The wind of the plains carried dust and light.
Hinokami walked slowly, holding the broken hilt of his sword — the only thing left of Kagehora.
The road beneath his feet was cracked and warm, as if lava had once flowed there, and now only its memory still warmed the earth.
In the distance, the city walls rose like a burnt horizon — black, gleaming, as if the very night had been poured into stone.
Above them burned the three moons — purple, blue, and blood-red — reflecting off the towers like three different eyes watching the world for centuries.
Hinokami's heart beat steady, yet tension filled his chest.
Before he even reached the gate, he felt it — a presence.
Something was watching him.
No sound, no movement — just a weight in the air, like another's breath beside his own.
He stopped, lifted his head.
The wind brushed through his hair, the dust rose, and for a moment the moons blurred in his vision.
A shiver ran down his spine.
He looked to the right — nothing.
Then to the left — only stone hills.
But the feeling wasn't a lie.
It was like a cold hand on his shoulder, vanishing just as he turned.
"You are not alone…" — something whispered inside him.
Hinokami inhaled deeply and kept walking.
He didn't love fear, but he respected it.
It was a flame — proof that he was still alive.
THE GATES OF THE CITY
The city gate loomed ahead, covered in carvings of the three moons and their shadows.
Before it stood two checkpoints.
The first was almost informal — a low stone arch and two guards leaning on their spears.
No seals, no runes, no formalities.
Only eyes — sharp and perceptive.
They didn't ask where one came from, only whether one's steps carried deceit.
Hinokami passed slowly.
One guard watched him, then murmured to the other:
"Not a threat. But he carries a storm."
The second checkpoint felt like another world entirely.
Three guards stood in heavy armor, glowing magical lines running along their shoulders.
Bronze seals hung from poles, and threads of mana flickered between the stones.
These men did not trust intuition — they demanded proof.
One, tall and dark, raised his spear.
"Name?"
"Hinokami."
"Where from?"
"From a place that no longer exists."
The guard studied him, his eyes tired rather than cruel.
"You carry no Wooden Token. Without registration, you cannot enter."
"And if I wish to register?"
"You'll go to the Adventurer's Guild — in the city center. If they accept you, you stay. If not — you leave by sunrise."
The younger guard nodded slightly.
"You're not the first to come from nowhere. But at least you don't carry darkness in your eyes. Go."
As Hinokami passed, the seals on the wall glowed briefly — as if remembering him.
THE CITY
Inside, the world was different.
The streets glowed not from torches but from mana stones embedded in the pavement.
People, beastlike creatures, and shadowy forms moved side by side — beings with human shapes but eyes that reflected the moons.
The air smelled of spices, hot iron, and ink.
Voices filled the space — merchants, blacksmiths, enchanters.
For a moment, Hinokami felt like a child wandering into a story he had never finished reading.
But the feeling of being watched persisted.
Now and then, he glanced toward rooftops and alleys between towers.
Each time he did, a chill crawled down his neck — and the presence vanished.
THE ADVENTURER'S GUILD
He stopped before a great hall with glowing runes above the entrance:
THE ADVENTURERS' GUILD OF THE THREE MOONS
The door was wood, carved with thin glowing lines — the magic of knowledge, ancient and enduring.
Hinokami stepped inside.
It was noisy but organized.
Men and women in armor and cloaks stood before large boards shining with symbols.
The air smelled of dust, ink, and coffee.
At a desk sat a woman with long black hair and eyes like drops of mercury.
Her face was gentle, her posture calm and assured — strength without arrogance.
Her skin carried a warm, sun-kissed glow, and her fingers were slender, graceful — hands that could write history or play silence like a song.
"Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild," she said with a warm smile. "New arrival, yes?"
"Yes. My name is Hinokami."
"Of course," she smiled. "I'm Lisan. I'll help you register."
She took a small wooden plaque from a drawer, carved with symbols.
"This is your Wooden Token — proof of your belonging to the guild.
Its magic will hold a fragment of your essence.
Anyone trying to read it must be stronger than you — physically, mentally, and spiritually. Otherwise, they'll see only empty wood, unless you grant it permission."
Hinokami touched it. The token pulsed gently beneath his fingers.
"Feels... alive."
"It is," she said with a smile. "This magic is older than the city — and far wiser than some who live in it."
She placed the token on an engraved circle.
The runes glowed.
"From this moment, you're registered."
Hinokami nodded, grateful.
As he was about to leave, she raised an eyebrow.
"Wait. It seems you've received a donation."
"Donation?"
"Yes. Sometimes an anonymous member leaves funds for newcomers.
You're one of the lucky ones — five gold coins."
"Is that... much or little?" he asked honestly.
Laughter rippled around them.
A few adventurers nearby chuckled. One whispered:
"The rookie doesn't even know what his life's worth."
Lisan shook her head with a soft smile.
"You really aren't from here."
She handed him a small pouch.
"One gold equals fifty silver. One silver equals fifty copper. One copper equals fifty metal shards.
And don't even think of forging them. Each coin carries a seal. If left unused for fifty years — it returns to the treasury on its own."
"Returns... on its own?"
