Chapter 4 — Beneath the Adventurer’s Mask

By the next morning, Ren had everything ready.

As the third son of the Sinclair household, staying behind meant wasting his life tilling barren soil. He had already made up his mind—it was time to set his plans in motion.

His family waited for him in the main hall of the Sinclair estate.

“Don’t go, Ren-nii-san!” cried Rin, clinging to him in a tight hug.

Ren crouched down and gently ruffled her hair.

“Don’t worry, little sis. I’ll be back in time for the harvest. I’ll help Dad, just like always.”

With tiny, careful hands, she tied a blue ribbon around his wrist.

“For good luck on your journey.”

“Thanks for the charm, Rin.”

He smiled softly at her.

“When I’m out adventuring, I’ll send you presents. So be good, okay?”

Rin nodded enthusiastically, though her eyes shimmered with the tears she was trying to hold back.

Standing by one of the pillars, Rei didn’t even look at him. To him, Ren was a deserter. Just another worthless runaway shirking his duty as a commoner.

“Take care, Rei,” Ren said calmly.

No reply.

Rem, on the other hand, stepped forward and adjusted his cloak with a serious expression.

“Don’t get yourself into trouble. And if you do… come home, little brother.”

Ren nodded silently.

Finally, he turned to his parents.

“I’ll send a share of my earnings back home, to help out.”

“Don’t burden yourself with that,” his father replied. “What matters most is that you stay safe.”

His mother handed him a small box wrapped in cloth.

“It’s not much, but it should get you through to Urus. I packed whatever I could.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

He embraced them both gently.

As if he already knew… it would be a long time before he held them again.

And with that, Ren Sinclair set out for the city of Urus.

Two days of walking, makeshift camps, and the occasional run-in with bandits marked the beginning of his journey.

Eventually, by presenting his family’s insignia, he passed through the gates of the kingdom’s most prosperous trade city.

Urus stood tall and bustling. The streets overflowed with life—merchants lined every corner, hawking food, magical gear, trinkets, enchanted stones, and more.

Children kicked around balls made of cloth, and at the heart of the plaza, a golden statue of Urus—the guardian deity of commerce—stood tall, radiating wealth and blessing.

“This place is huge… I don’t remember it being this lively,” Ren muttered under his breath. “These years of peace must’ve really paid off.”

A middle-aged vendor, apron stained with sauce, called out from his stall.

“Hey there, kid!”

“You talking to me, sir?”

“Of course I am. First time in Urus?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thought so. That outfit—you're from Lumius, right? What brings you to the big city?”

“I’m here to become an adventurer,” Ren answered, smiling with what seemed like genuine excitement.

“Ha! A farm boy turning adventurer, huh? Now that’s something you don’t see every day!” the man laughed heartily.

Ren walked over, drawn by the mouthwatering smell. The vendor was grilling skewers of seasoned meat, the scent impossible to resist.

“Actually, I’m looking for adventurer work so I can apply to Maximus Academy.”

“Aim high, huh? I like that. If it’s the Adventurers’ Guild you’re after, just head down that street and take a right,” the man said, pointing down a nearby side alley with his thumb.

“Thanks, sir. How much for the skewers?”

“Three copper coins each.”

“I’ll take three, please.”

The vendor wrapped them in parchment paper. Ren handed over three silver coins.

“For your kindness—and the info.”

“You’re welcome, kid! If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

Ren walked away, biting into one of the skewers. The taste was as rich as the aroma. With determined eyes, he headed for the Adventurers’ Guild.

Every corner of the city felt alive. As he walked, he quietly mapped out the streets in his head, studying every detail like a seasoned observer.

Eventually, he arrived. The guild’s emblem stood proudly above the entrance, etched in stone and gilded in gold.

“Same crest as always,” he murmured.

The door—true to tradition—was wide open. Ren stepped inside without hesitation.

The noise inside was even louder than in the streets.

Adventurers drank, shouted, bragged. A massive mission board covered one wall, cluttered with scrolls and notes. Some rookies stared at the postings with nervous eyes; others laughed them off entirely.

At the counter, a young elf with a monocle shuffled through papers.

Ren approached.

