Gamble - II

Before the headmaster's speech ended, Clay slipped away from the crowd. He needed to let Cedric out before the rank examination.

Since their two-day trip to Eredir, Cedric had been restless, and Clay knew better than to keep him bagged any longer. The owl had hated confinement, preferring the open sky or the wilds—or, at the very least, Clay's shoulder.

Finding a quiet spot nearby was tricky.

The guild was vast, filled with stonework hallways and spaces with armored statues and royal banners. Some veteran guild members passed the halls, observing Clay with judging eyes. Clay kept his head down, blending into the background as Viktor Bailey should.

But as Clay moved, he became aware of something.

Someone was following him.

Clay didn't react, maintaining his casual stride. If anything, he made himself appear unaware. He wasn't worried, however. His pursuer seemed awful at hiding his hiding his presence. The flash of gray hair and blue eyes had already given him away.

'Gray hair and blue eyes, huh...'

Eventually, Clay reached a more secluded spot—a willow tree standing behind the guild's main building. The branches hung low, offering some privacy. He set his bag down and carefully loosened the flap. The moment he did, Cedric pushed his head out, hooting in relief.

"Are you a beast tamer? They don't rank them here, ya know."

Clay turned, already recognizing the voice: the gray-haired guy beside him during the speech, now standing a few feet away, ducking under the willow's branches with a stern look.

He was tall and lean, with a slightly tanned complexion. His striking blue eyes held a glint of mischief, and his messy gray hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and decided appearances weren't worth the effort. A sword rested on his back, its hilt standing out—appearing as not an ordinary weapon.

Clay studied him curiously.

The handler's intel had warned him about a few high-profile adventurers, but this guy wasn't in the reports.

His attire also lacked badges or accessories compared to others, marking him as a rookie adventurer or something close. But the guy's unique features somewhat intrigued Clay.

'He seemed like a main character of some novel...'

"What are you looking at?" the guy asked, his tone tinged with annoyance. He crossed his arms, leaning against the tree. "This tree's my napping spot. Get lost."

'Never mind.'

Cedric hooted his displeasure, flapping onto Clay's shoulder.

The guy smirked. "Heh, cute pet you got there."

Clay had ways of dealing with nosy people, but this guy didn't seem like a threat. If anything, he was more of a nuisance—like a pup.

"You're not going to the rank exam?" asked Clay.

The guy's smirk widened into a smug grin. "Heh, I'm already a member. I've got a good record with my team. You see—I'm quite reliable and strong. Hah, you can even ask the guild receptionist for details. I bet you'll be amazed at the..."

The guy's smug voice went from Clay's ear to another.

'Is he... advertising himself?'

A nice idea crossed Clay's mind. "Ah, since you're so reliable, you wouldn't mind watching Cedric while I take my exams, would you?"

"Cedric?" The guy blinked. But before he could react, the angry owl lunged at him. "Oi—"

Cedric pounced with surprising speed, forcing the guy to stumble back as he dodged the flurry of wings. Clay leaned against the tree, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement.

The guy wrestled with Cedric, his movements quick and instinctive—almost too fast and rough for ordinary folk. His behavior was odd—his quirky movements and rough expression.

And that's when Clay saw it—the guy's canine fangs.

'The Wolf Tribe... Is he a descendant?'

The guy grinned through the struggle, appearing to enjoy the challenge. "Woahaha, this bird's strong. Bigger than any I've seen back home." He paused mid-struggle, glancing at Clay. "Where did you get this pet—"

Cedric smacked him with a wing, cutting him off.

Clay suppressed a smile, feeling somewhat sorry. If he ever called Cedric a pet, the owl would not hesitate to murder him with his talons.

The guy finally pried the owl off, holding Cedric at arm's length. "You gnarly bird! Do you even know who I am? I am Tobias Fitzroy—this guild's rising star and best pyro-aura swordmaster!"

Clay held back a laugh. 'Tobias, huh.'

"Well, you two have fun. I've got an exam to take," Clay said, dusting Cedric's feathers off his attire.

"Hey! Take your pet off my face—!"

Clay arrived at the exam site, the guild's dedicated training yard.

A circle of mana torches illuminated the area, with well-maintained racks of training weapons and a sand-covered floor meant to soften falls. Rows of interested veteran members and adventurers watched from above as the examinees gathered in one corner, waiting their turn.

At the front stood a young examiner, her face scarred and hair red as crimson. Her sharp eyes scanned the group as she continued her speech in a steady voice.

"Well, that's all you all novices need to know. We will pair you with our A-ranked veterans matching your combat role—swordsman to swordsman, mage to mage. This exam tests your fundamentals, stance, technique, mana control, and ability to hold your ground. Remember, you can join the guild should you get at least a D-rank. Eh, to start this—" Her scarred eyes roamed the anticipating faces around her.

Clay slipped behind the line without noise, hiding his presence. But he underestimated the red-haired examiner as her eyes narrowed at him.

"Why don't we begin with the sneaky brat who arrived late?"

'Ah, well...'