Leon walked out of the Alchemical Emporium, the weight of his new reality pressing down on him. Tens of thousands of gold coins. It was a sum so vast it was laughable.
"Don't be sad, Leon," Kira's voice whispered in his mind, her tone soft and comforting. "You made fifteen gold coins in one day! You're amazing! We can just make more of those pretty beads!"
"It's not that simple, Kira," Leon replied mentally, a weary sigh escaping him. "The value of the beads comes from their rarity. If I flood the market, they'll become worthless. And even then, it would take years to earn that much."
He looked up at the bustling streets of Iridis. His only path forward, the one Master Thorne had laid out, was through the Adventurer's Guild. It was a path for mercenaries and sellswords, a far cry from the life of a cultivator, but it was the only one he had. With a look of grim determination, he turned and headed towards the roaring griffon sign Ming had pointed out.
The Adventurer's Guild was even more chaotic than the Alchemist's. The large hall was packed with people, and the air was thick with the smell of stale ale, sweat, and oiled leather. Burly warriors boasted loudly of their exploits, robed mages conversed in quiet corners, and a frustrated crowd was gathered around the main reception desk.
Leon squeezed his way to the front, where a sharp-eyed woman with a permanent scowl was dealing with a mountain of paperwork.
"I would like to register as an adventurer," Leon said clearly over the din.
The receptionist didn't even look up from her ledger. "The next registration test is in a month. Take a form from the stack and come back then. Next!" she barked, her voice a well-practiced monotone.
"Is there no way to take the test sooner?" Leon pressed.
The woman finally looked up, her expression a mixture of annoyance and boredom. "Rules are rules, kid. Everyone waits their turn. Now, if you'll excuse—"
Her words died in her throat. Leon had quietly placed the small, wooden griffon token Ming had given him on the counter. The receptionist's professional demeanor shattered. Her eyes went wide, and her pen clattered from her numb fingers. The adventurers closest to the desk fell silent as they recognized the token.
"O-one moment, sir," she stammered, her tone shifting from dismissive to deeply respectful. "Please, forgive my ignorance. I will get the Guild Master at once."
She scurried away, leaving Leon at the counter under the curious and shocked stares of the entire hall. A few moments later, he was escorted to a private office at the back. The room was practical, decorated with maps and a rack of well-used weapons. A man with a scarred face and the calm, powerful presence of a veteran warrior sat behind the desk. He looked at Leon, then at the token in his hand.
"Where did you get this?" the Guild Master asked, his voice a low rumble.
"A man named Ming gave it to me at the city gate," Leon replied.
The Guild Master, Gunther, leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Ming... I see." He looked at Leon with a new, assessing gaze.
"Who is he?" Leon asked.
"He is a friend of the Guild," Gunther said, his tone making it clear that the conversation was over. "A very strong friend. His recommendation is not something I can ignore. We will test you immediately."
Leon was led to a sterile training room with a large crystal target at one end. A bored-looking examiner waited for them.
"Two paths for registration, kid," the examiner grunted. "Warrior or Mage. The Warrior test measures physical strength and combat skills. The Mage test measures mana output and quality of spells. You can choose your path freely. However, you can only choose one"
'Warrior, obviously,' Leon thought. 'My body is my true weapon. This will be simple.'
Just as he was about to speak, a red notification flashed in his mind.
[ALERT: Host's primary cultivation method, 'Divine Titan Body Sutra', is currently sealed. Its growth is directly linked to 'Necromancy Level'. To increase physical power, Host MUST increase Necromancy Level. Path selection is critical. Selecting 'Warrior' will not contribute to Necromancy Level progression.]
Leon froze. The system's message was a bucket of ice water. His path to regaining his true, overwhelming strength was chained to the one thing he was weakest at. It was a cosmic joke of the highest order. He had to swallow his pride.
"...Mage," he forced the word out, the taste of it bitter in his mouth.
The examiner raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Very well. Stand here."
He pointed at a ball of metal and chanted a basic spell. The ball started rotating at a steady pace in the air.
"Hit the ball of metal with your strongest spell. You get ten tries." The examiner instructed Leon and stepped back.
"You can do it, Leon!" Kira cheered in his mind.
Leon took a deep breath, focused, and cast his spell. "Dark Fire Bolt."
A small, sputtering ball of black-purple fire shot from his hand and fizzled out halfway to the target. The examiner sighed and looked at his watch. Leon tried again. This time, the bolt flew wide, smacking into the wall.
The examiner shook his head as Leon failed try after try, some fizzled out, while others were off target.
"Damn it, I have been practicing for so long. Am I going to fail like this?"
On his final try, pouring every ounce of his concentration into the spell, a weak, wavering bolt of dark fire flew across the room, but it appeared that it would miss the ball again.
The speed was simply too slow.
"Damn it, go faster." Leon, frustrated this time, punched the air with all his might.
Bang!