Morning sunlight filtered through the tall crystal windows of the Avery dining hall, scattering fractured rainbows across the polished marble. The long table—carved from blackwood and inlaid with silver—glittered beneath steaming platters of eggs, sweet breads, and spiced porridge.
It was a peaceful scene. It only looked peaceful.
Ray sat stiffly between Garret and Isolde, acutely aware of every noble eye. Across from them, the Avery family ate with effortless precision. Duke Sebran sliced his bread with military sharpness. Duchess Mirelle stirred her tea with slow elegance, the porcelain barely whispering as the spoon touched the rim. Elaine ate delicately, her movements measured like clockwork, her eyes drifting over her notes even as she chewed.
At the far end, little Alden swung his feet and hummed, feeding berries to a beetle resting on a leaf cup. Niva watched the insect with religious reverence.
Ray watched the whole table with terror. A butler poured more tea; the soft clink of the pot echoed like a battle cry.
“Your academy journey begins tomorrow,” the Duke spoke, his voice dropping like a stone into the hall. He didn't even look up from his plate.
Garret straightened instinctively. Isolde lifted her chin. Ray almost choked on a grape.
“We will need to review the admission trials,” Elaine said calmly, folding her notebook. “There are written components. Combat. And social evaluation.”
Garret smirked. “Evaluation? For him?”
Ray stabbed his porridge aggressively. “I’ll have you know I’ve improved a lot.”
“He has,” Elaine noted with a single, sharp nod.
Ray’s spine straightened as if he’d just been knighted. Garret glared, while Isolde sipped her tea and pretended not to enjoy the friction.
“The Academy is not merely a place of learning,” Duchess Mirelle added, her gaze drifting to Ray. “It is a political crucible. You will be watched. Judged. Compared.”
“I… understand,” Ray swallowed hard.
“We will begin preparation drills after breakfast,” Elaine declared. “You must understand the hierarchy before we arrive. Normal students compete. Noble heirs maneuver. Engravers… do as they please.”
Garret muttered, “Great. Can’t wait to compete with a bunch of pampered brats.”
Duke Sebran lifted a single brow. “Including yourself, I assume?”
Garret froze mid-chew, the color draining from his face. Elaine didn’t bother hiding her smirk this time.
At the far end of the table, Alden leaned toward Niva, oblivious to the tension. “Do academies have beetles?” he whispered.
Niva gasped loudly. “I HOPE so!”
Ray stifled a laugh behind his cup. Somehow, those two made the grandeur of House Avery feel less suffocating.
The Duchess set her teacup down with a delicate click. “Several noble families are already positioned at the Academy. Some are… troublesome.”
“Troublesome how?” Ray asked.
Elaine steepled her fingers—a gesture Ray was starting to associate with imminent danger. “Ambitious. Skilled. Prone to conflict.”
“Arrogant,” Isolde added dryly.
Garret cracked his knuckles. “And merciless.”
Ray tried to mimic Garret’s bravado. He tried. He failed embarrassingly.
“I will be the one who will test you,” a voice cut in, cold and perfectly measured. “And I will be the one to fix your imperfections.”
Ray whipped around. Standing at the far end of the hall was Kaelen Avery—poised, composed, and holding a sheathed blade under one arm as though he had materialized from the shadows.
Ray paled. “You…?”
Kaelen’s voice was like steel. “Yes, me. I will be the one to test your sword, Ray. I cannot have an embarrassment for a brother-in-law.”
Ray’s breath hitched. Kaelen didn’t look angry; he looked clinical, as if Ray were a piece of rough stone that needed to be chiseled into shape or discarded.
Elaine didn’t even look surprised. Ray, however, felt all the blood drain from his face as he desperately triggered his new skill, scanning the table like a man looking for a way out of a burning building.
Ping.
ANALYZE RESULTS — AVERY FAMILY
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ANALYZE—TARGET: Sebran Avery
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ERROR.
Power level exceeds threshold.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Ray gulps. Yeah. Should’ve seen that coming.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ANALYZE—TARGET: Mirelle Avery
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ERROR.
Power level exceeds threshold.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A chill raced down Ray’s spine. She was smiling so calmly—that was never a good sign. It was the smile of a player who had already won the match.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ANALYZE—TARGET: Kaelen Avery
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ERROR.
