Floor 20 — Eldrinor — Legion's Guild
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the bustling Legion's Guild, where adventurers of all kinds hurried about their business. Some clustered around the reception desks, registering for new quests, while others exchanged stories of their exploits over steaming mugs of ale. Among them was Adonis, his worn black coat and scuffed boots marking him as a man who had seen his share of battles.
With a determined stride, he approached one of the receptionists—a blonde-haired woman who offered him a polite smile. "Hello," Adonis said, returning the gesture. "I'm here to register."
The receptionist handed him a form, which he filled out meticulously. However, the process dragged on until evening, testing his patience. By the time he finished, the guild hall had quieted, the crowd thinning as adventurers retired for the night.
As Adonis stepped outside, the cool evening air brushed against his face. A thought struck him—the short sword he had used during his last mission, the one he'd wielded to retrieve the rare flower, was now broken. He needed a replacement.
His boots echoed against the cobblestones as he made his way to the blacksmith's shop. The sign above the entrance was plain, almost laughably so: *Blacksmith's Shop*.
"Guess the owner was too lazy to give it a better name," Adonis muttered, shrugging. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The shop was a treasure trove of weapons, each displayed behind polished glass with intricate designs that spoke of craftsmanship. An attendant in a crisp suit finished assisting another customer before turning his attention to Adonis. His eyes flickered over Adonis's shabby coat and worn boots, and his lips curled into a sneer.
"What's a beggar doing here?" the attendant scoffed, striding forward. "Excuse me, but this isn't a place for your kind to just wander into."
Adonis's jaw tightened. "I'm not a beggar. I'm here to buy a sword."
The attendant laughed. "With what money? The coins you scraped together from begging?"
Ignoring the insult, Adonis kept his voice steady. "Are you going to sell me a weapon or not?"
The attendant's smirk faltered, replaced by irritation. "No. You think beggars can just demand whatever they want? The world doesn't work that way."
Adonis exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "I said I'm not a beggar. If this is how you treat customers, then I see no reason to stay."
As he turned to leave, a deep voice called out, "Wait."
Adonis paused and glanced back. A burly man stood there, clad in a black leather apron over a dirt-streaked white shirt. His hands were rough from years at the forge, and his eyes held a keen intensity.
"You said you're here for a sword," the man stated.
Adonis nodded. "Yes."
"Good. Then come with me."
The attendant sputtered, "But Master—"
"Shut up," the man snapped. "This one's different."
Without another word, he led Adonis downstairs into a hidden chamber. The room was filled with swords, each bearing the weight of time. Some were rusted, others emanated an eerie aura of death, and a few seemed to hum with dormant power.
"Pick whichever suits you," the man said.
Before Adonis could ask for his name, the man supplied it. "Gaius."
Adonis blinked. "Huh?"
"My name is Gaius."
"Okay, Mr. Gaius—"
"Just Gaius," the man interrupted. "Now, choose."
Adonis stepped forward, his fingers brushing against the hilts of the swords as he inspected them. One in particular caught his attention—a sheathed blade that seemed to call to him. The moment he lifted it, a voice echoed in his mind:
*"Second Condition has been met."*
Adonis whirled around, searching for the source of the voice, but saw no one. "Did you say something?" he asked Gaius.
Gaius shook his head. "No."
Frowning, Adonis examined the sword again. "I'll take this one."
He gripped the hilt and tried to draw the blade, but it refused to budge. He strained with all his might, yet the sword remained sealed in its sheath.
"Do you know what this sword is?" Adonis asked, panting slightly.
Gaius shrugged. "No. The shop was passed down from my father. I don't know how he acquired it."
Adonis hesitated. "How much for it?"
Gaius waved a hand. "Take it. It's free."
"Thank you, Mr.—"
"Gaius. Just Gaius," the man repeated, cutting him off.
As Adonis turned to leave, Gaius called after him, "You should consider changing into a more suitable outfit."
Adonis glanced down at his tattered coat and smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."
With the mysterious sword in hand, he stepped out into the night, unaware of the destiny that now clung to him like a shadow.