Urue Everhour took the evaluation the results were:
Speed: B+, Strength: D-, Mental Stamina: A, core capacity: A, Spirit core: none, Affinity: Fire, Air and Water.
The woman in charge of the Raiders ID Card congratulate Urue Everhour and told him Core capacity means he has the potential to cultivate and he should come back next week.
Days passed.
07:45, Saturday 7th of April 1218.
Urue Everhour gaze was on his time teller why walking on the road.
The morning sky was a soft wash of pale gold, the first light gently pushing away the lingering shadows of night.
A quiet dawn stretched across the horizon, the air cool and still, kissed with the faintest whisper of sunbeams.
To receive a Raider's ID, Urue Everhour was told he had to participate in a one-on-one duel during the Duel Stage.
The Duel Stage was square, reminiscent of a wrestling ring, but without ropes and ring. A referee stood in the green grass of the stage, waiting.
Urue Everhour and the rest of the Dragon's Breath members sat near the exit. The stage had two doors: an entrance at the bottom and an exit accessible via a white-carpeted staircase leading to the top of the stage. Neither had actual doors just door frames covered by white curtains. "Enter" was written above the first frame, while "Exit" marked the other.
Two duels were scheduled before Urue's: the first between Lucius Grey and Marcus Robin, and the second between Ann Arbor and Sylvia Grey. Finally, it would be Edward Smith versus Urue Everhour.
Urue analyzed the upcoming battles quietly. It seems today will be interesting, he thought, sitting alongside Lionel and the squad.
The first duel began. Lucius Grey and Marcus Robin emerged from the entrance curtain and stepped onto the stage. The referee announced their names: "Lucius Grey, age fifteen, and Marcus Robin, age seventeen." Lucius had an average appearance, while Marcus seemed slightly unremarkable.
"You may begin," the referee said.
The whistle blew.
"Exchange." Lucius's voice was low, barely audible. Only a few nearby spectators caught the word.
Standing ten steps away from Marcus, Lucius made his move. In a flash, he swapped positions with a rock near Marcus's feet. The sudden shift was seamless. Marcus's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, Lucius had already closed the distance.
In an instant, he appeared directly in front of Marcus. With fluid precision, Lucius slipped beneath Marcus's right armpit. Before Marcus could react, a blade flashed Lucius sliced across his stomach and immediately retreated six steps behind him.
Marcus spun, throwing a powerful punch that struck nothing but empty air.
Lucius flicked his wrist, sending a dagger flying. As it closed in on Marcus, Lucius thought Double Exchange. The dagger disappeared and reappeared behind Marcus's head.
Simultaneously, Lucius teleported, gripping the dagger mid-air, and drove it straight into Marcus's shoulder.
Without hesitation, he leapt back five steps, then sprinted forward again. A swift kick connected with Marcus's neck, and his eyes rolled back. His body collapsed, limp and bleeding.
The match was over. Marcus lay unconscious, blood seeping where he had fallen.
Whispers rippled through the audience:
"I'd like to recruit him to our squad. With a genius like that, more missions could be completed."
"With techniques like those, he'll probably earn an A-rank."
"He's not that strong… his opponent was just weak."
"…If I faced him, I'd definitely lose."
The second match was about to begin whem Lionel turned to Leywin and smiled as he said when it's your turn don't disappoint me.
The contestants' names and ages were announced: Ann Arbor, age fifteen, and Sylvia Grey, age twelve.
The moment their names were announced, the arena fell into an expectant hush. Even the murmurs of the crowd dimmed as all eyes turned toward the next duel.
Sylvia Grey stepped forward first. Her expression was calm, composed, and unreadable. The fitted robes she wore hugged her frame but allowed full mobility, hinting at someone who trained extensively in movement. Her sharp eyes scanned her opponent with precision, betraying none of the slightest hesitation. To the untrained eye, she might have seemed fragile, but her presence alone carried weight.
At just twelve years old, Sylvia appeared almost delicate—short silver hair framed her face, her build slender, and her hands empty. Yet every motion she made radiated quiet authority, an unspoken confidence born of training beyond her years.
Her opponent, a silent caster mage, mirrored her calm demeanor. No words were exchanged; neither flinched. Only the tension between them filled the space, a palpable current that made the air thick.
The referee raised his hand high. "Begin!"
Sylvia vanished.
Gasps erupted from the audience.
"She disappeared?!"
Ann's eyes narrowed, but she didn't panic.
Sylvia reappeared mid-air, twisting her body just enough to avoid being impaled. She landed lightly, already moving again, as more stone spikes emerged in her path.