Power level exceeds threshold.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“I KNEW he was dangerous!” Ray screamed internally. The guy entered the room like a mid-game Dark Knight character.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
STATUS — TARGET ANALYZED
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
NAME: Elaine Avery
AGE: 11
LEVEL: 2
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
HP: 25/25
STM: 12/12
ATTRIBUTES
STR: 5
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AGI: 7
VIT: 5
DEX: 6
INT: 160
WIS: 70
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Ray nearly fainted. His spoon trembled against the porcelain. His soul briefly left his body to find a safer place to exist.
Yep. Still the final boss. Still the Hidden Route Heroine. Still a child who could probably erase him from existence using nothing but mental math. Elaine, oblivious to his existential crisis, calmly spread jam on her toast.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
STATUS — TARGET ANALYZED
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
NAME: Alden Avery
AGE: 5
LEVEL: 1
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
HP: 25/25
STM: 17/17
ATTRIBUTES
STR: 3
AGI: 3
VIT: 4
DEX: 6
INT: 8
WIS: 3
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Finally, Ray thought, sagging into his seat. Someone normal. Thank you, Alden. You are the only thing keeping me sane right now.
Elaine’s eyes flicked toward Ray. She had been watching his expression shift—confusion, awe, and then pure panic—each time he looked at a different member of her family. She didn’t comment; she simply closed her eyes and took a bite of her toast, looking entirely satisfied.
Breakfast had barely ended when Kaelen rose from his seat.
“Ray. Come with me.”
Ray froze with a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. Garret smirked into his napkin. Isolde whispered a soft, “Rest in peace,” under her breath.
Even little Niva waved happily. “Bye, Ray! Have fun!”
Kaelen didn’t wait for an answer. He simply turned and glided out of the dining hall with that perfect, effortless Avery poise. Ray scrambled after him, his heart already doing its best to fail before they even left the room.
For some reason, Elaine decided to follow.
The dining hall’s warmth vanished the moment the heavy doors closed behind them. Ray and Elaine followed Kaelen down a corridor that felt less like a home and more like a museum of lethal intent. The silence between them was thick, heavy, and decidedly awkward. Ray’s boots squeaked against the polished marble with agonizing rhythmic precision, while Kaelen’s footsteps were like ghosts—entirely silent.
Ray tried to think of something to say. Nice weather? Nice sword? Please don’t kill me? Every time he opened his mouth, he’d catch a glimpse of Kaelen’s straight back and the way the light glinted off the silver hair tied at his neck, and the words would die in his throat. Kaelen didn’t look back once. He simply glided forward, a man who moved as if the world were a series of straight lines he had already mastered.
Finally, they reached a set of double doors made of dark, weathered oak—completely different from the white marble and gold leaf of the rest of the manor. Kaelen pushed them open.
“Inside,” he commanded.
Ray stepped in and stopped dead.
The room didn't belong in a Duke’s estate. It felt like a sanctuary for the wild. The walls weren't covered in silk wallpaper; they were lined with dark wood shelves overflowing with yellowed maps, strange jars containing glowing moss, and rough-hewn crystals that hummed with raw mana.
The centerpiece, however, was impossible to miss. Hanging above the massive stone fireplace was the bleached skull of a Dread-Saurian—a prehistoric beast that should have been extinct for an age. Its jagged teeth were the size of daggers, and its empty eye sockets seemed to track Ray’s every movement.
The air smelled of old parchment, pipe tobacco, and something sharp—like ozone after a lightning strike. Rugs made of thick, coarse monster fur covered the floor, and a rack in the corner held weapons that looked far too notched and scarred to be ceremonial.
Kaelen walked behind a desk made from a single, gnarled slab of ironwood. He didn't sit. Instead, he turned a heavy, silver signet ring on his finger—a ring shaped like a compass rose.
“You look confused, Ray,” Kaelen said, his voice echoing in the stone-walled room.
“This… this doesn’t look like a scholar’s office,” Ray managed to say, his eyes still fixed on the dinosaur skull.
“It isn’t. This is a Guild office. Or, to be more specific, my Guild office at home,” Kaelen said. “My sister is a strategist. My father is a politician. But I am an explorer. I am the presiding Guild Master of the Adventurer’s Guild, Capital Branch.”
Ray’s jaw dropped. The "Perfect Heir" wasn't just a noble—he was the boss of the most dangerous organization in the Empire.
“Wait… there is an Adventurer's Guild in this world?” Ray blurted out.
“What do you mean by that?” Kaelen asked, his voice cooling.
Elaine, standing by the door, raised her eyebrows.
“I mean… I didn't see any of this back at home,” Ray scrambled. “I didn't know there was an Adventurer's Guild.”
