Chronicles of The God Slayer of Shadows-Chapter 37 - Thirty Seven

The violet portal deposited Adrian and his companions in the desert once more, under a sky painted gold by the setting sun. Ahead of them, shimmering on the horizon, was a city, Dawnfire. The last major bastion of civilization before the Wastes.

Massive sandstone walls ringed the city, inscribed with ancient wards. Towers rose high, crowned by elemental beacons — flame, water, wind, and earth, burning in defiance of the wilderness beyond.

"Welcome to Dawnfire," Fenrik grunted. "You'll find opportunity... and danger in equal measure." Galvir added, "If you're serious about growing stronger, lad, you have two real choices." He held up two fingers.

"The Aegis Academy, where the brightest talents of the realm are trained to be heroes and lords."

"Or the Ironbrand Guild, a powerhouse guild that controls half the dungeon expeditions in the Wastes." Adrian stared at the bustling city gates, feeling the weight of the decision. One road led to structured growth.The other, to raw survival and bloody ambition.

[System Notification:

Quest: Choose Your Path

Join the Aegis Academy Or join the Ironbrand Guild.]

[Reward: Specialized Training, Exclusive Dungeon Access, Rare Equipment.

Failure: Reduced Growth Rate.]

"This too counts as a system quest?" Adrian weighed his options carefully.

He needed strength. But he also needed freedom to pursue the Godslayer fragments and prepare for the storm to come. The Ironbrand Guild offered that flexibility. Fenrik clapped him on the back. "Good choice, pup."

....

The gates of the Bastion rumbled open, a rare event this far from the heartlands. Caravans, refugees, and adventurers filtered through — dusty, worn, desperate for entry.

Among them walked a lone figure walking with two men, a werewolf and a dwarf. A cloak tattered by desert storms covered the strange boy's face. Strange, dark energy pulsing faintly from him despite his attempts to hide it. His scythe, disguised under cloth, shimmered faintly with an ominous aura.

Atop the Bastion walls, stationed in ivory armor that gleamed in the dying sun, stood Inquisitor-General Vaelen, the Watcher of the Eastern Gates. Beside him, a frail priestess of the Order gasped, clutching her relic. "My Lord," she whispered, fear rippling through her voice, "The Seals... the ancient wards... they're stirring."

Vaelen's sharp, pale blue eyes narrowed, focusing on the ragged traveler below. He watched the Shadow aura flicker faintly around the boy — something only those attuned to the divine could even sense. But there was something wrong. Something ancient. Something... forbidden.

He turned to his elite knight-captain and spoke coldly. "That one... he carries an echo of a dead ere from the books of the Ancient One. Dispatch the Seekers. We will know his origin. If he is what I think he is... he must not be allowed to awaken fully."

Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance — though no storm clouds stirred. Far below, unaware of the sharp gazes fixed upon him, Adrien adjusted his cloak, moving deeper into the city, toward the unknown future that awaited him.

.......

They entered Dawnfire under the rising moons. And thus, Adrian, unknown to the world yet destined to shape it, took his first steps into the heart of mortal power.

The Ironbrand Guild was as brutal as its reputation. The headquarters was a sprawling fortress of black steel and stone, banners depicting roaring lions stitched into the walls. Inside, battle pits raged day and night. To join, Adrian had to prove himself. He was thrown into a trial against three existing Ironbrand initiates — all of them higher level, stronger, faster.

Armed only with his basic Umbral Constructs, Adrian fought savagely. He weaved daggers and spears mid-combat, using agility and precision instead of brute strength. Fenrik and Galvir watched from the stands. Nyxaris howled encouragement from the shadows. When the dust settled, Adrian stood victorious, battered but unbowed.

[System Alert:]

[ Title Gained: Ironbrand Initiate]

He had earned his place.

The next few weeks blurred into grueling training and low-tier dungeon runs. Adrian fought goblin packs, minor constructs, even rogue elemental beasts. Each time, he adapted. Each time, he grew. Nyxaris evolved alongside him — gaining new abilities that complemented Adrian's combat style. Fenrik became a mentor of sorts, drilling him mercilessly. Galvir provided rare potions and tactical advice.

And Adrian listened. Because he knew he was racing against time, against the rising tensions between vampires and werewolves... and the Order of Light who surely hunted him now. Enemies hidden behind a mortal veil intensified their efforts to rid him. He needed to grow.