Ann took a single step back.
She lifted her hand slightly. The air compressed, a visible pressure building like an invisible wall, surging toward Sylvia.
The force slammed into Sylvia. She was sent flying; her head nearly collided with the ground. But as the arena floor split open beneath her, a hole formed and she fell into it.
In an instant, Sylvia reappeared behind Ann.
Too close.
Ann reacted instantly. Four tornadoes of wind whipped around her, forming a swirling shield.
A stone spike shot from the hole toward her—but it was blown aside by the tornadoes.
Another hole opened beneath Ann. She fell again into the darkness.
Then a light appeared. Sylvia stood beside her, the tip of a jagged stone spike aimed at Ann's chest.
"Ah…ah…ahh…"
Ann's eyes widened in panic as the spike pierced the air near her heart.
Before she could recover, Sylvia's knee struck the back of her leg. Ann collapsed to the ground with a painful grunt.
Sylvia pressed the stone spike lightly against Ann's throat, her expression calm and detached.
The arena fell silent.
"I could've ended it anytime I wanted," Sylvia said evenly. "But this is just a duel. You were never my match to begin with."
She stepped back and lowered her weapon.
The referee froze for half a second before shouting:
"Winner—Sylvia Grey!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and whispers.
Like brother, like sister two birds of the same color.
"She's just twelve and so… cold," murmured a spectator.
Urue Everhour felt a chill crawl up his spine.
The third match was about to start. Lionel and the rest of the squad leaned toward Urue Everhour, offering words of encouragement.
His opponent stepped into the arena: a tall boy with rippling muscles and a confident grin.
"Edward Smith," the referee announced. "Age fifteen."
Urue Everhour stepped forward.
"Leywin Loid. Age fifteen."
Edward cracked his knuckles.
"My spirit core gives me massive strength," he said proudly. "Try not to break too easily."
The bell rang.
Edward charged.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he unleashed a punch strong enough to shatter stone.
Urue Everhour barely dodged. He's strong… far stronger than me.
Edward pressed the attack relentlessly. Each strike carried the force to demolish stone, but Leywin's body moved on instinct alone. He dodged, twisted, and countered, never fully committing, conserving his stamina.
Then he noticed something.
Edward's attacks were gradually slowing. The boy's power came at a cost every miss drained his stamina.
Urue Everhour adjusted his breathing, tightened his footwork, and stretched the battle out.
Five minutes passed.
Edward's movements grew sluggish. His arms trembled with each swing, his breathing became ragged, labored.
Leywin remained calm. Expressionless. Controlled. He revealed no flaw, no hesitation, from the start of the battle until now.
The moment Edward overextended himself, Urue Everhour struck.
A precise blow to the ribs.
A sweeping kick to the legs.
A final strike to the chest.
Edward collapsed.
The arena, previously filled with spectators complaining about Leywin's evasive style, fell completely silent.
Urue Everhour stood still, one foot resting on Edward's chest, untouched and unscathed.
"Winner!" the announcer declared, stunned. "Leywin Loid!"
Days later, a worker from the Raider's Guild arrived at Urue Everhour's doorstep, carrying a small, neatly wrapped package. The worker's expression was professional, almost detached, as if delivering this was routine.
Dew hung heavy on every surface, and a drizzle whispered against the windows, the sky a steady sheet of leaden clouds.
The morning opened with a gentle rain, the sky an endless canvas of slate that pressed softly on the waking town.
Urue Everhour opened the package carefully. Inside, he found two green card and a green ring.
One of the cards bore his name and title: Leywin Loid – B Rank Raider. The designation was clear, official, and carried the weight of the Guild's recognition.
Urue picked up the green ring, feeling its subtle hum against his fingers.
The other card, smaller it was the Raiders Licence, it is used to accept missions and go to places people aren't allowed to go in the Raiders Guild likely contained instructions or access privileges for future assignments.
Holding the B-Rank card, Leywin allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. This was only the beginning.
In this world, ranks, fame, and status determined a person's worth.
It wasn't common for a newcomer to receive such a rating, but the guild assessed combat ability, contributions, achievements and combat experience above all else.
From F to S rank, raiders could only enter dungeons at or below their rank except for S-ranks, who could enter any dungeon.
F-ranks, known as failures, could only raid F-rank dungeons, relying on numbers rather than strength.
The only way to rise through the ranks was by accumulating achievements, participating in Raider and completing daily raids.
Leywin stared at his guild license card and Raider ID Card. To other, it was just an ordinary card.
But to Leywin (Urue Everhour), it was a new beginning.
And this time, he would carve his own path.