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Chapter 6
Silverstream revealed itself at dawn.
Ren sat at the back of the creaking carriage, peering past the wooden slats as the morning mist slowly lifted. Stone walls emerged first—tall, gray, and scarred by age—followed by watchtowers crowned with fluttering banners bearing a symbol he didn't recognize: a crossed sword and quill enclosed in a circle.
A town, not a village.
Not grand enough to be called a city, but far larger and more alive than Oakhaven could ever hope to be.
"This is Silverstream," Kael said from the front seat, his voice carrying a note of relief. "Trade town. Adventurers, merchants, guild folk… keep your eyes open, Ren."
Ren already was.
Using Appraisal discreetly, he scanned everything within sight.
Silverstream Outer Wall
Durability: High
Mana Reinforcement: Moderate
Notes: Repaired frequently. Evidence of monster pressure.
That alone told him enough. This place saw danger regularly.
The coachman guiding the horses—Darin—shifted slightly in his seat. His movements were stiff, deliberate, like a man constantly compensating for pain. The sword at his side was worn but well-maintained, its grip wrapped in old leather darkened by sweat and age.
Ren's gaze lingered on it.
Ex-Adventurer Darin
Rank (Former): Bronze Tier
Status: Retired (Injury – Right Leg, Mana Scarring)
Adventurer Card: Valid (Expiring Soon)
Notes: Experience outweighs current strength.
So it was true.
Darin noticed the look and chuckled dryly. "You've got sharp eyes for a kid."
Ren smiled innocently. "My father says swords are important."
"They are," Darin replied. "Even more so when magic fails you."
That sentence stuck.
As the carriage passed through the gates, the sounds of Silverstream crashed into Ren like a wave—vendors shouting, metal clanging, voices arguing, laughter, and the distant roar of something large and alive.
Life.
Oakhaven had been quiet. Safe. Stagnant.
This place pulsed with opportunity—and danger.
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The Guild of Three Paths
The carriage stopped before a massive stone building near the town's center. Unlike the surrounding wooden shops, this structure looked permanent, fortified, and important.
Above its entrance hung a large emblem: three interlocking symbols—a book, a coin, and a sword.
Kael exhaled slowly. "The Guild."
Ren tilted his head. "The adventurer guild?"
Kael nodded. "Official name is the Triarc Guild. Three paths. Three purposes."
Darin climbed down carefully, favoring his injured leg. "Most outsiders only know one part of it," he added. "The sword."
He pointed with his chin.
"The Sword Hall—missions, monster subjugation, escort jobs. That's where adventurers work."
Then the book. "The Arcanum Wing. Schools, magic education, theory. Where kids with talent go if they've got the coin or the backing."
Finally, the coin. "And the Trade Exchange. Buying, selling, appraisals. Where money changes hands… and where most people get cheated."
Ren's eyes gleamed.
Kael scratched the back of his neck. "We don't have a guild card. Means we sell as outsiders."
Ren already knew what that meant.
Outsider Transaction Penalty: –20%
Darin reached into his coat and pulled out a thin metal plate etched with his name and rank. The edges were worn smooth.
"I still do," he said quietly. "Expires in a month, but it's valid."
Kael stared. "You sure?"
Darin shrugged. "Card's useless to me soon anyway. Injury won't heal. Might as well use it one last time."
Ren watched closely.
This man wasn't just helping out of kindness. There was resignation there. A man who had reached the end of one road.
And Ren was just stepping onto his.
---
Payment and Trust
Inside the Trade Exchange, the air smelled of parchment, ink, and metal. Clerks moved briskly between counters, magic lamps illuminating long tables where goods were inspected and priced.
Kael laid out the sacks of dried herbs, visibly tense.
A clerk glanced at the goods, then at Kael. "Outsider?"
"Yes."
"Standard deduction applies."
Before Kael could reply, Darin placed his guild card on the counter.
The clerk's demeanor changed instantly.
"Guild member transaction accepted."
Ren noticed it immediately—the subtle shift in respect.
Money followed power.
Minutes later, Kael left the counter stunned, clutching a pouch far heavier than he had expected.
"I thought we'd lose a fifth," he muttered.
Darin smiled faintly. "You would've."
Kael turned serious. "I owe you."
"Then remember this," Darin replied. "Guild cards open doors. Without one, you're always paying more than you should."
Ren memorized every word.
---
Eyes on the Sword Hall
As they exited, Ren's attention drifted toward the Sword Hall entrance. Adventurers came and went—some armored, some bloodied, some laughing loudly.
Appraisal flickered repeatedly in his mind.
Bronze. Iron. A few Silvers.
Then—
Hobgoblin Fang (Trophy Display)
Threat Rank: Bronze Elite
Notes: Confirms regional goblin evolution.
A mounted jawbone displayed near the entrance.
So hobgoblins were known here. Recognized. Dangerous, but not legendary.
Ren clenched his fist.
The goblin they'd fought on the road hadn't been an anomaly. It had been a warning.
Kael noticed Ren staring. "That place isn't for children."
"Yet," Ren replied softly.
Kael didn't hear him.
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Nightfall Resolve
They settled into a modest inn as dusk fell. Ren lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything he'd learned.
The guild wasn't just a building. It was a system.
Knowledge. Power. Money.
All controlled.
If he wanted to grow—truly grow—he needed access to all three paths.
And for that…
He needed a guild card.
Outside, Silverstream buzzed late into the night.
Ren closed his eyes, mana stirring quietly within him.
This town wasn't the end of his journey.
It was the first real step.
And this time, the world had noticed his arrival.