciding, he plucked a request slip from the board and walked to the reception desk.
"Good morning, Soren," the receptionist greeted him, used to seeing his face by now.
"Morning," he replied quietly, handing over the paper. "I'll take this one. How far am I from promotion?"
It was a question he asked every morning, and the receptionist, ready for it, had the records already open.
"Hmm… you're getting close. Maybe just a few more successful requests."
"I see." He nodded once and accepted the stamped request slip back.
Then, with that done, he stepped outside, heading toward the Horseway Terminal.
The terminal was crowded as usual, a large open yard filled with multiple wagons, each drawn by pairs of massive horses.
Travellers, merchants, and adventurers stood in separate lines depending on their destination.
Soren walked up to the counter and slid over the required coins, the clerk handing him a wooden token in exchange.
He joined the line, flipping the request slip in his hand.
The target location was a small forest area two stations away.
He glanced up at the large map nailed beside the terminal gates, then mentally traced his route.
Once the next wagon arrived, he stepped aboard and found an empty seat near the window.
The ride would take about half an hour.
He reached into his inventory and pulled out a thin, worn book he had bought from a nearby bookstore, a romance novel that he thought Lilliana might enjoy, and began reading quietly as the wagon started to move.
Sometimes he practices magic during these trips, forming small magic circles in hidden places or adjusting the power of a circle.
Other times, he simply read or closed his eyes to rest.
He found the rhythmic clatter of wheels on the cobblestone strangely relaxing.
When he reached his stop, he stepped off and headed into the woods, following his compass and the map in his mind that he had memorised weeks ago.
His movements were precise and efficient, the result of routine.
Depending on the day, his quests varied.
Sometimes it was gathering rare herbs deep in the forest.
Other times, hunting small monsters that threatened nearby trade routes.
Today, it was the latter.
After walking for about ten minutes, he spotted the first group of goblins.
Four of them, smaller and weaker than most people imagined, but still dangerous to the commonfolk.
Soren unsheathed Labrys quietly.
He took a single step forward, a short exhale, then, suddenly, a flash of movement.
[+1P]
The first goblin fell before it could even scream.
The second tried to run, but a quick [Shockwave] spell broke its leg, sending it tumbling.
The third and fourth charged, but a flicker of flame from Soren's left hand engulfed them before they got too close.
'Easy again…'
He cleaned the axe blade with a small water spell, then flicked away the blood.
After confirming that all targets had been eliminated, he collected the required monster parts as proof and rechecked the list.
When noon came, he sat under a tree and took out his lunch, bread, cheese, and dried fruit from his inventory.
It wasn't particularly good, but it was filling.
The shade kept him cool as he ate silently, his eyes half-lidded.
Once lunch was over, he resumed the task until everything was done, then cast [Clean] to wash away the dirt, sweat and blood.
The magic circle shimmered faintly, leaving his clothes and hair spotless once again.
Afterwards, he retraced his path to the Horseway Terminal and boarded the return wagon.
The trip back was uneventful, the same dull rhythm of hooves and wheels marking time.
By evening, he was standing at the Guild counter again, handing over the completed request.
The receptionist confirmed the details, counted the proof items, marked the quest as cleared, and handed him his payment in a small pouch.
Then, depending on the day, he either met up with Witch Hunt or ate alone.
If they were there, he joined their conversation, laughing occasionally, though never too much.
When they weren't, he quietly finished his food and went back to his room.
This routine was repeated for two entire weeks.
Every morning, every night.
The same pattern, the same rhythm.
And without noticing, the days began to blur together.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
Three weeks after registering as an adventurer, Soren stood at the reception desk again.
The air inside the Guild was filled with chatter, but his focus stayed on the woman in front of him as she flipped through a set of papers.
"...and that completes your last request for this week," she said with a satisfied nod. "Congratulations, Soren. Your performance has been officially reviewed, and you've qualified for rank promotion."
Soren blinked.
"A promotion?"
She smiled and nodded again.
"Yes. Please hand me your Bronze plate."
He unclipped the small metal tag from around his neck and handed it over.
The receptionist placed it on the counter, took out a new plate from a box beneath the desk, and pressed it against a glowing stone to inscribe his name and records.
A soft light traced across the metal's surface.
Then she held it out to him, this time, a darker colour.
"Iron-rank. Congratulations, Soren. You've officially reached the starting point," she said warmly.
"Thank you," he said, slipping it around his neck again.
