At dawn, the team reached the capital

The Empire’s stone walls rose from the ground like gigantic cliffs, cutting off the sky from the earth. Banners fluttered above them,

Valdor stopped, raising his head. To him, who remembered the world before the fall of the dragons, these walls were a testament not only to the Empire’s power, but also to bondage.

Valdor clenched his fist.

Mayuri was also looking up, but a chill lurked in her eyes. Her connection to the shadow compelled her to sense every spell embedded in the walls’ structure, every runic circle — nothing here was “natural.”

Arwen shifted restlessly; her wolf’s senses detected the scent of hundreds of people and smoke. Kael adjusted his cloak, covering his bandaged side. Noah, meanwhile, smiled broadly, though there was more defiance than joy in his smile.

“A beautiful place to burn.” — he muttered, squinting.

“Not today… We have to stay here as seekers…” — Valdor replied calmly, glancing toward the gate.

A guard stood before them — a tall man in heavy armor, with a sword at his belt and a halberd resting on his shoulder. He stopped them with a wave of his hand.

“Halt!” — his voice was sharp, but he wasn’t shouting. — “Where are you headed?”

Valdor stepped forward.

“We’re a team of adventurers. We’ve come to register with the guild.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, letting his gaze sweep over their figures. He fixed his gaze on Noah, whose hands were still sparking with the remnants of fire, then on Arwen, whose wolfish instincts were almost palpable.

“You don't look like ordinary travelers.” — he said. — “Do you have any documents?”

Mayuri stepped forward slightly, handing him the rolled-up parchment they’d received from the last village. It was a letter of recommendation, though a very modest one, merely confirming that they weren’t bandits. The guard unrolled it and read it for a long time, too long, as if searching for an excuse. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Guild registration?” — he asked again, just to be sure.

“Yes.” — Valdor confirmed.

“In that case… come in. But I’m warning you.” — the guard fixed his gaze directly on Valdor. — “The capital does not forgive lies.”

The iron door swung open with a heavy creak, and the party crossed the threshold.

The world changed instantly. They were hit by the noise — the roar of the crowds, the music of the street musicians, the shouts of the merchants, the clatter of horses’ hooves, the clanking of carts. The streets stretched wide, cobblestone-paved and lined with colorful stalls. The air smelled of roasted meat, fresh bread, wine… and blood from the nearby arena.

“Hah…” — Noah looked around, spreading his arms wide. — “Finally, a place where something’s happening.”

“Where the Empire watches your every step.” — Mayuri corrected him, casting a cool glance at the watchtowers.

Kael walked more slowly, his gaze wandering over the stone facades. He saw things the rest of them didn’t — the defense system, places to hide, places to attack. That’s how his soldier’s mind worked.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here…” — he whispered.

Arwen sensed the crowd like animals in the forest — every breath, every glance. Some of the people passing by stopped for a moment, sizing up the group. They were strangers here, and it was all too obvious.

“Let them stare.” — she muttered under her breath. “At least they know we’re not just anyone.”

Before them stood a building that was impossible to mistake. The Adventurers’ Guild. A towering headquarters bearing the crest—a sword and a quill crossed against the backdrop of a runic circle. Stairs led up to a heavy door, and dozens of people milled about: adventurers, merchants, villagers, and even a few mercenaries in imperial colors.

“Well then… let’s get to work.” — Valdor said.

When they entered, the Guild resembled a marketplace more than an institution. Inside, it was noisy: laughter, the clinking of mugs, the clatter of coins on the counters. A huge bulletin board took up an entire wall — filled with commissions, task slips, and notes about bounties for monsters.

Behind the counter sat the receptionist — a young woman with a sharp gaze, wearing an elegant uniform. A line of adventurers had formed in front of her, loudly boasting about their achievements.

The team got in line. Noah sighed.

“This looks more like an inn than a guild.”

“That means it’s doing well.” — Mayuri replied, squinting.

When it was their turn, the receptionist looked up.

“Registration?” — she asked in a tone that sounded like routine.

“Yes." — Valdor replied.

The woman nodded, took out a ledger and a quill.

“Team name?”

There was a moment of silence. Kael looked at Valdor, Arwen at Mayuri, and Noah smiled mischievously.

“We don’t have one yet.” — Valdor admitted.

“In that case, I’ll register you as Team No. 15. You can change the name later.” — The receptionist scribbled a few characters, then looked up.

“The first registration means the lowest rank. No exceptions.”

“The lowest?” — Noah burst out laughing. — “So what, are we going to be cleaning stables?” he added.

“If necessary.” — the woman replied coldly. — “Rank F. That’s where everyone starts.”

Medallions appeared on the counter — simple, iron discs bearing the guild’s symbol. The team looked at them, then at each other. Valdor reached out first, clenching his hand around a medallion.

“Every beginning is difficult. But it’s a step we need to take.”

Mayuri nodded slightly and took hers. Arwen clenched the medallion so tightly that her claws nearly scratched it. Kael smiled wryly, and Noah shrugged.

“Rank F or not… We’re going to make more noise than the rest of this bunch anyway.”

The team left the counter, each holding a medallion in their hand. They now stood in the middle of the bustling guild, among dozens of other adventurers.

The first step had been taken.

Although they were only “Rank F.” and although they were just beginning their official journey in the guild, each of them knew that their rank wouldn’t define them.

Valdor looked at his companions.

“Starting today, we are adventurers. But our journey… is more than just quests. It’s a war for the future.”

Mayuri smiled subtly, Noah snorted with amusement, Arwen clutched her medallion like a trophy, and Kael simply nodded.

Suddenly, the guild’s door burst open with a crash, slamming against the wall so hard that several goblets on the tables clinked from the impact.

A tall man entered, his long blue hair flowing freely over his shoulders like a waterfall. His gaze was wild, full of arrogant confidence, and his outfit looked as if it had been torn from civilization — leather, belts, metal accents — yet worn with such ease that he seemed to be the very embodiment of the force of nature.

Then the rest of the team entered. Their silhouettes, armor, and emblems immediately revealed one thing — the highest guild rank. Everyone in the hall fell silent; even the bard, who had been playing in the corner just a moment ago, silenced his lute and looked toward the entrance.

The adventurers whispered among themselves:

“It’s them…”

“Rank S… The Wolf’s Edge Party…”

The atmosphere grew tense. The ordinary adventurers, who just a moment ago had been laughing over mugs of beer, now watched with a mixture of respect and envy.