The trek back to the surface felt lighter than ever. Every time Clara looked down at her hip, the Bronze Badge pulsated with a soft, rhythmic light, synchronized with the beating of her heart.
As they crossed the threshold of the blue veil and stepped back into Oakhaven, the evening sun bathed the town in a warm, golden hue. But the real glow was coming from the Guild Hall.
The Rank-Up Ceremony
The hall was packed. Word of the "Magma Golem's Fall" had traveled fast via the Guild’s communication crystals. When Clara and Seraphina entered, the usual rowdy chatter died down into a respectful murmur.
The scowling receptionist was waiting. This time, she didn't wait for Clara to speak. She held out a tray lined with velvet. On it rested two badges made of cold, polished grey metal.
"Clara Green. Seraphina Thorne," the woman announced. "For clearing the 10th Floor and defeating a Great Elemental Boss, you are hereby promoted."
She took Clara’s Bronze piece and replaced it with the Iron Badge (Rank C).
"You're no longer Newbies," the receptionist said, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "You're Veterans now. Floor 11 is waiting."
Clara gripped the Iron Badge, her eyes shimmering. "We did it, Seras! Rank C! We’re twenty percent of the way to the top!"
Seraphina crossed her arms, looking at her own new badge. "Don't get cocky, Clara. Iron-rank monsters don't just burn; they think. The floors ahead won't be as straightforward as a Golem."
The Shadow from the Past
The duo made their way to a corner table to celebrate with two mugs of cold fruit cider. Clara was halfway through a story about a "Water-Rabbit" she once saw when she felt a sudden, icy chill—one that had nothing to do with her magic.
At the far end of the bar, a man sat alone. He was dressed in high-quality leather armor, but it was worn and scarred. Across his face was a jagged, vertical scar that ran through his left eye. He was tossing a gold coin—a coin that bore the unique crest of Clara’s old village.
Clara’s glass hit the table with a dull thud. Her smile didn't just fade; it vanished. Her face went deathly pale, and her breath hitched in a way that made Seraphina instantly reach for the hilt of her claymore.
"Clara? What is it?"
Clara couldn't speak. She was staring at the man's wrist. Tucked under his bracer was a scrap of red fabric—the same red fabric the bandits had worn as armbands the night the well became her world.
The man turned his head. His one good eye locked onto Clara. He didn't look surprised. He looked satisfied. He tucked the village coin into his pocket and gave a slow, mocking two-finger salute before standing up and walking out the back door of the Guild.
The New Mission
"That was him," Clara whispered, her voice trembling. "The one who led them. The one who lit the first torch."
Seraphina stood up, her armor clanking. "Are you sure?"
"I'd know that scar anywhere," Clara said. She stood up, her knuckles white as she gripped her staff. The happy-go-lucky girl was gone. In her place was an adventurer with a target. "He’s an adventurer now. Or he’s pretending to be one. He’s using the Spire to hide."
Seraphina looked at the door, then back at Clara. "Then we don't just climb for the wish at the top anymore, do we?"
Clara looked at her Iron Badge. It was cold and hard, just like the resolve hardening in her chest. She forced her smile back on—but this time, it was the smile of a predator.
"No," Clara said. "We climb to hunt."
ns216.73.216.1da2
and then Add to home screen.