"That's right — the magic of order."
She smiled again, faintly sad.
"The world may crumble, but money always finds its way home."
And that was the first moment Hinokami realized — this world was not just different.
It was too ordered.
Where order reigns absolute, freedom is just a flame trapped in glass.
RULES AND RANKS
"So... am I an adventurer now?"
"Not exactly," Lisan replied, pushing a strand of hair aside. "You're officially accepted. But being an 'adventurer' — that depends on your deeds, not the ink on your token."
She tapped the wooden sign between them.
"What do I gain as a member?"
"First: protection. If someone attacks you without cause, the guild can demand compensation — or a duel by law.
Second: access to jobs.
Third: legality. If you're caught outside the walls armed but without a token — they might call you a bandit.
With it, you're the guild's problem — not the city's. And that difference keeps you alive."
She leaned closer, voice lower.
"And fourth: the library. If you ever need to learn something you shouldn't know… you'll find it there."
"Sounds better than dying alone in the woods."
"Oh yes," she smiled. "Though some find that romantic."
A voice called from behind:
"Lisan, charming another newbie?"
"Leave him be," she replied without turning. "At least he's polite."
"Are there rules?"
"There are." She sighed softly. "A few simple ones:
First — never betray another member to their enemies. If you must kill them — do it face to face, not from behind.
Second — don't refuse more than three missions in a row without reason.
Third — ten percent of every reward goes to the guild. Maintenance, records... and my salary."
"Got it — don't forget the ten percent."
"If you do, trust me, the guild will remind you."
Her tone turned colder.
"Fourth — no forbidden magic within the city.
Blood magic. Demon summoning. Soul consumption.
And... overly bright manifestations of elemental fire. Depends on who sees you."
Hinokami's heart tightened.
"Understood."
She pulled a small engraved tablet.
"Ranks," she said. "Your standing in the guild's eyes."
She pointed at the first symbol — a circle with a slash.
"Metal Rank — beginners. The ones unsure whether they want to live long or die fast."
Then — three linked circles.
"Copper Rank — survivors. Allowed outside the walls."
Then — woven lines.
"Silver Rank — decision-makers.
Gold Rank — the legends."
"Anything above gold?"
Lisan hesitated.
"They say there is... a rank unmarked on any token. Something tied to one of the moons' eyes."
"The Purple Eye?" Hinokami said suddenly.
She froze.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"I... don't know. It just came to me."
"Forget it," she said finally. "Those who stared too long at the moons stopped being like us."
THE FIRST FRIEND
When Hinokami left the hall, chills crept up his spine again.
Something moved among the shadows — not darkness, but the absence of light itself.
Then it was gone.
He turned toward the mission board.
Wooden tiles pulsed softly, each holding faint magical energy.
A young man appeared beside him — messy brown hair, golden eyes ringed by sleepless shadows.
"Don't take that one," he said casually. "It's for Copper ranks. You'll die too stylishly."
"And you are...?"
"Kai," the youth grinned faintly. "Scribe, trainee mage, semi-legal archivist."
He glanced at Hinokami's token.
"Metal rookie, huh? I heard your name at the gate."
"The guild has ears everywhere?"
"The guild doesn't — I do." He laughed softly. "I record the new ones. I like knowing who'll live long enough to become a story."
His eyes lingered on Hinokami's broken hilt.
"You've lost something important, haven't you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does. Those who've lost already are less likely to lose foolishly again."
Kai led him through the city — the forges, the magic street, the bakeries, and the taverns where adventurers made and broke legends.
Each place pulsed with life, heat, and stories.
BEYOND THE WALLS
At dawn the next day, Kai knocked on his door.
"Wake up, Metal boy. First mission."
They left through the eastern gate.
The air smelled of dew and stone.
Their task was simple — gather herbs by the river.
But danger came quietly.
Growls. Heavy steps.
Goblins — stronger, corrupted by runes.
Kai raised a glowing shield.
Hinokami drew his sword — ordinary, yet something stirred within it.
The fire inside him awakened.
The blade blazed in orange-red light.
Each strike sang.
The goblins fell one by one — not burned, but freed.
When it ended, the sword cracked, turning to ash.
A voice whispered within his chest:
"Thank you... for using me as I was meant to be."
The ashes drifted away.
THE SMITH OF SMITHS
Back in the city, night had fallen.
A figure waited by the gate — wrapped in a grey cloak.
Eyes like molten silver.
"You're the one they call the Grey Watcher..."
"Watcher, yes. But not only that. I saw your flame, Hinokami — it does not burn, it seeks to understand."
"Who are you?"
"I am the Smith of Smiths — the first who ever spoke to metal.
I saw your blade's birth and its death. You do not forge to arm — you forge to heal."
He turned to leave.
"Come to me when the moons align again. I will teach you what no man should know."
A golden symbol glowed briefly on his back — the mark of the First Flame.
Hinokami looked down.
The same mark now burned faintly on his sword's hilt.
"The Smith of Smiths..." he whispered. "Teacher — or warning?"
Kai caught up to him.
"Who were you talking to?"
"A teacher," Hinokami said softly. "Or a warning."