The sky was still dark when Adonis stood in front of the gate, his black cloak gently swaying in the cold morning wind.
His gear was packed. Mask tucked inside his cloak. Sword strapped to his side. Storage bracelet pulsing faintly on his wrist. There were no servants around, no horses ready, no fanfare or ceremony.
He had chosen to leave quietly.
He already told them he was leaving but he still feel sad leaving without a word.
Just before the gates, he turned around one last time to look at the mansion — his home. The windows were dim, curtains drawn, and not a sound stirred inside. His parents were still asleep… or pretending to be.
He knew they wouldn't stop him, but he also knew it broke their hearts.
After that he boarded the carriage.
.....
The wheels of the carriage creaked to a stop.
Adonis stepped down into a city unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Shangila — the Trade Capital. Noisy, chaotic, full of life. Carts clattered down stone streets. Merchants shouted in a dozen accents. The air was a blend of spices, grilled meat, and damp stone. Everything about this place pulsed with purpose.
He adjusted his mask — a simple white design, featureless except for thin black lines across the eyes — and stepped into the crowd. Compared to his quiet countryside manor, this place was overwhelming. But that was exactly why he'd come here. To grow. To disappear.
To begin.
"Adventurer's Guild… should be the biggest building here," Adonis murmured, spotting a stone-walled structure ahead with a metal emblem hanging over tall oak doors.
A few minutes later, after a brief encounter with city guards — easily handled by flashing his Viscount family's emblem — he walked inside.
The Adventurer's Guild was loud, filled with clanking armor, laughter, the scent of sweat and alcohol, and dozens of eyes sizing each other up.
He made his way to the front counter.
The receptionist, a confident woman in her twenties with emerald earrings and smart eyes, glanced at his mask. She'd seen worse. She offered a professional smile.
"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. Here to register?"
"Yes," Adonis replied simply.
She handed him a form. "Write down your name, profession, any notable skills, and a few other basics. Registration fee is 30 bronze coins."
Adonis placed a silver coin on the table.
She raised an eyebrow. "No change?"
"I don't have any bronze."
She shrugged and handed him the change anyway, but he pushed it back. "Use it to recommend a good inn. I'll be staying here for a while."
A slow smile crept onto her lips. "Polite and generous. Rare combo. Alright then. Try Agatha's Inn. Good prices, clean beds, and close to the Guild. I get a small cut, of course."
"I figured," Adonis replied, handing back the completed form.
"Smart and polite?" She leaned in and lowered her voice. "Then you'll want to steer clear of that lot—" she tilted her head toward a group at the back, where a cocky orange-haired man laughed too loud and flashed too many weapons. "They recruit newbies, then rob 'em blind after a mission. All C-rank. You're better off solo for now."
Adonis followed her eyes.
He made a mental note.
He wasn't afraid — not yet — but he wasn't stupid either.
"Thanks," he said, then walked away, eyes alert.
After asking around, he found Agatha's Inn — a modest stone-and-wood building with warm lanterns glowing in the windows.
Inside, the air smelled of stew and old wood. A middle-aged woman stood at the counter, polishing mugs.
"You must be the one Miranda sent," she said with a smile. "Name?"
" You can call me Adonis" Adonis said.
"Room on the second floor, third on the left. Two silver coins a week. Meals included if you're not picky."
Adonis nodded and paid.
That night, after settling in, he took off his mask and sat near the window, watching the city lights flicker like stars fallen to earth. He didn't know what kind of challenges awaited him in Shangila. Thieves, monsters, dungeons, or worse.
But as he wanted to adventure, experience more to hone his skills and learn more about his sword element or magic.