It had been a few days since the mock battle with Morgan, and the training grounds were once again quiet. The wounds had healed, but the pride hadn't. Not fully.
Now they stood before the towering spires of the Licensing Hall, a massive ivory structure lined with floating glyphs and flickering sigils that pulsed in rhythmic intervals. People came and went—some laughing with relief, others leaving in silence.
A receptionist handed over a stack of stamped, glowing cards to the group.
"Mage Licenses—officially registered under the Grand Archive. Congratulations," the woman said curtly, her words floating like magic themselves.
One by one, they read over their results:
Arashi: B-Rank.
Marek: B-Rank.
Kagetsuchi: A-Rank.
All three of them gave their own reactions—Arashi with a cocky grin, marek pumping his fist, and Kagetsuchi nodding with cool satisfaction.
Then the last one was handed over.
Zerathos looked down at it. A dark, dull card. Unlike the others, his had no glow, no sigils. Just a stamped letter:
Z-Rank.
The lowest. Not even on the traditional scale. A letter given to those with zero magical aptitude. In most countries, it was a polite way of saying: "You passed, but barely. You're not expected to survive."
Zerathos stared at it for a long time.
The others noticed, of course.
Marek tried to say something. Arashi didn't. Kagetsuchi frowned but said nothing either.
He forced a smile, tucking the license into his pocket.
"I guess I still got in," he said, voice light.
But inside?
Inside he was burning.
"Kagetsuchi's ability warps space itself. Arashi channels raw storms. Marek binds nature to his will. And me… I throw punches. Real hard."
"That's all I've ever been good at. No spells. No chants. No summons. Just fists and a body that refuses to break."
"And that was enough to take down a Guildmaster."
He clenched his hand. Felt the coarse strength in his fingers. That strange sensation in his bones—like there was something else about him no one could explain. Not even him.
He wasn't just different. He was made different.
"Z-Rank," he muttered. "Then I'll just turn that into a threat."
Zerathos stayed a step behind the others as they exited the Licensing Hall. The late sun painted gold across the cobblestones, but to him, it felt dim. Arashi was showing off her B-Rank license, joking with Merrick, who proudly waved his own. Kagetsuchi had said little, her A-Rank tucked into her sleeve like it was no big deal.
Zerathos stared at his.
Z-Rank.
It may as well have been a joke.
That's when Kagetsuchi slowed her pace and fell in step beside him.
"You really going to sulk over a letter?" she asked casually.
He glanced at her, his tone flat. "You got an A. I got… the alphabet's trash can."
"It's just a rank," she said, a hint of warmth in her voice. "And yours doesn't mean 'zero.' It means 'undefined.'"
He frowned. "What?"
She shrugged. "Your body isn't like anyone else's. It doesn't use magic—it deletes it. You shorted out Morgan like she stepped on a live wire."
He didn't respond. She gave him a sly glance.
"They can't rank what they can't measure."
He looked away. "Still feels like I'm just dragging everyone else down."
Kagetsuchi stopped, turned to face him, and poked a finger into his chest. "You didn't drag anyone. You went toe-to-toe with a top-ranked mage using nothing but your bare hands."
She stepped in closer, voice lowering just slightly.
"When it comes to physical might… I always bet on you."
Then she smirked, leaned in just a bit more, and added with a whisper:
"If all four of us jumped you at once, I think we'd still lose."
Zerathos blinked. His brain stalled for a second—just long enough for her to pivot away, already walking ahead like she hadn't just said that.
"Now come on. Don't make your team's A-Rank wait around for the Z-Rank brawler."
She tossed a wink over her shoulder.
Kagetsuchi's smile softened, a strange warmth behind her eyes.
"You know… for the one who saved me back then, you really haven't changed."
The words hit him harder than he expected.
12 YEARS AGO
He was only five.
Too small to fight. Too bold to back down.
The chain clanked as a man dragged a girl—Kagetsuchi, just seven years old then—by her wrist. She'd already stopped crying. Resigned to whatever came next.
But then came the rock.
Zerathos hurled it with every ounce of rage in his tiny frame.
It hit the slaver's shin, bounced off, and earned a laugh.
He braced for the blow.
And then—
The ground trembled.
A shadow fell across the slaver's face. A presence. Not a man. Not really.
His brother had arrived.
Not with magic. Not with theatrics. Just power—the kind that made the world lean away.
The chains melted from sheer pressure in the air. The slaver didn't run—he collapsed, as if fear had turned his bones to ash.
Zerathos remembered how Kagetsuchi had looked up, stunned and blinking.
And how his brother's voice rumbled like a storm:
"You touched something you weren't meant to."
Now, twelve years later, Kagetsuchi placed a hand on Zerathos's shoulder and smiled.
The Next Day
By noon, they weren't slaying monsters or trekking through cursed forests — they were buried in paperwork.
