First Quest?

Ethan's eyes opened wide—not because he'd seen a fabled adventurer or some mythic creature.

But because of her.

A woman stood behind the counter of the Adventurer's Guild who appeared to have stepped right out of the cover of a fantasy game or light novel.

Long, flowing locks of hair encircled a face that could shatter a man's line of thought. Gentle lips. Prominent cheekbones. Deep amber eyes that sparkled with mischief.

And her body? Unreal. Curves in all the right places, a trim waist, endless legs. She wore the standard guild uniform—a crisp white blouse stretched tight across her chest, a fitted black vest, a short skirt, and thigh-high stockings tucked into sturdy brown boots. A guild emblem gleamed right above her cleavage.

She smiled graciously as she made some scrawl with a quill pen, taking a form to hand to the adventurer standing before her.

Ethan forgot how to breathe.

"Holy fucking shit," he stumbled out before he knew it.

It wasn't even supposed to be profane—it just did. No real woman he had ever seen looked like this one. And this fantasy siren rendered every Instagram model a spud in poor lighting.

He stiffened his back, smoothed his collar, and marched forward, disregarding the queue of rookie officers cutting daggers at him.

The woman's eyes flicked up to meet him as he drew near, her face cool and professional.

"Yes? Behind you is the line. Not here."

Ethan flashed a small, confident smile. "Sorry, just got to Ember's Hollow. Ethan Graves."

She arched one brow. "Congratulations. Get in line. Rules are rules."

But Ethan would not move. Rather, he leaned in a bit closer over the counter—relaxed, assertive, with a spark in his eye.

"I figured someone as smart—and beautiful—as you would already know I'm different from the rest of the rookies."

That gave her pause.

The quill hung suspended mid-word. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly, their gaze as if seeing something beneath the surface. The edges of her lips twitched, near-smiling.

"Bold talk for a newbie."

"Perhaps," Ethan replied, placing his elbow on the counter. "But soon I'll be a name you won't forget. So I thought… might as well make an early impression."

A muted chuckle passed her lips. Then, to his astonishment, she closed her book and leaned forward just far enough to challenge his eye contact skills.

"Okay then, Mr. Graves. You desire registration?"

"You got it. I want my adventurer pass as soon as possible. Gonna assault a dungeon shortly, you know."

She drew out a form, quill scratching across parchment. "F-rank for beginners. Don't get any ideas and rush off to perilous quests. Most who do are dead before noon."

Ethan frowned. "F-rank? Not even an E? Are you certain a guy like me should start that low?"

He maintained a teasing tone—secure but not desperate. 

She blinked, then grinned. "You're certainly a troublemaker." She ripped off the form and crammed it with a loud stamp.

When she handed him back, the paper said:

[Adventurer Rank: E]

Ethan's jaw dropped. Wait. seriously? That actually worked?

She winked. "Don't make me regret this, okay?"

He grinned and accepted the pass. "You won't. And. you didn't mention what your name is."

She faltered, then smiled, a tiny, almost embarrassed smile, a flush of pink on her cheeks.

"Elira Vexhart."

"Lira," he said again, relishing the sound. "Pleasure to meet you. I think we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

He grinned, then turned and walked off—past the death glares and curses among the remaining fifty adventurers still in line.

He walked over to the Quest Board, reading the fluttering sheets pinned to its wooden board. They were all the standard beginner trash—collect five herbs, slay large rabbits, accompany grumpy merchants.

But then, one caught his attention.

On the top-left corner of the board, a piece of dark grey parchment drew stark contrast with the ocean of faded brown.

He walked up close and read:

[URGENT — Shadow Fang Den Found in Ember Forest]

[Difficulty: E-Rank]

[Reward: 2 Gold + Bonus Materials]

[Note: Recommended for groups of 2–4 adventurers. Be cautious of ambush strategies.]

Ethan sneered.

He ripped the slip off the board and pocketed it.

The grind had finally commenced.