The city of Loria loomed like a fortress carved from marble and gold. Its towering white walls glistened under the morning sun, and from the distance, it looked like a place untouched by suffering. But Kael knew better. Beauty meant nothing in a world that crushed people like him. Still wearing a torn cloak he had stolen from a traveler's corpse, Kael approached the southern gate with his head low and scythe wrapped tightly in linen. He couldn't risk being seen with it—especially here, where magic was revered but necromancy was a death sentence.
A line of adventurers stretched before the gate, each one submitting papers or guild badges to the guards. Kael didn't have either. He waited silently, letting the crowd shift until a caravan blocked view of the side alley. Slipping away, he scaled a narrow stone path behind a delivery cart and, using a forgotten servant's stairwell carved into the outer wall, slipped into the capital unseen.
Loria was larger than anything Kael had imagined—layers upon layers of stone paths, smoke, voices, and banners waving in the summer wind. The scent of spices, sweat, and steel filled the air. People walked with purpose. Knights in blue armor marched through the square while robed mages debated in arcane tongues. No one paid attention to a ragged boy in a cloak. That's what he needed.
He followed the signs to the Adventurer's Guild—an enormous hall built of blackwood and dragonbone, its entrance lined with stained-glass portraits of past heroes. Inside, it was chaos. Warriors boasted of slayed beasts. Mages bartered for scrolls. A giant board at the center listed quests: escort duties, monster exterminations, and odd jobs. Kael kept his eyes sharp. He needed a way in.
"Looking to register?" a voice asked.
Kael turned to see a short, sharp-eyed girl leaning over a desk stacked with papers. Her silver hair was tied in a tight braid, and her cloak bore the guild's sigil: a lion clutching a blade.
"Yeah," Kael said, lowering his voice. "First time."
She raised a brow. "Name?"
He hesitated. "Kael… just Kael."
She scanned him. "No sponsor, no weapon visible, no guild coin. You'll have to start as Bronze Rank. Complete ten minor tasks to be evaluated."
He nodded silently. That was fine. Staying hidden was worth the slow start.
After some forms and a crude test involving hitting a straw dummy with a dull sword, Kael received a leather token with the bronze lion etched into it—his new identity. He pinned it inside his cloak, away from prying eyes.
That night, he found shelter in an old storehouse behind the guild. It reeked of oil and rats, but it had a roof. He unwrapped his scythe carefully, feeling the hum of its energy pulse through his fingers.
The System blinked to life again.
<< New Subsystem: Camouflage Protocol Unlocked >>
Your soul is now cloaked from basic detection magic.
Remaining charges: 3
Useful. He was being hunted—he could feel it.
A vision burned across his mind: the demon he had killed back in the village. But this time, it spoke. "He has the Scythe. Find him." A whisper from the past? Or a warning of what was coming?
Kael gritted his teeth. He couldn't afford to stay still for long. Ten quests. That was the goal.
Then he could move freely through the kingdom, maybe even into the old elven forests. Rumors said the elves knew more about necromancers than anyone else. He didn't want power for vengeance.
He wanted control. Over the system. Over his fate. And if the world feared necromancers? Then let them tremble before a Reaper.