Dave didn't stop running.
He didn't look back. He didn't think. He didn't breathe too deeply. Every instinct screamed at him to move—faster, further, away from the people who tried to kill him.
The trees blurred past him, branches cutting at his skin, roots threatening to trip him, but he pushed forward. His legs burned, lungs ached, but the Dash skill helped him cover more ground than his body normally could. He didn't even know how long he had been running—all he knew was that stopping meant death.
He passed wild beasts on the way. Ferocious ones. Sharp fangs. Glowing eyes. Creatures that stared at him as he ran by.
But they didn't chase.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe they didn't see him as a threat. Or maybe… something else was keeping them at bay.
None of it mattered now.
Eventually, just as his strength was about to give out, his eyes caught sight of something—a break in the trees. Stone walls. Watchtowers.
A village Named kogi.
His heart skipped.
He stumbled forward, nearly falling face-first into the dirt, but he managed to keep going.
As he neared the entrance, two guards stationed at the village gate raised their weapons cautiously.
"Halt!"
Dave skidded to a stop, gasping, sweat running down his face, clothes torn from the branches he had crashed through. His body screamed in exhaustion, but he forced himself to speak.
The taller guard stepped forward. "What are you running from, kid?"
Dave looked up, breathing heavily. His mind spun with everything that had happened—Katie and the ambush
But he couldn't say the truth. No one would believe him. Worse, if they were loyal to the academy—or even reported him—he'd be dragged back and finished off.
He clenched his fists and lowered his eyes.
"A beast," he muttered. "I was attacked in the wild… ran all night to escape."
The guards looked at each other, then back at him. The shorter one sighed and lowered his spear slightly.
"Another reckless trainee," he muttered. "You're lucky to be alive."
After a brief pause, the taller one stepped aside and gestured toward the village. "Go on in. But don't cause trouble."
Dave gave a small nod of gratitude and dragged himself through the gates.
The village was simple but alive. A few people walked between wooden stalls, merchants sold dried meat and small tools, and children ran around carrying wooden swords. It was built around a central square with cobbled paths branching in every direction. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys, and chickens clucked near the corners of houses.
It wasn't large. But it wasn't small either.
It felt… safe.
For now.
Dave stopped in the middle of the square, his legs nearly giving out. He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees. The cold morning air brushed past his skin, making him realize how much blood and dirt still clung to him.
But relief didn't last long.
He reached into his pocket.
Empty.
No beast crystals. No coins. Nothing to his name.
His stomach growled. Loudly.
He needed food.
He needed rest.
But without money, he couldn't afford an inn. And sleeping outside in an unfamiliar place wasn't just dangerous—it was humiliating. He had escaped death… but now, reality returned with a quiet cruelty.
No one knew who he was.
And even if they did… they wouldn't care.
He was just another wanderer with empty pockets.
Dave stood in the square for a long while, thinking. His stomach grumbled again, reminding him that time wasn't on his side.
He looked around—the bakery down the street smelled like warm bread and spices. His body instinctively moved toward it before he stopped himself.
He couldn't afford anything. Not even a scrap.
What now?
Then it hit him.
The Guild.
Every town had one. A place where adventurers, mercenaries, hunters—all types of people—could accept tasks or jobs in exchange for coin or resources. If he could just complete one small quest… he might be able to afford a room for the night. And food. Real food.
He approached a stall nearby and cleared his throat. The merchant, a friendly older woman arranging vegetables, looked up.
"Excuse me," Dave said. "Is there a Guild Hall in this village?"
She blinked, then smiled and pointed. "Straight down that road, past the blacksmith. You'll see a stone building with a sign shaped like a sword and shield. Can't miss it."
"Thank you," he replied with a small bow.
She gave him a warm nod and returned to her vegetables.
Dave followed the path she described, moving past the clanging sounds of the blacksmith's hammer. Soon enough, he saw it—a wide building with tall wooden doors, stone walls, and a large sign hanging above it.
Just like she said—a sword and shield crossed in the middle.
The Guild Hall.
He stepped inside.
The first thing he noticed was the noise. Dozens of voices, clinking mugs, the crackling of a fireplace. Tables were filled with adventurers eating, drinking, or laughing. Some were sharpening weapons, others counting coins. On the far end was a long counter with several clerks, and beside it—mounted on the wall—was a massive quest board covered with papers and pinned notes.
His eyes drifted to it, drawn like a magnet.
People were crowded around the board, scanning it for jobs. Most of them looked experienced—tough armor, confident posture, high-quality weapons.
Dave stepped closer, unsure what to do.
"First time?"
He turned.
A middle-aged man stood beside him. He had a rugged face, stubble on his chin, and a worn leather coat over a chainmail shirt. A large sword hung across his back. Despite his intimidating appearance, his expression was calm—almost amused.
"Uh… yeah," Dave nodded. "I was just… wondering how it works."
The man gave a slight chuckle and crossed his arms. "Figured as much. Don't worry, we all started somewhere. You're looking at the quest board, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, first thing's first," the man said, nodding toward the front desk. "You'll need to register. Get yourself an Adventurer's ID. No ID, no quests."
"Right…" Dave glanced toward the counter. "How do I register?"
"Talk to one of the clerks. They'll ask for your name, maybe do a quick test to check your rank—or just start you at the bottom. Most new folks are given an F-rank badge."
"F-rank?"
The man smiled. "The lowest. But it's a start. Once you've got that, you can only take F-rank quests at first—gathering herbs, killing weak beasts, courier jobs… you know, simple stuff."
Dave nodded slowly. "And once I complete a quest, I get paid?"
"Yup. Payment depends on the difficulty. Some pay more than others. Some let you keep what you gather too—like beast cores or herbs. It adds up."
"I see…" Dave looked at the board again, eyes lingering on the many posted quests. "Thanks for explaining."
"No problem, kid," the man said, patting his shoulder. "Word of advice? Don't bite off more than you can chew. Start small. Survive long enough to climb."
With
that, the man turned and walked off, leaving Dave alone in front of the quest board.
He looked back toward the counter.
It was time to register.