Welcome to Isekai: The Path I Choose

Through the arrangement made by Commander Safford, I had to leave behind the small room I’d grown used to and move into a spare one inside the Adventurer’s Guild.

It felt strange packing the few things I had. Strange knowing I wouldn’t be going back.

I was told I’d be assigned to an experienced teacher, though I hadn’t met him yet. I didn’t even know his name. Training would begin the following week, which meant I had time adjust to life inside the Guild before everything started.

Commander Safford said that the expenses will be covered for the first month. After that, I would have to earn my own way.

I have to give it all I’ve got if I want to continue.

The thought of not having a place to go if I failed scared me more than I wanted to admit.

But there was no way I would go back to my old life.

Not after the promise I made to Commander Safford.

And not after the promise I made to myself.

The Adventurer’s Guild was nothing like the small room I had been staying in until now.

From the outside, the building looked older than most in the village — wide, sturdy, built with thick wooden beams that had clearly been repaired more than once. The entrance doors were heavier too, marked with deep scratches and worn edges, as if they had been pushed open thousands of times by people carrying weapons and gear.

Inside, the air felt different.

The faint smell of smoke and damp wood that lingered through the village was replaced by something sharper. Metal. Leather. Sweat. The low hum of conversation never really stopped, even during the quieter hours.

People moved with purpose here.

Some sat at long tables, talking in low voices. Others checked their equipment near the walls, tightening straps or adjusting blades with practiced hands. A few glanced at me as I passed, but their attention never lingered long. I wasn’t the first newcomer to walk through these halls, and I wouldn’t be the last.

So this is where it starts.

The spare room I had been given was on the upper floor, at the end of a narrow corridor. It was smaller than the one I’d stayed in before, but it felt more permanent somehow. A bed, a small chest, a table near the window. Nothing more.

No comfort.

No familiarity.

Just space.

I set the small bundle of clothes I’d carried with me on the table and looked around slowly.

This wasn’t a place to recover.

It was a place to prepare.

One month.

That was all I had before I’d have to start earning my stay. The thought sat heavily in the back of my mind, like a clock I couldn’t see but could still hear ticking.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and rested my hands on my knees.

The symbol in my palm didn’t react.

It hadn’t done anything since the forest.

I still don’t know what you are.

For a moment, I considered trying to call out to it again. Like I had back then. Whispering words that felt ridiculous even now.

But I stopped myself.

If it was meant to appear, it would.

If it wasn’t… forcing it wouldn’t change anything.

A voice echoed faintly from downstairs, followed by the sound of laughter and the dull thud of something heavy being set down.

Life continued here too.

Just louder. Harsher.

I stood up and stepped back into the corridor, closing the door behind me. If I was going to live here, even temporarily, I needed to understand the place.

The stairs creaked softly as I made my way down. The main hall was busier now than it had been when I first arrived. A group of adventurers stood near a large board covered in pinned papers, talking among themselves while pointing at different postings.

Requests.

Jobs.

Work.

Danger.

I didn’t step too close, but I watched from a distance.

Some of the requests looked simple — deliveries, gathering herbs, escorting carts. Others were marked differently. Darker ink. Fewer details.

Monsters.

A man standing nearby noticed me looking.

“First time?” he asked casually, not unkindly.

“…Yes.”

He nodded toward the board. “Don’t worry. No one expects you to take anything right away.”

“I’m not allowed to yet,” I replied.

“That so?”

“I start training next week.”

He let out a quiet whistle. “Then you got in fast.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“I was… given the opportunity,” I said.

He studied me for a moment, then gave a short nod. “Don’t waste it.”

Before I could respond, he turned away and joined another group, already absorbed in a different conversation.

I remained where I was for a while longer, watching the way people moved. The way they spoke. The way they carried themselves.

There was confidence here.

Not loud.

Not arrogant.

Just… certain.

They belonged in a way I still didn’t.

And that gap felt bigger here than it ever had in the village.

One month.

I repeated the thought again, letting it settle.

One month to learn.

One month to become useful.

One month to make sure I didn’t end up back where I started.

I turned away from the board and made my way back toward the stairs. I didn’t need to see more today.

Not yet.

As I reached the first step, I felt it again.

That same awareness from before.

I looked up instinctively.

For just a moment, at the far end of the hall, near the exit, I caught sight of a familiar silhouette.

The beastkind girl.

She wasn’t inside the Guild.

She stood just beyond the doorway, half-turned as if she had only just arrived — or was about to leave.