“Excuse me, sir... where’s the receptionist?”

The elf glanced over the top of his monocle and chuckled.

“Afternoon, kid. Name’s Asdreus. I am the receptionist.”

“Huh. That’s strange. I read somewhere that guild receptionists are usually kind, beautiful women…” Ren muttered thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well… we’re not allowed to hire women anymore. Guildmaster’s fault,” Asdreus replied, glancing off to the side.

At a table nearby, an older elf clung tightly to the legs of a white-haired adventurer.

“Yura-chaaaan~!” he whimpered, rubbing his face against her thighs.

The young woman shoved him off with visible disgust and stomped on him like he was a cockroach.

“Back off, you disgusting perv.”

The old elf squealed—not in pain, but in something that definitely wasn’t pain.

Ren sighed in resignation.

“So… he’s a dirty old man.”

“Bingo,” Asdreus said with a grin. “That’s why we can’t have women working here. Not in reception, not anywhere.”

“Also,” he added, handing Ren a yellowed sheet of parchment and an inkwell, “guild policy only allows registration for those fifteen and older. Fill this out, please.”

Ren nodded and started writing:

Name: Ren Sinclair
Age: 15
Race: Human
Profession: …

“Should I write ‘Farmer’? Or maybe ‘Warrior’...?”

“If I were you, I’d go with ‘Swordsman.’ Same as Yura,” said a voice beside him.

Ren turned quickly, startled.

When did he get here? I didn’t even notice...

“Sorry, sir. You surprised me,” Ren said with a nervous smile.

The elf didn’t respond. He stared at Ren with strange intensity, as if trying to read him inside and out.

“Quit creeping the kid out, you old freak,” said the same white-haired girl from earlier, yanking the elf back by his ponytail.

“Don’t mind him,” she said to Ren. “He’s nosy, but harmless. Just... extremely weird.”

Ren stood frozen in place.

It was the first time he’d seen her up close.

Long, snow-white hair that flowed down to her waist, tinged with icy-blue highlights. Eyes of the same hue—so cold they could freeze the air with a single glance.

She wore a white kimono adorned with pale blue floral patterns. And most striking of all… a white katana rested at her waist, matching her elegant attire.

“Ren Sinclair…” she read aloud, gently plucking his registration form from the counter with her slender fingers.

Ren had no idea what to say.

He wasn’t frozen by her beauty, exactly... but rather by the familiarity she stirred in his memory.

“Y-Yes, miss… What’s your name?” he managed to ask.

The young woman turned gracefully, tucking her hair behind one ear with quiet poise.

“My name is Yura Aseina. Adamantite-ranked adventurer, SSS-class. A pleasure, Ren.”

“Hey, lovebirds! Don’t make me waste my whole afternoon,” Asdreus cut in, propping his chin up with one hand over the counter.

“Hmph, how rude… I was just trying to be nice to the newbie,” Yura muttered, cheeks flushing slightly. She turned on her heel and stormed off with swift, proud steps and her nose held high.

“Don’t mind her,” Asdreus said, handing Ren another form. “She’ll get over it.”

Ren hadn’t even noticed—Yura had taken his form with her.

“R-Right! Thank you, sir!” he stammered, quickly grabbing a quill and filling out the new one.

He handed it back with a polite nod.

Asdreus scanned the sheet with practiced efficiency.

“All right then, Ren Sinclair. On behalf of our Guildmaster, Atilius Reindhart, I hereby welcome you to the Atilius Adventurers’ Guild.”

“You’re cleared to take E- and F-rank requests.”

“From C-rank and up, you’ll need a party. No solo jobs allowed for the more dangerous stuff.”

He slid a small bronze plate across the counter, engraved with a subtle magical mark.

“This is your guild ID. Don’t lose it. And try not to get yourself killed—especially if you’re just a farm boy with no actual combat experience.”

Ren took the plate with both hands. His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Thank you so much!”

And with that, he ran out of the guild like the whole world had just opened up before him.

From the second floor, hidden behind heavy curtains and a tall window, Atilius Reindhart watched silently.

His eyes weren’t following a child.

They were tracking a shadow.

That boy… is not what he seems.