As he stepped away from the counter, Witch Hunt, who had been lounging nearby, immediately surrounded him.
Alice leaned over with a grin.
"Iron-rank, huh? Look at you moving up in the world."
"Congratulations," Morrigan said more softly, her voice genuinely pleased.
"Kids these days are quick… remember those lovebirds from a few weeks back?" Hannah said.
"Shut it, Hannah! Focus on Soren! We should celebrate!" Soni shouted from behind, her voice playful.
Soren chuckled lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"You really don't have to—"
But it was too late.
Alice had already grabbed his arm.
"No, no, no. You've been working non-stop for three weeks. Tonight, you're eating with us, and you're not allowed to refuse."
Soren sighed, but didn't protest.
"Fine. Just… not too late."
"Good enough!" Soni said, satisfied.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
That evening, they gathered at the tavern next door, their usual table pushed closer to the wall.
The place was lively, full of laughter, clinking cups, and the smell of roasted meat.
Soren's plate was mostly vegetables and stew, but it was intentional; he had been avoiding meals that would make him sluggish.
Morrigan raised her mug first.
"To our newest Iron-rank adventurer."
"""To Soren!""" the others echoed, clinking their cups together.
Soren lifted his own quietly.
"Thanks. Really."
After the cheers died down, they began eating, their conversations jumping between random topics; the last few quests, rumours about nobility, complaints about the weather, anything they could think of.
At some point, Alice leaned closer.
"So, Soren," she began, her eyes filled with curiosity, "now that you're Iron-rank… what's next for you?"
Soren paused mid-bite.
"Next?"
"Yeah. You've been running requests like a machine lately. Got any plans? You don't seem like the type to sit around."
He thought for a moment, wondering whether he should tell them before answering simply.
"A dungeon."
The table quieted slightly.
"Tomorrow," he added.
"A dungeon?" Morrigan repeated, eyes narrowing slightly. "You mean alone?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
"That's dangerous," she said immediately, worry flashing across her face. "Which one are you planning to enter?"
"The Goblin King's Nest."
Morrigan frowned.
"That one might be weak, but it's still a dungeon. Even low-ranked ones can be unpredictable."
"I know. I'll be fine."
His voice was calm and steady.
Alice leaned forward, crossing her arms.
"You sure? You've never shown us how you fight, so we don't know what you're capable of, but it's still risky."
Soren met her gaze briefly, then looked at his food again.
"You'll have to take my word for it, then. I'm a student of Stellaris Academy, remember?"
That answer didn't satisfy anyone, but they could tell from his tone that he wasn't being careful, just firm.
He wasn't brushing them off; he was simply… holding something back.
After a moment, Morrigan sighed.
"You're too calm about this. I can't tell if it's confidence or recklessness."
Soren smiled faintly.
"Who knows?"
The table went quiet again for a second before Hannah broke the silence.
"Well, whatever the case, just don't die, alright? Look after yourself properly, and keep an eye out, you never know what might be hiding."
Soren nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind."
They returned to lighter conversation after that, even though Morrigan's worried glance lingered every now and then, she didn't bring it up again.
It was clear she wasn't convinced, and Soren noticed that too, of course.
'They're worried even though we've only known each other for a short time…'
It felt strange, comforting and heavy at the same time.
He didn't dislike it, but he knew it couldn't last.
The end of summer break would mean goodbye, and there were things about him that he still hadn't told them.
He was grateful for their company, but he also couldn't let himself grow attached.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The next day came quickly.
Soren rose with the dawn, following the same routine as always: washing his face, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, eating a light breakfast.
The tavern was quieter than usual; Witch Hunt hadn't shown up yet.
He finished eating, paid, and stepped into the building next door.
He grabbed the request for the Goblin King's Nest off the board, took it to the receptionist, got it stamped, and then left the Guild.
He boarded the wagon from the Horseway Terminal, then got off when he reached his destination.
He walked for a while, and before long, the forest thinned, giving way to the open fields.
A faint mist lingered above the grass, and from the way Soren's eye twitched, he could tell it was mana.
In the distance, a low hill stood, and at its base, a dark cave mouth.
The Goblin King's Nest.
Soren stopped a few meters away, staring at the opening.
A faint, foul-smelling wind drifted out from inside.
He tightened his grip on the handaxe's handle.
'Alright, time to start farming.'
He let out a deep breath, long and deliberate, before stepping forward.
The sound of his boots echoed softly as he entered the darkness.
And just like that, the light of the morning vanished behind him.
————「❤︎」————