Ace turned and headed for the door. Upon opening it, he found the receptionist waiting nearby. Her eyes radiated pride—she didn't need to ask or even glance at the paper. The sound of the stamp had told her everything.
That sound was more than metal hitting paper. It was an announcement—the welcoming of a new adventurer.
She gently reached out and accepted the paper from him, giving it a quick glance before looking up at him with a soft smile. She said nothing, but her eyes held something else—a mix of respect and professional admiration.
Her feelings toward him, in that moment, were unlike those she had for other adventurers. None of them had ever passed all three tests so flawlessly. It was clear: this young man was no ordinary applicant. He had a bright future ahead—as a true adventurer. That's what the employee thought anyway.
After that, the two of them descended to the administrative floor. The moment Ace's feet touched the ground, Emilia leapt from her seat and hurried toward him, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Her gaze alone could have said everything, but even so, she asked with burning eagerness:
"How did it go?"
Ace smiled faintly and simply nodded without uttering a word. That was enough to dispel all the anxiety in her heart at once. In that moment, her features lit up with joy, her smile widened until it seemed to radiate pure pride and happiness, and her heart danced with delight over this awaited success.
At that moment, a staff member opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a small, rectangular metallic piece, no larger than the palm of a hand. Its surface was smooth and slightly reflective. She gently placed it on the desk, then raised both her palms slightly above it.
She closed her eyes, as if diving into a deep state of concentration. Her features tensed slightly, as though summoning some hidden force. The scene resembled the beginning of a ritual. Ace couldn't help but stare with fascination, his eyes flicking between the metallic piece and the staff member's lips as she muttered unintelligible words. Then, Emilia whispered with excitement, explaining:
"She's preparing your adventurer identification card."
Hearing that, Ace stepped closer, eager to witness how this blank metal piece would transform into a personal ID without the use of any tools.
Soon, a warm glow began to emanate from between the woman's palms, accompanied by a faint white steam rising from the metal surface, carrying the scent of heated iron. Ace realized that what he was witnessing wasn't ordinary—it was magic, something new to him, made visible in its most captivating form. On the metal's surface, strange inscriptions and symbols began to form slowly, as if being etched from nothingness, in the same script used in this civilization. Ace couldn't look away, his eyes wide with the wonder of a child seeing magic for the first time, mesmerized by every detail, every flicker, and every wisp of steam.
For him, this was his first real encounter with magic. It wasn't a lesson or a combat technique—it was something visual, unfolding before his eyes. Meanwhile, Emilia watched him with a joyful look. She wanted to tell him that the magic used in the process was earth-elemental, a rare skill known as metal inscription, mastered by few and required for staff on this floor. Still, she chose silence, letting him savor the moment in quiet admiration of this mysterious power. She simply covered her mouth with her hand to contain her overflowing joy as she watched the expressions on his face—expressions rarely seen on any grown man.
Moments later, the staff member finished the inscription process. She exhaled deeply, as if shedding the burden of hard work. She gently dabbed her forehead with a silk handkerchief, leaving behind a trace of warm floral perfume mingled with the scent of hot metal. Then, with delicate hands, she picked up the metallic piece she had crafted, held it up to her eyes, and examined it closely—her gaze gliding over every detail like an artist evaluating her masterpiece before presenting it.
A few moments of silence passed before her features finally softened. A smile of relief formed on her face, blending pride with satisfied weariness. Then, with a composed and respectful gesture, she extended both hands and offered the metallic piece with a proud smile, her voice formal yet warm:
"Here you go, Mr. Ace. This is your identification card. From this moment on, you are officially an Iron-rank adventurer. Welcome to the Trust Guild!"
Upon receiving the card, Ace turned it over slowly in his hands, inspecting the fine edges and its smooth surface that reflected the room's light in silence. It radiated a sense of formality, as though it hadn't merely been crafted, but sculpted with great care. The engravings on it were not random—they followed an artistic pattern that hinted at a long tradition in adventurer ID card crafting.
But what astonished him more than the card's quality was something he hadn't anticipated—his own image. His features, the details of his face, were etched onto the card with stunning precision. It wasn't just his name or an identification number—it was a near-lifelike portrait, as if someone had spent hours painting him with the brush of a master artist. He knew well that capturing human features required far more effort than writing or ornamentation. How could it be done with such detail? With such technique?
The staff member then pulled out a thin metal chain, dark gray in color, and attached it to a small medallion bearing the guild's emblem. She handed it to Ace with a smile, giving him his adventurer's badge.
Emilia had been watching the whole scene in silence, but her eyes gleamed with a mix of emotions. When she saw the ID card in his hands and the adventurer's badge resting on his chest, a warm wave of pride surged through her, flowing like a current of memories. She hadn't expected that bringing him to the guild would stir such feelings in her. Yet, in that moment, as she watched him standing before her, she felt as though she had returned to something she had always belonged to.
For a brief moment, it felt like she had never left the adventurers' circle, despite the many years that had passed since her small feet last stepped into the guild. She wondered what the true reason was behind this sudden nostalgia. Was it her constant interaction with adventurers visiting her shop? Or was there something special—something inexplicable—about the young man himself? She found no clear answer, but she felt that knowing him had changed something inside her—something she couldn't quite define.
After a moment, Ace looked up at the staff member and asked in a soft voice, tinged with curiosity:
"Does the ID card grant any special privileges?"
The staff member smiled and nodded before beginning a detailed explanation. She told him that the cards weren't just identification—they could open city gates, grant entry into other kingdoms and regions without the usual travel tolls. In essence, despite their simple appearance, they served as a passport of sorts for adventurers—a formal recognition by the guilds of their status and role in society.
After her explanation, Emilia raised a finger to add something that hadn't yet been mentioned:
"It's true they don't pay entry fees, but foreign adventurers are taxed on the rewards they earn."
She said it in a seasoned tone, then continued:
"Guilds deduct taxes directly from the adventurers' earnings and forward them to local governments. That way, adventurers aren't burdened with accounting—they're terrible at it anyway—and it keeps the relationship between guilds and the countries in steady balance."
Ace listened attentively. He hadn't realized that a simple card carried behind it such a complex system of international agreements and responsibilities. It became clear to him that the adventurers' world was much deeper than he had imagined.
The staff member then continued enriching the new adventurer's understanding, explaining in detail:
"It's worth mentioning that the volume of requests and their corresponding rewards vary from one country to another, based on local and societal conditions. In countries plagued—unfortunately—by numerous problems, requests are constantly increasing. People flock to submit complaints and summon brave adventurers capable of intervening. Yet, despite this rise in demand, the rewards tend to be limited, sometimes even modest. That's simply because so many adventurers are willing to accept requests, even when the pay doesn't match the effort. This competition drives them to accept anything just to stay active. On the other hand, the situation is completely different in countries that enjoy relative peace or where unusual incidents are rare. In such places, request boards are rarely updated and may remain empty for days. Adventurers are few because there's little need for them. However, despite the scarcity of requests, those that do appear carry significant value—generous rewards, not just in money, but sometimes fame, influence, or even special privileges. Still, due to the small number of adventurers, these requests are more selective and demand high competence and notable experience."