The office of the guildmaster had been a veritable fortress made from memory and legend.
The room had been cavernous, the ceiling held aloft by heavy wooden beams that rose like the bones of some long-dead monster. The stench of the room was irrevocable: old parchment and leather polished to a high sheen, the metallic tang of iron from long-since-cleaned swords that had not been forgotten, and the scent of a man who had lived through enough wars to last an eternity.
The walls told the story of battle itself through steel and scars. Against the left wall rested a powerful jet black greatsword. The armor plates were battle-worn, bearing the scars of blows received and wars survived. Against the wall opposite it was the double-headed axe. The red blades were jagged and cruel. The axe hummed with leftover battle fervor. The thing was hungry for new battle. The walls were alive with the scent of battle.
These relics were interspersed with trophies and keepsakes: creased banners of hostile guilds, cracked shields bearing claw marks, and yellowed scrolls bearing the signatures of adventuring companies long since forgotten. The paintings showed weary but victorious faces or joyful groups mingling in celebration of victories. Through them all appeared one figure.
At the center of the office was seated Zarukatsu Stormrend.
The guildmaster's oak desk overflowed with topographical maps, supply manifests, and stamps of various important officials. Behind it, he towered in a kind of perpetual menace. The man himself was a giant. He had broad shoulders that spoke of his size as much as his weight. His very aura weighed as much as the armory of heavy weaponry he had on his walls. His flaming red hair had been braided back. His rugged face told of his life of combat. His beard had been closely trimmed. The only thing that truly emphasized his rugged nature was the ragged X-shaped battle wound on his cheek. His leather armor had been blackened. His chest bore the symbol of his order: a wounded dragon transfixed by a highsword.
The Berserker's attention was focused on a manifest of supplies with an intensity that had his work-calloused fingers tracing across the page as though he were committing each detail to memory. His intensity had been so great that when his office door suddenly swung open, the sound of wood and steel meeting stone made his face ripple with irritation.
"Guild Master! Guild Master!"
Emera stormed into the assembly room with her usually calm face flushed and her green locks sticking out of place. She grasped two sheets of parchment against her chest as her erratic fingers trembled. The sound of her gasping exhaled like a ringing bell through the spacious room.
The eyes of Zarukatsu slowly lifted, unreadable.
"What is it now, Emera?"
His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"What's so important that you almost broke my door?"
The elf stopped his slide at his desk, leaning on it heavily as her chest heaved with ragged gasps of breath. Her eyes, always calm and professional behind her desk at home, were wide with an almost childish combination of awe and unbelieving shock.
"Just. just see for yourself!"
she stammered, thrusting the papers forward as though they burned her hands.
The guildmaster received the pages delicately, though his hands were large and gnarled. As he read on, his expression turned thoughtful.
His eyebrows knotted on the first page, his quick eyes narrowing critically. But then his gaze moved on to page two. For an instant, the world stopped turning.
Zarukatsu Stormrend, veteran of countless wars, killer of beasts that bards sang about in fearful reverence, froze. His chest rose in a sharp intake of air. He scanned the paper again, then again, as though sheer repetition might undo what was written. His posture shifted as a surge of energy coursed through him, the kind he hadn't felt in years.
The chair shrieked on the floorboards as he got up. His size made the walls seem smaller.
"By the gods,".
He muttered, his voice low but full of reverence. Then, louder and more booming than anything he had yet attempted:
"Where are these people?! I need to meet them immediately!"
Emera straightened, her own awe intensifying. She had been braced for surprise, but this thunderous urgency daunted her.
"They're still in the appraisal room, Guild Master!"
She said, her voice a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
"Come on, we can't keep them waiting!"
---
In the calm of the appraisal chamber, however, Yukio's eyes were still fixed on the door that Emera had sprinted out of.
"So. what just happened?"
He muttered, scratching his head, his voice halfway between confusion and disbelief.
The calm figure of Michibiki, standing by the crystal, smiled faintly. In her eyes, there was a spark of knowledge that reminded one of a tutor witnessing a student discover an immense truth without grasping the full significance of it.
