Chapter 3: A World of Strength
Chapter 3: A World of Strength
Chapter 3: A World of Strength
The sounds of clashing metal and shouted commands filled the air as Kael approached the guild's training grounds. The area was a sprawling courtyard adjacent to the guildhall, bordered by high stone walls to contain the chaos within. Adventurers of all ranks trained here, sparring, testing their magic, or honing their weapons in preparation for their next mission.
Kael stopped at the edge of the courtyard, letting his eyes sweep over the scene. There were groups everywhere—pairs of swordsmen locked in mock duels, mages practicing elemental spells, archers firing arrows at distant targets. It was a whirlwind of activity, skill, and, more importantly, power. This was where the guild's strength manifested, where reputation and rank were earned.
I'm outmatched, Kael thought grimly as he watched a particularly large warrior swing a greatsword with ease, splitting a practice dummy in two. His own body felt weak, uncoordinated—a far cry from the warrior he once was. But the thought didn't dishearten him; instead, it steeled his resolve. If he couldn't match them in brute strength, he would outmaneuver them in every other way.
Finn hovered nearby, his eyes darting nervously between Kael and the adventurers. "You sure you want to be here?" he asked in a hushed tone. "This isn't the place for someone like you. These guys would flatten you without a second thought."
Kael suppressed a smirk. Finn's concern was genuine, but it also revealed how well his disguise of weakness was working. "I need to learn," Kael replied, keeping his tone soft and uncertain. "If I'm going to survive here, I need to know what I'm up against."
As he spoke, a flash of light caught his eye. Turning his gaze, he saw a group of mages practicing spells. At the center stood a woman with long, auburn hair, her hands outstretched as flames crackled to life between her fingers. She was focused, her eyes glowing with intensity as she manipulated the fire with practiced ease.
"Who's that?" Kael asked, nodding toward the woman.
"That's Elara Lynton," Finn whispered, awe tinged with caution in his voice. "She's a high-ranking guild member, one of the best fire mages around. Comes from a noble family with a long history in the guild. Not someone you want to mess with."
Kael narrowed his eyes, studying Elara as she weaved the flames into intricate patterns. Her control was precise, movements fluid like a dancer's. It wasn't just raw power; it was mastery. She's dangerous, Kael thought. But where there was danger, there was opportunity. People like her often had weaknesses of their own—ego, pride, or a need to prove themselves.
"Noted," he replied casually, turning his attention back to the rest of the courtyard. His gaze shifted from group to group, taking in every detail—the techniques of the fighters, the spells cast by the mages, the ranks embroidered on their cloaks. Each detail painted a clearer picture of the guild's hierarchy.
"How do they divide the ranks here?" Kael asked Finn, keeping his tone light as if merely curious.
"Bronze, Silver, Gold," Finn rattled off, his eyes still darting around. "Bronze is the starting rank. Most don't make it past that. Silver's where people start taking you seriously, and Gold... well, those are the elite. They get the best missions, the best pay, and the most influence."
"And Elara? She's...?" Kael trailed off, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Finn.
"Gold, of course," Finn confirmed, a mix of admiration and envy in his voice. "She earned that rank through sheer talent and power. The guild respects strength above all else. You don't stand a chance against people like her."
Kael hummed thoughtfully. Strength above all else, he mused. It was a simple philosophy, one that created a clear pecking order. But it also created a blind spot. Those at the top, accustomed to being feared and admired, often overlooked the quiet, the weak, the ones they deemed beneath them. That was Kael's in.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a group of adventurers gathering at the far end of the courtyard. At their center was a young man with striking blonde hair, clad in finely crafted armor. He moved with an air of arrogance, his voice carrying over the clamor of the training ground.
"Who's that?" Kael asked, though he had already formed a guess.
"Edrik Frost," Finn muttered, his tone darkening. "Another noble. Silver-ranked, but thinks he should be Gold. He's ambitious and hates being overshadowed by people like Elara."
Interesting, Kael thought. Ambition was a double-edged sword. It could drive people to great heights, but it could also make them reckless, easy to manipulate. Kael made a mental note of Edrik. The man's loud, commanding presence was a stark contrast to Elara's focused control. If Kael needed to sow disorder within the guild to fulfill the System's contract, Edrik could prove to be a useful tool—or target.
"Let's get out of here," Finn urged, tugging at Kael's sleeve. "If they see us lingering, they'll think we're up to something."
"Relax," Kael replied calmly, though he allowed Finn to guide him back toward the guildhall's entrance. "I just needed a look."
As they walked, Kael processed everything he had observed. The guild was a microcosm of power, with its ranks, nobles, and skilled adventurers. It thrived on competition, and where there was competition, there was conflict. All it would take was a little push in the right places to set that conflict aflame.
He glanced at Finn, who was still glancing nervously around them. The boy was useful, an information source that could be nudged toward his ends. "Finn," Kael said suddenly, stopping just outside the guildhall's entrance. "You've been around here long enough. Tell me, what happens when the guild members disagree on something important?"
Finn hesitated, frowning as he considered the question. "Well, usually the guild master steps in. Garreth Stoneclaw, he's the one who keeps order. If there's a dispute, he decides what happens. But he's not infallible. If the nobles or the high-ranked adventurers push hard enough, they can sway decisions."
Kael nodded slowly. A balance of power, precariously maintained. He could use that. If he could create a rift between the guild master and the nobles, or stir up discontent among the lower ranks, he could disrupt the entire hierarchy. And in the ensuing chaos, he could fulfill the System's contract and gain his first foothold in this new world.
"Good to know," Kael said, resuming his walk toward the guildhall. "Keep your eyes and ears open, Finn. There's more to this place than meets the eye."
Finn shot him a curious look but nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll see what I can find out."
As they stepped back into the hall, the noise and heat washed over Kael like a wave. He paused near the entrance, his eyes scanning the room. He watched the adventurers laugh, argue, and boast, each of them blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing.
Cause disorder. The System's words echoed in his mind. He now had a rough blueprint of the guild's structure and the key players within it. The nobles and high-ranked adventurers were the gatekeepers of power, while the guild master maintained order. His task was clear: find the cracks in this foundation and widen them until the whole structure shook.
Kael turned to Finn, his expression carefully neutral. "I need to blend in for now," he said, his voice steady. "Find me some small tasks—errands or missions that'll keep me under the radar. Meanwhile, I'll be watching and listening. Let me know if you hear anything useful."
"Got it," Finn replied, a hint of apprehension in his eyes. "But you better be careful. This place chews up the weak and the naive."
Kael allowed a faint, humorless smile. "I know. But sometimes, it's the weak that bring down the strong."
As Finn walked away, Kael leaned against a wooden pillar, his gaze lingering on the room full of adventurers. They were all stronger than him, more skilled, more experienced. But strength was not the only path to power. Sometimes, the quiet whispers, the subtle pushes in the dark, could shape the course of events far more than any sword or spell.
He closed his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath. The game was beginning, and he was ready to play his part. Let them think I'm weak, he thought. It will make their fall all the more satisfying when they realize the truth.