Joining one might actually work in my favor. I’d get a temporary license as a student to accept missions—travel without suspicion, earn some coin, gather intel. All without the hassle of being labeled a rogue or, worse, a potential enemy spy.

Figuring it was worth checking out, I stepped into the crowd—immediately getting shoved by some large guy right into a booth’s front.

“Ahh, too many people...” I muttered.

A tall, bulky man stood in front of me, fully geared in knight armor that had clearly seen battle. He looked to be in his thirties, and judging by the size of his sword and the way his armor didn't slow him down, I’d guess he was a Second Stage Warrior Class.

"Hey," he said casually, "you interested in joining our faction?"

I eyed him for a moment. He didn’t seem bad—actually had a decent presence—but if he was out here personally recruiting, their faction probably hadn’t reached any serious level yet. Still, I couldn’t judge. After all, I was only Semi-Second Stage myself.

I didn’t exactly have the résumé to be picky... but maybe, just maybe, I'd try my luck.

"Uhhh..." I glanced up at his booth.

“We’re looking for specific classes only—Wizards, Holy Knights, Healers!”

“Well, thing is... I’m a Holy Knight.”

“WOAH! Young boy, you’re a Holy Knight? That’s perfect! Join us!”

“Uhh…”

He leaned in. “So what’s your class level? First Stage? Second? Third? Or—don’t tell me—you’re one of those prodigies already sitting at End Stage?”

I hesitated. Not because I didn’t know—I did—but explaining it always felt weird. See, classes here aren’t just a title. They determine your status. What magic you’re born with, the weapon you wield, even how people treat you. Everything’s tied to your affinity and how far you’ve pushed it.

And the ranks? First Stage, Second, Third, and End Stage. The higher you go, the more insane the gap gets. Some people never go past Second Stage.

“Uhh, unfortunately, I’m still Semi-Second Stage... which, yeah, basically means I’m First Stage.”
I gave a small bow, feeling a bit guilty for not living up to his sudden excitement.

When I looked back up, he had a hand to his chin, looking like he was deep in thought.

“There’s no rank requirement in our faction,” he finally said. “We only listed specific classes ‘cause we’ve had issues when heading out as a party.”

“Oh...? I see,” I replied quietly.

“So that means—you’ll join our faction?!”
Before I could even react, he grabbed my hands and started shaking them up and down like he’d just won the lottery. Why does a guy that bulky act this... energetic?

“Okay, okay! I’ll join!” I nodded, not because I was being pressured (well, maybe a little), but mostly because I needed any faction to get licensed for adventuring requirements. Any one would’ve worked—this one just got to me first.