"What happened",
she said calmly,
"one thing that both of us made perfectly clear. My talents. I'm expected to have them. As an angel, I've always had immense power. But you--"
She turned her head towards him, her smile growing deeper to almost teasing depths,
"Lord Fukui really spoiled you thoroughly. Having that kind of ability and mastering the six elements the way you do just doesn't happen."
Yukio snapped his fingers. The act had a defiant sound in the silence of the room.
"Yeah, right. So tell me this, how do I even use my abilities? Because right now, I don't feel any different."
Michibiki's playful glint brightened.
"What would you do without me?"
"Win big at cards, maybe,"
He smirked.
" Summon the system in your mind. Think the words 'Summon System,' and your attributes will appear before you."
Yukio rolled his eyes.
"So I'm essentially talking to myself. That's great. I could have used the angels' wisdom instead of these silly costume outfits."
The jab connected. Her calm face flushed instantly as her cheeks turned crimson.
"I am not a cosplayer!"
She cried out and marched towards him to pinch his cheeks with both hands.
"Take that back! Take it back right now!"
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry
Yukio laughed outright, wincing at the unexpected strength of her fingers as they pushed his cheeks out. Finally managing to pry her hands loose, he spoke in a gentled voice.
"Seriously, though. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."
She stopped blinking at him. Then her shoulders drooped. Her pout softened. Her anger melted away into relief.
"You'd better mean that."
Before Yukio could respond, the door creaked open.
The door full of shadows opened, and into it strode Zarukatsu Stormrend. His massive frame dwarfed the room as he swept into it like an avalanche of power. At his back came Emera, still full of shuttered adoration.
She went to Yukio and Michibiki first. She kept her hands clasped in front of her.
"Michibiki, Yukio. Oh, and I almost forgot. This
Both Yukio and Michibiki bowed automatically, moving as one. But only the immense Zarukatsu waved a huge hand.
"No need for all that formal nonsense,"
He said, his voice low but oddly warm. His sharp gaze settled on them both, lingering on Yukio with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine.
"I'll admit, I didn't expect two people with such divine talents to register here. That either takes courage or foolhardiness."
Then, with a sudden laugh—deep and booming—the tension cracked.
"But I like both kinds of people. If you're here, you're family. Our guild has your back from now on."
"Thank you for your kind words,".
Michibiki replied with practiced composure.
"We won't disappoint."
Zarukatsu nodded crisply, but Yukio sensed a flicker of almost childish excitement lurking behind his battle-hardened gaze. For a man who had seen it all, perhaps the impossible had surprised him once more.
---
Later, at the guild's front desk, Emera returned carrying two porcelain cards. They gleamed faintly, white as moonlight with a subtle iridescent sheen. Inscribed upon them were their names: Michibiki and Yukio Yoshino. Their occupation: Adventurer. Their starting rank: F.
"You may both have divine talents,"
Emera explained carefully, handing them their cards,
"But of course, all adventurers start at the bottom. The more quests you complete, the higher your rank. F-Rank is only the starting point."
She pointed towards a huge plate on the wall bearing seven slots. Each slot contained an insignia of a character that varied from F to the mythical character of S.
Yukio turned the card face up in his hands, a gambler's smile playing on his lips.
"Well, what kind of quests do we newbies have on the horizon?"
Emera made quite a stack of parchment requests. Michibiki grabbed a paper from around the middle of that stack before Yukio could look at the first request.
"We'll take this one,"
She said that, her calm conviction with no space for an argument.
Emera looked down at the paper. Just a simple hunting quest for slime. She stamped her acceptance of the guild's request on it and returned it.
"Slimes may seem harmless, but do not underrate them. Prepare adequate equipment before going out. The world outside of this town is unforgiving."
Michibiki's smile broadened, serene but determined.
"We'll be ready."
Yukio tucked the paper of the quest into his pocket. His gambler senses were already itching. Slimes or not, it's his first real deal in the game of the world. And he had every intention of playing it out.