Her eyes met mine briefly.

No greeting.

No movement.

Just recognition.

Then she stepped away, disappearing from view as quickly as she had appeared.

…So she comes here too.

The thought lingered longer than I expected.

I climbed the stairs slowly, the sounds of the Guild fading behind me with each step. When I reached my room, I paused for a moment before opening the door.

This place didn’t feel like home.

Not yet.

But it was the first place I had chosen for myself since coming to this world.

And that alone made it different.

I stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me.

Next week, everything would begin.

continue

I stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me.

For a while, I didn’t do anything.

I just stood there, listening.

The Guild never really went silent. Even from up here, I could still hear the dull murmur of voices from the hall below. Footsteps. The occasional scrape of a chair. The faint clink of metal. It wasn’t loud, but it was constant — like the building itself was breathing.

Different from the village.

There, silence had felt natural. Comfortable.

Here, silence would have felt wrong.

I moved toward the small window and pushed it open slightly. Cool air slipped in, carrying with it the sounds of the outside road. Someone was arguing about prices. A cart rolled past slowly. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked once, then settled.

So this is my new starting point.

I leaned against the frame, letting the air clear my head.

Training would begin in a week.

A week wasn’t much time. But it wasn’t nothing either.

Enough time to think.

Enough time to doubt.

Enough time to prepare.

The thought of a teacher I hadn’t met yet stayed with me. Someone experienced. Someone who would be responsible for turning me into… what, exactly?

An adventurer?

A fighter?

A survivor?

In my old life, I never had anyone expect something like that from me.

The idea made my chest feel tight.

Not fear. Not exactly.

Pressure.

But there was something else beneath it too. Something I wasn’t used to feeling.

Anticipation.

I closed the window and sat down at the table, resting my hands in front of me. My gaze drifted to my palm without me meaning it to.

The bandages were gone now.

The mark remained.

It looked the same as it had when I first noticed it. Dark lines, faint but clear, shaped in a way that didn’t resemble any tattoo I’d ever seen before. Not ink. Not drawn.

Part of me.

I ran my thumb across it lightly.

Nothing happened.

No warmth. No light. No sign of the blade that had appeared in the forest.

It only reacted when I was about to die.

The memory of the wolf returned sharper than I expected. The sound of its breathing. The weight of it pinning me down. The moment I thought it was over.

Then the light. The dagger.

My fingers curled slowly into a fist.

I don’t want to wait until I’m desperate again.

If this thing was meant to help me, I needed to understand it before I found myself in another situation like that.

But how?

I tried to focus, the way I had back in the forest. Closing my eyes. Thinking about the feeling of it appearing in my hand.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes again, exhaling slowly.

So it’s not that simple.

Maybe it wasn’t something I could force.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be used freely.

Or maybe I just wasn’t ready yet.

A knock sounded at the door.

Not loud. Not urgent.

Just enough to pull me out of my thoughts.

I stood and opened it.

A young girl stood in the corridor, holding a wooden tray with a bowl and a cup on it. She couldn’t have been older than twelve. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, then down again quickly.

“Food,” she said, holding the tray out carefully.

“Oh. Thank you,” I replied, taking it from her.

She nodded once and turned to leave, then hesitated.

“You’re the one who’s starting training next week, right?” she asked, still not looking directly at me.

“…Yes.”

She shifted her weight slightly. “People were talking about it.”

That wasn’t surprising.

“Good things, I hope,” I said, half-joking.

She shrugged. “They said Commander Safford picked you himself.”

Before I could ask what that meant, she had already turned and walked off down the corridor.

I closed the door and set the tray on the table.

The bowl was filled with something warm and thick, the smell simple but comforting. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until that moment.

As I ate, her words stayed with me.

“People were talking about it.”

In the village, I’d always felt like something temporary. Something being watched quietly.

Here, it felt different.

Here, people already had expectations.

Not because of what I’d done.

Because of what I might become.

That thought was heavier than I expected.

I finished the meal slowly, setting the empty bowl aside. For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the wall, letting the feeling settle.

This was the first time since arriving in this world that something had been decided about me before I even started.

Training.

Expectation.

A future.

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes briefly.

I chose this.

The reminder steadied me.

Whatever happened next — however hard it was — this wasn’t something being forced on me.

I had asked for it.

Outside, the sounds of the Guild continued without pause. Laughter rose briefly from downstairs, followed by the thud of boots against the floor.

Life moved forward.

And for the first time, I felt like I was about to move with it instead of just being carried along.