Stacks of forms, registry documents, and legal enchantments sprawled across the long wooden table like an academic battlefield. The Mage Association's Licensing Office was packed with adventurers, scribes, and the occasional bureaucrat with a flair for dramatics.
"This is hell," Marek muttered, slamming his head gently against a parchment labeled 'Independent Guild Founding Petition — Form C'.
"You're the one who said we should make our own guild," Kagetsuchi replied, arms crossed, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
"I thought it'd be cool!" Marek groaned. "I didn't think we'd need a blood signature for five separate magical background checks."
"They have to make sure we're not a death cult," Arashi chimed in.
Zerathos sat silently, scanning the terms. For someone with no magic, his sharp eyes caught more discrepancies than the others. He passed a corrected form back to the clerk without saying a word.
Eventually, after hours of frustration, ink-stained hands, and a magically binding oath, they stood before the registrar with their final decision.
"Guild name?" the woman asked, not even looking up.
Marek grinned. "Brave Heart."
Kagetsuchi raised an eyebrow. "That's what we're going with?"
"Too late," Arashi said, already signing the name on the last sheet. "It's got a good ring to it."
The clerk finally glanced up, unimpressed but efficient. "Brave Heart Guild officially registered. Congratulations, you're now legally insane."
A shimmer of magic rippled across the papers, locking their guild's name into the records of the Mage Association.
Zerathos stared at the name.
Brave Heart.
It sounded… earnest. Hopeful. A little naive.
But maybe that's what the world needed right now.
The building looked like it had been abandoned for at least a decade. Cracked stone pillars, broken windows, half the roof caved in, and what used to be a fountain in front was now just a nest for raccoon-like gremlins.
"…So this is what we're working with," Marek said, hands on his hips, eyes glittering with what could only be described as completely irrational optimism. "With the right vision, this can be amazing."
"It's literally a ruin," Kagetsuchi muttered.
"Exactly! A blank canvas!"
Zerathos didn't say much. Instead, he walked over to what remained of a collapsed wall, gripped a massive support beam — easily over 100 tons — and lifted it like it was just a piece of plywood. Without a word, he carried it over and set it into position where the new framework would go.
"…Okay, that's hot," Kagetsuchi said under her breath before snapping her fingers and casting Phase Grip. Chunks of stone floated around her like obedient satellites as she directed them with casual flicks, slotting them perfectly into position around Zerathos' placement.
"I think that wall's crooked," Arashi called out, hovering lazily as his rainbow dragon tail flicked. "Or maybe I'm just seeing seven dimensions again."
"Get down here and hold something, Rainbow Lizard," Kagetsuchi snapped.
The dragon groaned and floated down, managing to knock over a pile of already stacked wood on the way. "Oops."
"Stop being goofy and focus," Marek yelled, directing everyone like a theatre director possessed by ambition. "Zerathos! Those pillars to the left — perfect. Kage, raise the platform five inches higher! We want symmetry!"
Zerathos blinked. "You sure? It'd be more structurally sound lower."
"I don't care. It needs to look cool."
As hours passed, dust clouds rose, beams flew, rubble was cleared, and the broken husk of a forgotten building slowly transformed. Maybe it wasn't perfect — the door still creaked, and Arashi painted one side with sparkly stars for no reason — but it felt like theirs.
A place born from strength, sweat, magic, and way too much arguing.
Their home.
The Brave Heart Guild HQ.
Still standing, barely.
But standing.
Later that evening, after a long day of fixing up the guild building, Zerathos stepped out of the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder.
Zerathos:
"Dinner's ready. I made enough to feed a war camp."
He brought out two massive trays—piled high with grilled meat, rice, vegetables, and a bubbling stew pot so big it looked like it belonged in a tavern.
Before he could even set it down properly, Arashi was already at the table, scarfing down food like she hadn't eaten in weeks.
Arashi (mouth full):
"Mmph—this is so good!"
Marek nearly dropped his spoon.
"WOAH! Stop! I need to eat too, Jesus!"
Kagetsuchi chuckled while floating a bowl toward herself with her phase grip.
"You really expected her to wait?"
Marek threw up his hands.
"She just inhaled five plates in five seconds! That should be illegal!"
Zerathos blinked.
"I thought I made too much. I underestimated her again."
Rainbow Dragon (drifting lazily above the table, gnawing on a glowing turnip):
"Rumor has it Arashi's stomach is a dimensional rift."
Arashi, licking her fingers:
"Hey, don't hate just 'cause I refuel fast."
Marek, snatching a plate before it vanished:
"Refuel? You ate more than a dragonoid berserker in heat!"
Everyone burst out laughing, and for a moment, the newly-formed Brave Heart Guild felt like home. Chaotic, loud, and a little bit insane—but undeniably theirs.