The Adventurers' Town, Silverwood!
Two days.
That was how long they had spent on the road. After the bloodshed, the tears, and the rapid growth that forced them to mature beyond their years, the destination was finally in sight.
The massive wooden gates of Silverwood creaked open, revealing a bustling world within.
Both Isabella and Damien felt a weight lift off their shoulders. They were over the moon.
"Haha! Isabelle! Look at that!" Damien pointed excitedly, his composure as a noble completely abandoned.
"They're actually selling Candied Haws here! It's just like in the novels!"
"And over here, Young Master..." Isabelle peered at a bubbling cauldron with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. "Boiled Aracane Legs?"
"Ugh... who looks at a giant spider and thinks, 'Lunch'?"
Damien dragged Isabelle from stall to stall, weaving through the crowd.
The inner childishness in his heart, suppressed by the need for survival, had unknowingly taken over.
Minutes ago, they had been tense travelers. But after flashing their family emblem to the guards, they had breezed through the checkpoint.
Logic dictated they should find an inn, drop off the carriage, and rest. But Damien insisted on exploring immediately.
"Ohh! What's that in the middle of town?" Damien stopped dead in his tracks.
"That huge building?"
A familiar joy rushed into his heart. It was the same electric thrill he used to feel back on the Blue Star when he found a new, top-tier novel with thousands of chapters. Except this time, he wasn't reading the words.
He was living them.
The air was thick with the scent of soot from nearby smithies and the savory grease of street food.
The noise was a chaotic symphony, clanging hammers, haggling merchants, and the laughter of drunkards.
All around him, the fantasy world breathed.
A human warrior in battered leather armor marched past with a greatsword swung across his back.
To the left, a cat-eared beastkin manned a small potion shop, waving her tail to signal customers.
Isabelle took in the scene, her eyes wide. Like Damien, this was her first time seeing the wider world.
But as his guardian, and his maid, she forced herself to snap out of it.
Compose yourself, Isabelle, she scolded herself. You are the shield.
She grabbed Damien's sleeve, holding him back from wandering into a dark alley.
"Calm down, Young Master. We left the carriage at the inn specifically to avoid attracting suspicion," she whispered urgently.
"If you keep behaving like a country bumpkin, people will take notice."
Unfortunately, it was hard to take her scolding seriously.
While her mouth spoke of caution, her eyes were glued to a skewer of roasting meat, and a distinct trail of drool was forming at the corner of her lips.
"What is that spice?" she muttered, her eyes losing focus. "It smells... divine."
"No, calm down, Isabelle! You're supposed to be the adult here!" Damien laughed.
Isabelle struggled. Her eyes darted left and right, fighting a losing battle against her own biology.
Since awakening her demon blood, her basic stats had skyrocketed. But with great power came great sensitivity.
The savory smells of Silverwood were hitting her senses with twice the intensity of a normal human. To her, the street food didn't just smell good; it smelled like life itself.
Damien smiled at her struggle, then turned his gaze back to the massive structure looming over the town center.
"Young Master, it seems you weren't paying attention," Isabelle said, wiping her mouth and trying to regain her dignity.
"That building is the heart of Silverwood."
"The Adventurers' Guild," Damien finished for her.
"Where people of all races gather to post and accept quests."
"Correct. According to rumors, an S-Class Adventurer holds status on par with the kings of smaller nations," Isabelle recited from her training.
"Currently, our kingdom has five S-Class adventurers. Your mother and father were two of them before they retired."
Hearing this, Damien's smile faded slightly.
The Adventurers' Guild...
He knew this faction well. In the original novel, the Guild and the Bounty Hunters were the primary walls of defense against the Demon Race.
But there was a problem. A massive one.
In the original timeline, the Guild Master was assassinated before the war truly began.
This decapitation strike split the guild into warring factions, leaving humanity unorganized and weak.
Damien narrowed his eyes, his mind racing through the plot details.
The Guild Master is supposed to break through to the 8th Order in six years. He gets assassinated during his breakthrough meditation.
If my theory is correct, the villains killed him specifically to weaken the world's defense before the invasion.
Damien muttered under his breath, "Most of the major deaths in this timeline serve one purpose: to lower the world's overall combat power."
If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to win, he had to prevent those deaths.
The excitement of the market faded, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve.
"Alright, Isabelle. Let's head to the Guild."
"As we discussed," Damien whispered, "we need to register our new adventurer identities immediately."
He wanted to warn the Guild Master right now. He wanted to scream, 'Hey! Watch your back in six years!'
But that was impossible.
First, this was just a branch office; the Guild Master was in the capital.
Second, who would believe a kid? And third, walking up to a 7th Order powerhouse and spouting prophecies would likely get him killed on the spot.
Damien needed leverage. He needed status.
Six years, he thought, clenching his fist. In the next six years, I need to become an S-Rank Adventurer.
Only then will my words have weight. Only then can I stand before the Guild Master as an equal.
"Isabelle," Damien said, his voice dropping an octave.
Isabelle snapped to attention, sensing the shift in his mood. The drool was gone, replaced by the sharp gaze of a demon.
"Let's go."
"Yes, Young Master!"
They moved toward the town center, leaving the distractions of the market behind.
However, what they didn't know was that apart from the Guild, another surprise was waiting for them in the shadows of Silverwood.
…............................
[Location: Adventurers' Guild - Silverwood Branch]
Standing in front of the three-story wooden building, the sheer scale of it was intimidating.
The words ADVENTURERS GUILD were plastered across the top in bold, iron plating.
Damien and Isabelle looked up in awe.
"And so it begins," Damien muttered, his eyes twinkling, not with childish joy this time, but with anticipation.
"Our future starts here."
Isabelle stood by his side, her face a mask of apprehension and expectation.
Unlike the journey here, what happened next wouldn't just be travel and survival. It would be politics, warfare, and monster hunting.
Gods and Demons would be watching.
Yet, looking at Damien, Isabelle felt no fear. Only excitement.
"Haha! Isabelle, are you ready?" Damien grinned, stepping toward the heavy oak doors.
"From here on out, there's no going back."
Isabelle's eyes flashed with a hint of crimson light.
"Ready?" She scoffed softly, her hand hovering near her hidden blade.
"As long as the Young Master wills it, I am always ready."
Seeing her determination, Damien nodded. He pushed the doors open.
Get ready, world, he thought, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
This minor villain is coming for you.