Kaelen raised his brows in genuine disbelief. “Well, there is most certainly one in this world, Ray. It is one of the lifebloods of the Empire. In fact, the lifeblood of the world.
Kaelen leaned back against his ironwood desk, crossing his arms. "Since you seem to have been raised in a fortress of ignorance, allow me to enlighten you. The Guild isn't just about 'exploring.' It is a massive bureaucratic machine that handles everything from high-stakes mercenary contracts to the subjugation of rogue beasts. We provide the muscle that the Imperial Army is too slow to move."
He gestured to a stack of copper, silver, and gold plates on his desk. "To keep the chaos organized, we utilize a strict ranking system for our members. It’s a measure of both power and reliability. At the very bottom, you have—"
"F-Rank," Ray interrupted, his voice brimming with a sudden, unearned confidence. He leaned back, a smug grin spreading across his face. "The bottom-feeders. Then you go E, D, C, B, and A. And finally, the legends—the S-Rankers. The ones who can solo a dragon or level a mountain. Pretty standard stuff, honestly."
Ray even gave a little dismissive wave of his hand, as if he were explaining the alphabet to a child. In his mind, he was finally on home turf. Every RPG he’d ever played used this exact ladder. He finally felt like the "Gamer" he was supposed to be.
The silence that followed was sharp.
Elaine didn't say a word, but her eyes drifted to the ceiling as if asking for patience.
Kaelen didn’t look impressed. If anything, his expression turned even more frigid. He took a single, slow step toward Ray, his shadow looming over him.
"Standard stuff?" Kaelen repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "You just said, less than a minute ago, that you didn't know the Guild existed. You claimed to be entirely unaware of our presence in this world. And yet, the moment I mention ranks, you find the breath to be smug?"
Ray’s grin faltered. "I... uh... I mean, it's just common sense? Logic?"
"It is not logic; it is arrogance," Kaelen snapped. "If you know the ranks, then surely you know the physical requirements for an A-Rank promotion? Or the magical threshold for an S-Rank designation?"
Ray opened his mouth, then closed it. The "Game Logic" in his head didn't cover the actual physics of this world's magic.
"You are a contradiction, Ray Melborne," Kaelen said, his eyes narrowing. "You act as though you have seen the end of the book, yet you cannot even read the first page. If you interrupt me again with that misplaced bravado, I will personally see to it that your training involves the floor of a sparring ring."
Ray swallowed hard, his smugness evaporating like mist in a forge.
"Now," Kaelen continued, "as I was saying... the ranks are not just letters. They are a life insurance policy. And for someone with your... unique set of gaps, you'll be lucky to be recognized as a trainee."
Kaelen sighed, his fingers hovering over the gnarled ironwood desk. “The Adventurer’s Guild is primarily here to explore the unknown, to map the unreachable, and most importantly, to manage the—”
Knock. Knock.
The heavy oak door creaked open just enough for a butler to slip through, carrying a mountain of parchment that looked heavy enough to kill a man. “Forgive the intrusion, Sir Kaelen. The quarterly reports from the Southern Reach have arrived. They require your seal immediately.”
Kaelen’s eye twitched. The "Perfect Heir" persona flickered for a brief second, replaced by the raw, exhausted annoyance of a man drowning in administrative hell. He looked at the paperwork, then at Ray, then back at the paperwork.
“I am not doing this today,” Kaelen muttered.
He stood up abruptly, the ironwood desk groaning as he pushed off it. He grabbed the training sword leaning against his chair and pointed it directly at Ray’s chest.
“Change of plans,” Kaelen declared, his voice regaining its sharp, clinical edge. “Ray, let us begin your training. Right now.”
Ray blinked, his brain still stuck on manage. Manage what? “Wait, what? Just like that? The sudden shift is a bit much, don’t you think?
Kaelen didn't even look back as he marched toward the door. “It doesn’t matter what I was going to say. Your future lies in the Academy, and right now, your future looks like a very bruised version of your present. Now hop to it.”
Ray stood there for a moment, abandoned by the lore reveal and faced with the prospect of being a human punching bag for an S-Rank Guild Master.
He didn't argue. He couldn't. Instead, Ray simply stood up and followed, shedding invisible, silent tears for the "Explorer Arc" he thought he was about to have, only to be replaced by the "Pain and Suffering" arc.
Elaine watched him pass, her expression unreadable. “Walk faster, Ray,” she said softly. “Kaelen hates it when his ‘projects’ are slow.”
Ray’s tears intensified.
