Becoming an adventurer Chap 12

Age: 10

Level: 5

Location: Outskirts of Fenward Village Dungeon

The morning sun hit Valen like a slap to the face.

After hours — maybe even a full day — in the stale air of the dungeon, the sudden warmth and brightness felt almost unnatural. He stepped out into the forest clearing above Fenward Dungeon, eyes squinting, breath fogging in the cool dawn air. The massive stone door behind him closed with a faint rumble, sealing the dungeon’s secrets once more.

His clothes were torn, boots scuffed, and his body bruised in too many places to count. But he was alive — and stronger than ever.

Valen adjusted the pack slung over his shoulder. Inside it, wrapped tightly in cloth and tucked beneath scraps of leather, were the spoils of his first full dungeon run: mana stones, furs, teeth, and the precious Warden’s Bone Sigil. His new sword, heavier and sharper than any he’d wielded before, hung across his back.

He let out a long breath and started down the mountain trail toward the village.

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By the time he reached the edge of the forest, the village of fenward was already stirring. Smoke drifted from chimneys. Merchants opened shutters. Chickens clucked noisily as a farmer shooed them from his cabbage rows.

Valen passed through the wooden gates with a nod to the sleepy guard stationed at the entrance.

“Back already?” the man asked, blinking. “Didn’t expect you for another week.”

Valen just smiled faintly and kept walking. His limbs still ached too much for small talk.

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The Adventurer's Guild sat near the town square, a squat stone building with a wooden sign swinging lazily above its door: "Fenwards Adventurer Guild."

Inside, the scent of ink, parchment, and steel filled the air. A few older adventurers lounged at tables, drinking bitter tea or oiling their weapons. A bulletin board near the back listed local quests — beast exterminations, lost items, herb collection. Low-rank stuff.

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Valen approached the front counter. The receptionist, a woman in her twenties with sharp eyes and a braid of chestnut hair, looked up as he approached.

“You’re one of the village kids, right?” she asked. “What can I help you with?”

“I have drops to sell,” Valen said, placing the small cloth bundle on the counter. “From the Fenward Dungeon. First floor.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You went to the first floor?”

Valen nodded. “Solo.”

That earned a pause. Then she opened the bundle and began sorting through the contents.

“Let’s see… five minor mana stones… good clarity, not chipped. Wolf pelts, decent condition. 13 ussable teeth… two broken but usable.” She glanced up. “Not bad at all for a first run. Got a guild card?”

Valen shook his head.

“No problem. We’ll register you.” She slid a simple form across the counter. “Name, age, class, and confirmation of intent. Since you're from here, no fee. Give me a second after that to appraise and log the materials.”

He filled it out quickly.

Name: Valen

Age: 10

Class: Swordsman

He didn’t mention “Legendary.”

The receptionist stamped it, handed him a small brass card, then returned to the counter.

This had his rank at Copper (low)

“Alright. For today’s haul, we’ll offer you—” she glanced at a scale and ledger “—7 silver and 2 copper. We’ll also mark your first floor clear for Fenward Dungeon. That’ll open up request access if you ever want to be assigned group hunts or monster tracking parties.”

Valen took the coins and nodded.

She watched him a moment longer. “You came back in one piece. Most kids your age don’t, if they go in at all. Be careful.”

“I plan to,” he said, tucking the pouch of silver away. “I just wanted to earn my place.”

As he turned to leave, one of the older adventurers at the side table — a grizzled man with a scar down his cheek — called out.

“Oi, kid. What sword are you carrying?”

Valen stopped. “Just something I picked up.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Looks like dungeon bonework. Don’t see that much outside of second floors.”

Valen didn’t answer. Just smiled slightly and walked out into the daylight.

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Outside, the air smelled of pine and baked bread. His silver jingled faintly in his pouch.

He had money. A weapon. A new skill. And something waiting for him down in the dark — the second floor of Fenward Dungeon, newly opened, unexplored.

But for now… he needed to rest.