Several days had passed since the great destruction that struck Whitelord City. Rumors about the World Serpent, Jörmungandr, spread quickly across the Everon Kingdom.
Yet no one knew who was truly behind the incident. The only surviving witness—the commander of the special squad—died after receiving medical treatment. He never got the chance to reveal the mastermind. In fact, no one even knew he had known.
People concluded that the summoner of Jörmungandr must have been the same party responsible for burning down the Valden estate.
Investigators believed this was the work of a dark organization aiming to destroy the world, or something of similar intent. Because of this, security in Whitelord was tightened, and an urgent message was sent to the royal capital about the incident.
As for Crowne, he was regarded merely as a rebellious boy who had run away from home. He was initially suspected, but since his magical talent was deemed poor, his name was quickly dismissed from the list of suspects.
**
In another city within the Everon Kingdom, Crowne and Ronan stood in front of a large building with a crest of a crossed sword and shield. Above it, carved letters read:
"Adventurer's Guild – Stormhall Branch."
Ronan stared at the signboard, his mouth slightly agape. "Master… are we really going to register as adventurers? After everything we did in Whitelord? Isn't this suicide?"
Crowne's expression remained flat. He stepped forward into the guild without answering.
The moment the large wooden doors opened, a lively atmosphere greeted them. Dozens of adventurers gathered inside—some laughing, others busy pinning down quests from the notice board. The smell of alcohol and warm food mingled with the metallic scent of weapons hanging from their belts.
A female receptionist with long brown hair smiled warmly at the front desk. "Welcome to the Stormhall Adventurer's Guild. How may I assist you?" she asked, glancing at Crowne and Ronan.
Crowne patted Ronan's shoulder, urging him forward. "We want to register as adventurers," he replied.
Ronan swallowed nervously. "Y-yes… we want to become adventurers."
He turned toward Crowne, only to get another firm pat on his back from his master. Afterward, both of them approached the receptionist.
Receptionist pulled out two sheets of paper. "Very well, please fill out your identities here. After that, you'll undergo a short qualification test. Don't worry, it's just to evaluate your basic strength and determine your starting adventurer rank. You can still raise your rank later by completing quests or taking promotion exams."
Crowne nodded. He already knew much about the adventurer's guild. He had planned all along to join after leaving the Valden household.
Ronan lowered his head, writing nervously. Meanwhile, Crowne calmly wrote only one word as his name—
Crowne.
He did not include his family name on the registration form. He no longer carried the Valden name, for he had discarded it completely.
"This is my new beginning—as Crowne, the adventurer."
**
Meanwhile, back in Whitelord…
The Valden estate was still filled with rubble. Some parts were destroyed, though the main house remained intact aside from the charred sections, which were relatively easy to repair. The true devastation lay in the city's eastern district, which had been leveled to the ground.
"I failed to protect Whitelord City," muttered an old man sitting on the balcony of the Valden estate. His face was pale, his breath labored.
This old man was Supreme Magus Zamond, head of the Everon Kingdom's Magic Academy. His body had not fully recovered from the clash against Jörmungandr's might.
Recalling that battle made his whole body tremble. An opponent utterly impossible for him to defeat at his current strength.
"I must sharpen my power again," he said with renewed determination.
At that moment, someone entered. It was Sorbet Valden, the current head of the Valden family. He knelt before the Supreme Magus, bowing deeply. "Your Excellency Zamond… we don't know how to thank you. If not for you, our estate, our family, and the entire Whitelord would have perished."
Zamond gave a faint smile despite his weary face. "Do not misunderstand, Sorbet. I didn't save anyone." His hand clenched as he remembered the clash. "I was defeated. Jörmungandr left not because of me, but because she wished to leave on her own."
"But… even so," Sorbet's voice trembled, "you still protected us. Without you, Whitelord's condition would have been far worse."
Zamond fell silent. In his heart, he knew how thin the line between life and death had been. Had Jörmungandr opened her jaws one more time, he might have vanished completely.
"I will head to the capital. Can you prepare a carriage for me?" Zamond asked.
Sorbet nodded. "Of course."
**
Back in Stormhall City.
After filling in their forms, Crowne and Ronan were led to the guild's backyard. There, a massive magic circle was engraved into the ground.
"Please step inside the circle. This test will measure your potential and strength," explained a burly instructor guarding the area.
Ronan stepped forward nervously. The moment his feet touched the circle, a blue light enveloped his body. A number appeared on the crystal beside the arena.
"Oh, Intermediate level. Quite good for a beginner," the instructor muttered.
Ronan sighed in relief. "Hah… thank goodness."
Then it was Crowne's turn. He stepped into the circle with a blank expression. The crystal began to glow… then suddenly shone blindingly bright. The crystal trembled violently, nearly cracking apart.
"Th-this… impossible…!" The instructor's eyes widened, cold sweat dripping down his forehead.
But suddenly the light vanished. The number that appeared on the crystal made the instructor rub his eyes in disbelief. Against all expectations…
"Low level." He wiped the crystal, thinking it was an error. But the number remained the same. "This is strange."
The instructor then announced the adventurer ranks. Ronan would begin his career at Rank C-, a fairly high rank for a beginner.
As for Crowne, he was assigned to Rank F—the very lowest, equivalent to ordinary civilians with no talent.
In all recorded history, no Rank F had ever advanced. They remained Rank F forever, as they lacked the aptitude to become fighters.
"This must be wrong! I demand a recheck!" Ronan protested, furious at the absurdly low rank given to his master.
He protested because he had seen it himself—his master had summoned a magical beast named Jörmungandr. Something even a Supreme Magus could never accomplish.
"I'm sorry, but the result is final. If you wish, complete quests and reach the required score. Your rank will be reassessed late." The instructor explained.
Ronan still wanted to argue, but Crowne patted his shoulder and shook his head.
"Enough," Crowne said firmly.