Part 3: "The Guild of Broken Chains"
The Ironhorn guildhall smelled like old sweat, spilled ale, and dry blood under perfume.
It was vast inside—too vast. A cathedral was warped for coin. Arched ceilings loomed overhead, and great stained-glass windows filtered light through images of warriors slaying beasts, mages sealing demons, and one overly romanticized depiction of a woman handing her leash to a smiling knight.
The place buzzed. Mercs lounged at tables with tankards and knives. An auctioneer took bids on cursed weapons near the back. Somewhere in a corner, someone was vomiting into a helmet.
Yuji moved through it like a shadow, cloak still drawn, Sylvia a step behind, hood up.
A woman at the front desk glanced up.
She was beautiful in that deliberately curated way—too much makeup, just enough cleavage, eyes sharp behind a veneer of hospitality. Her nameplate read "Cassira." Her smile said: I hate my life, but I'll still fleece you for every copper you've got.
"Newblood?" she asked.
Yuji nodded. "Kael. Looking to register."
Cassira leaned forward slightly. "You don't look local."
"Not."
She tapped something under the desk. "Magic user?"
"Light elemental. Support class."
Cassira blinked once—slight pause. Her fingers stopped moving for just half a second. Then resumed. "Light, huh? That's rare. Almost too rare."
"Just unlucky."
"You have a beastmate?"
Yuji motioned to Sylvia without looking. "Tamed. Non-magical. Combat utility."
Sylvia's jaw twitched, but she lowered her head obediently.
Cassira's smile didn't shift. "Collar's real?"
Yuji reached into his pouch and tossed her a stamped sigil—taken from the slaver's wagon. It bore the mark of the Ironhorn trade route. Forged? Maybe. Close enough.
Cassira caught it, examined it with a practiced eye, then nodded.
She handed him a clipboard made of waxplate and iron. "Fill out the top. We'll test your casting next. Then the Trial."
Yuji took it and moved toward a side bench. Sylvia followed, her movements tight.
As soon as they sat, she hissed under her breath.
"Light elemental?"
"It's the least likely to be challenged."
"You should've said wind or fire. Something they expect."
He kept writing. "Exactly why I didn't."
Sylvia scanned the hall with slow, surgical eyes. "We're being watched."
"I know."
He handed the form back to Cassira without glancing up.
She took it. "You'll be called when your Trial's ready."
Yuji smiled faintly. "Looking forward to it."
Cassira gave him a long look. Not flirtation. Not suspicion. Something colder.
"I don't know what you are," she said quietly. "But if you lie to this guild, it won't be slavers you need to worry about. It'll be us."
Yuji held her gaze. "Good."
He turned and walked toward the stairs leading underground, Sylvia at his heels, her claws already halfway unsheathed.
Part 4: "Beneath the Guild"
The stairs wound down like a throat.
Carved from dark stone and slick with old damp, they echoed with every step. Torchlight flickered ahead, casting shadows that moved too slow, like something watching from the walls.
Yuji kept his cloak drawn. Sylvia moved silently behind him.
At the bottom, a rusted gate barred the way forward. A bored man in half-plate leaned against it, chewing on a toothpick like it owed him money.
He glanced at Yuji, then at Sylvia, then back to Yuji.
"Newblood?"
"Kael."
"Trial's live. Your team's already in."
Yuji raised an eyebrow. "Team?"
The man smirked. "You think you're special, Kael? You're fresh meat. Guild wants to see if you're useful—or edible."
He opened the gate.
Yuji stepped through.
The chamber beyond was a natural cavern repurposed into an arena—dirt floor, jagged rocks, a few magically reinforced observation windows built into the upper walls. The smell of blood was baked into the walls.
Two others were already waiting.
One was a girl with short-cropped hair and a shattered shield. The other, a bulky man with a stitched-up arm and a wild look in his eyes.
Both turned when they saw Yuji.
"You're late," the girl said flatly.
"Didn't realize this was a date."
"Whatever. I'm Mira. That's Drek. They tossed us in here after saying we 'matched your profile.' Which means we're all supposed to die together."
Drek grunted. "They said it's a beast. Spiked. Mana-fed."
Yuji's eyes narrowed. "They're trying to trigger a surge."
Mira snorted. "They're trying to get you to blow your load in front of the watchers. Show off what you really are. And if you don't die, they record it. Sell the data to the Church or the nobles."
Yuji nodded once. "Then we don't die."
A klaxon echoed. The gate at the far end of the arena began to rise.
A sound crawled out—guttural, wet, and wrong.
Something dragged itself into view.
It was once a lion.
Now, it was twice the size, its eyes glowing red, flesh covered in jagged obsidian mana spikes. A tail of blackened bone whipped behind it, and its claws sparked against stone as it stalked forward.
Mira took a stance, but her legs were shaking.
Drek raised a hammer. "Fuck."
Yuji stepped forward.
The creature snarled—and charged.
He didn't cast a spell.
Not yet.
He watched the thing move. Watched the magic pulsing through it—wild, unstable, like a storm barely caged inside skin. The Fertility core in his chest throbbed.
He felt it.
Not just the creature's aggression—but its flaws.
Its magic was wrong. Too much growth. Not enough structure. It was a walking mana tumor.
Perfect.
Yuji snapped his fingers.
Wind magic surged—twisting the air around the beast's legs. It stumbled mid-charge.
Mira moved in, shield up. Drek followed, hammer swinging low. They struck—steel on corrupted hide—but the lion roared, backhanded Drek across the arena, and knocked Mira to the dirt.
Yuji didn't flinch.
He reached into the core of his power—dug deep—and pulled fire. Not like before. This time, it was focused. Intimate.
He shaped it like breath. Like seduction.
He whispered: "Ignite."
A narrow stream of superheated fire erupted from his hand, not in a blast—but a lance, aimed directly at the base of one of the beast's mana spikes.
It hit.
The spike exploded inward—and the entire left side of the lion's ribcage ignited.
The beast shrieked, flailing. It rolled across the arena, trying to snuff the fire. Yuji didn't stop.
He walked toward it.
Flicked his fingers again.
Wind and fire.
Combustion.
The creature lit up like oiled parchment.
When it finally stopped moving, the only sounds in the cavern were Mira's gasps and Drek's coughing.
Yuji stood over the corpse, cloak still smoking.
Up above, behind the reinforced glass, someone was watching.
And writing.