I stayed seated for a while after finishing the meal, the empty bowl resting untouched on the table.

The Guild was louder now than it had been earlier. More voices drifted up from below, overlapping in a way that made it impossible to pick out any single conversation. Someone laughed loudly. A chair scraped. Boots crossed the wooden floor in steady, confident steps.

It felt strange, sitting alone above it all.

Not isolated.

Just… not part of it yet.

I stood and stretched carefully. My body felt normal again — no stiffness, no lingering pain. For the first time since the forest, I could move without thinking about every step.

So I really am healed.

The thought should have been reassuring.

Instead, it felt like the end of something.

When I’d been injured, there had always been an excuse. A reason to stay in the background. A reason to watch instead of act.

Now that was gone.

I picked up the tray and stepped back into the corridor. The girl was gone, but the other doors along the hallway were closed. A few faint voices came from one of the rooms farther down, followed by the dull thud of something heavy hitting the floor.

Training.

Even before mine had begun, others were already doing it.

I made my way down the stairs slowly, careful not to draw attention. The main hall was busier than before. Groups had formed around the tables, some eating, some drinking, some speaking in low voices while pointing at the request board.

This time, I didn’t stop near the edge.

I walked a little further in.

Not enough to interrupt anyone. Just enough to feel the shift.

A man sitting near the corner glanced up as I passed. His eyes lingered on my face for a moment, then dropped to my hands, then back again.

“New one?” he asked.

I paused. “…I guess so.”

He nodded once, as if confirming something to himself, then returned to his meal.

No welcome.

No challenge.

Just acknowledgment.

It was enough.

A group of older adventurers stood nearby, talking in low voices.

“…heard it was just one,” one of them said.

“Still shouldn’t be that close to the road,” another replied.

“Things are changing.”

My chest tightened slightly.

They weren’t talking about me.

But they weren’t not talking about me either.

The memory of the wolf flashed through my mind again — its eyes, the way it moved, the sound it made when it lunged.

I swallowed and looked away from the board.

That world existed just beyond the village.

And soon, I’d have to face it again.

“Elio.”

The voice came from behind me.

I turned, surprised.

Len stood a few steps away, one hand resting on the back of a chair. He looked the same as always — relaxed, steady, like he already knew his place here.

“So it’s true,” he said. “You moved in.”

“Just today,” I replied.

He nodded, glancing around the hall. “Big change from the village, huh?”

“…It feels different,” I admitted.

Len pulled out the chair and sat down, motioning for me to take the one across from him.

I hesitated, then sat.

“You start training next week?” he asked.

“That’s what I was told.”

He let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly. “Then you won’t be bored for long.”

There was something in the way he said it that made me pause.

“Was it hard?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Depends what you mean by hard.”

I waited.

“The body gets used to it,” he continued. “Bruises fade. Muscles heal. You learn what to watch out for.”

“And the rest?”

Len’s expression shifted slightly.

“That takes longer.”

I didn’t ask him to explain.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer yet.

He studied me for a moment, then gave a small smile. “You’ll be fine. You survived the forest, didn’t you?”

Barely.

But I nodded anyway.

Len stood up, pushing the chair back into place. “I’ve got to head out. Early patrol tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For checking on me.”

He waved a hand as he turned away. “You’re part of the Guild now. We look after our own.”

The words lingered longer than he did.

Part of the Guild.

I sat there for a moment after he left, letting that settle.

It didn’t feel like belonging.

Not yet.

But it felt like the first step toward something close to it.

I stood and made my way back toward the stairs, the noise of the hall fading behind me as I climbed. The corridor was quieter now, most of the doors still closed.

When I reached my room, I paused with my hand on the handle.

For a moment, I thought I heard something at the far end of the hallway. A faint sound. A shift of movement.

I looked up.

At the very end, near the shadow where the corridor turned, a figure stood still.

The hood was pulled low.

But the shape was unmistakable.

Beastkind.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

She just watched.

And then, as if she had only been waiting for me to notice her, she turned and disappeared around the corner.

I stood there for a second longer, listening.

Nothing.

No footsteps. No door closing.

Just silence.

Why is she always there when something changes?

I pushed the thought aside and opened the door, stepping back inside.

The room felt the same as before.

Small.

Quiet.

Temporary.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at my hands again.

One week.

That was all the time I had before everything started.

Training.

Danger.

The outside world.

I closed my fingers slowly into a fist, feeling the mark press faintly against my skin.

“Next time,” I murmured to myself, “I won’t run.”