In the middle of a bustling city laid with cobblestone roads and filled with detached houses and cottages, the area thrived as a business district. Stalls and shops lined the streets, merchants calling out to prospective buyers.
Raven strode through the busy city among other pedestrians, an acute smile on his face.
"Lolibella, the city of Adventurers," he muttered.
All around him were people clad in gear typical of adventurers. Their weapons were strapped to their bodies, some around their waists, some across their backs, others carried theirs in hand. Many wore belts strapped across their chests, heavy with pouches and tools.
Raven walked into a three-storey cream-painted building. At its top hung a large symbol of a shield crossed by two swords. This was the Adventurer's Guild, an organization that registered and regulated adventurers from across the world.
Inside, the place buzzed with activity. Adventurers crowded around bulletin boards checking missions, while others queued at counters to confirm their selections. Groups clustered together, gossiping or boasting of past exploits.
Raven approached a receptionist at the counter.
"Hi," he greeted with a smile. "I want to register as an adventurer."
"Good day. The registration fee is 10 gold coins," a yellow female stickman replied.
Raven's brow creased. Though he already knew the cost, it still stung. Stickmanlandia (colloquially called Stickman Nation) had three main currencies: Lepton, a copper coin and the lowest denomination; Denarius, made of silver, with 25 Lepta equal to one Denarius; and Daric, a gold coin, the highest value—four Denarii equal one Daric (100 Lepta to one Daric).
With a begrudging sigh, Raven reached for the pouch at his waist. His arm trembled as he placed it on the counter.
'Damn it… that was my total allowance plus the money I made from selling some stuff. I'll have to earn it back before Dinah returns'.
The receptionist checked the pouch.
"This is in Lepta?" she asked.
"…"
"Well, let's count it."
"What?! You're going to count that? That's a thousand Lepta!" Raven protested, startled.
"1, 2, 3, 4…" she began, ignoring him.
"Tch. Let me ju—"
"You're staying till I finish counting. 11, 12, 13…" she continued calmly.
Raven's eye twitched. He sighed in resignation.
After several minutes of counting, the lady finally handed Raven a form. Once he filled it, she led him to a lobby where other applicants waited.
Scanning the room, Raven counted about twenty others. Most seemed to be reapplying for the test to climb higher in the ranks, their old badges still pinned to them. Scars marked their faces and exposed skin, relics of past battles. Their expressions were stoic, hardened, the air thick with tension. Raven smirked at the exaggerated seriousness around him.
A blue stickman with a scar running down his left cheek noticed and frowned.
"New to the test, are you? I'm sure you're thinking, 'I'm strong enough to get Grade A.' Don't let me burst your bubble, but the Adventurer's Test ain't easy. A lot of first-timers die from being overconfident."
"Oh, I'm a realist. Grade A is a high bar. Still, I think I shouldn't get anything less than C double-star," Raven replied, smirking.
"…" The man scowled.
Standing in the corner, a purple stickman watched Raven, smirking maniacally.
"Raven Stoneheart, please come forward and touch the magic orb," a woman in white robes called.
Raven stepped up and placed his hand on the dark orb. A faint drain of mana left his body as the orb glowed bright green, then dimmed.
The blue stickman burst into laughter.
"You again with C double-star? You're at the lowest stage!"
All stages of mana harnessing were marked
by colors. Both magic cultivation and weapon cultivation followed the same spectrum:
Mana Stage (low level) → forest green
Aura Stage (mid level) → emerald green
Soul Stage (advanced level) → glowing amber
Spirit stage (High level)→ Glowing golden yellow
Mystic stage (legendary Level)→ Ruby
"Don't be fooled by appearances. Things aren't always what they seem," Raven replied coolly.
"Plus, it's skill that matters, not just power level," the purple stickman cut in with a smirk. Raven furrowed his brow, there was something off about this man, though he couldn't place it.
Soon, all twenty-one applicants were led into a massive amphitheater. Though large enough to hold four thousand people, it was sparsely filled, with only applicants, examiners, and curious spectators present.
One applicant was called forward first, a slender stickman wielding dual blades, reapplying for a higher rank.
"Whatever rank you obtain in this test will remain until the following year, when it must be renewed. So do your best," the examiner declared loudly.
Some applicants wore tense expressions, while others brimmed with confidence. The rest took their seats to watch until their turn arrived.
The purple stickman slid into the seat beside Raven.
"How's everything? How's your new life going?" he asked casually.
Raven froze for a second, then turned his head slowly, staring at him in puzzlement.
"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously