Hidden in the depths of a narrow alleyway, Ambra took a cautious glance over her shoulder. Satisfied that she was alone, she carefully unfastened the temporary cloak she'd been given. She folded it neatly and stowed it in her bag. Her fingers tingled with anticipation as she reached for her new cloak, its fabric shimmering with an intricate dance of gold, wine red, and white.

Slipping her arms into its embrace, she felt an instant rush of warmth, as if the cloak itself was eager to join her. The fabric felt like an extension of her, an enchanted second skin.

"Ah, this is perfect," she murmured to herself, relishing the fuzzy comfort around her. Its soft texture was a stark contrast to the rough exterior of her old cloak. Intrigued by the elaborate gold and red patterns woven through the material, she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship.

Securing the silver half-moon fastener—the keepsake from her old cloak—she finally pulled the hood over her head. A feeling of completeness washed over her. She twirled, the fabric of the cloak fanning out like the wings of a mythical creature.

Ambra emerged from the narrow alleyway, feeling the enchanted warmth of her new cloak envelop her like a comforting embrace. With each step toward the Adventurers' Guild, the magical conductors in the fabric seemed to pulse in sync with her own energy. "This is really refreshing," she thought, a sly grin spreading across her face.

As she walked, she noticed a few passersby doing double-takes. Their eyes changed into funny shapes, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise. No longer were the gazes filled with wariness or disdain, and this subtle shift made her heart swell even if a bit slightly.

As she approached the sturdy door of the guild, she paused for a moment to revel in her flickering confidence. "Let's give them something to talk about," she thought, feeling the cloak billow gently behind her.

With a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes, she gathered a modest whirl of magical energy around her hand. Then, pushing it outward, she used it to fling the doors open with a grand, albeit controlled, force.

The hefty doors burst open as if announcing royalty, crashing against the walls with a thud. The conversations inside came to an abrupt halt, tankards froze mid-lift, and cards hovered in the air. All eyes turned toward the door, drawn by the sudden spectacle.

Taking advantage of the dramatic pause, Ambra strode in. Her new cloak fanned out around her, its intricate patterns of gold, red, and white glowing subtly as if reflecting her inner excitement. The silver half-moon fastener sparkled, catching the eye of more than one onlooker.

Feeling her new cloak billow behind her, Ambra took confident strides toward the counter, ready to finally register with the guild. She couldn't help but feel a bit giddy, eager to meet with Guild Master Baz and formalize her adventurer status.

Just as she was about to reach the counter, she heard a voice call out uncertainly, "Cloak girl?"

She turned around to find Ian squinting at her, as if he was solving a puzzle. Beside him stood Allen, a wry smile on his face as he watched Ian's befuddled expression.

"You're Cloak Girl, right?" Ian inquired, still unsure. "Just...fancier cloak?"

Suppressing a sigh, Ambra greeted them both. "Hello Ian, Allen. Yes, it's still me. I have a meeting with Guild Master Baz about registering, so if you'll excuse me..." Ambra had already seen how Ian behaved, and Ian's lack of tact was something she preferred to keep at arm's length.

Turning back to the counter, she greeted the guild receptionist—a young woman with brown hair who had seen her before and knew about her amulet of passing. "Is Guild Master Baz available? I'd like to go ahead and get my registration sorted."

The receptionist glanced at her schedule book before responding. "I'm afraid Master Baz is in an important meeting at the moment. He'll see you as soon as he's free."

Ambra's heart sank a bit. She was so close, and now she'd have to bide her time, which likely meant more interaction with Ian and Allen.

With a resigned sigh, she decided to lean on the counter, subtly positioning herself in a way that would make it less convenient for Ian to strike up a conversation. Her fingers idly brushed the intricate linings of her cloak, drawing a smidgen of comfort from its enchanted threads.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you without the Aegis.” Allen said breaking the silence, before he took a step forward, "You seem different now. New cloak, it’s a pretty nice change."

“Thank you,” Ambra smirked. "Something like that. It's amazing what a change of outfit can do for other people’s perspective of oneself."

Just then, Ian interjected, clearly oblivious to the undertones. "Yeah, but why change? I kinda liked the old, mysterious vibe. Made you look more...adventurery."

"That was probably just you," Ambra replied, choosing her words carefully. "Besides, wouldn't you agree that curious looks are better than wary stares?"

Ian scratched his head, taking a moment to process her words. "Well, yeah, I guess?"

Ambra turned her attention back to the counter, hoping that her body language would dissuade further idle chit-chat. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door behind the counter open.

Guild Master Baz appeared, accompanied by a well-dressed merchant. As they concluded their conversation, Baz glanced toward the waiting area, his eyes meeting Ambra's.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a brief but genuine smile. "Ah, Ambra welcome. My apologies for the delay. I imagine you were entertained?"

"Entertained is one way to put it," Ambra thought wryly. Out loud, she simply said, "No problem at all. I imagine the guild's business is important."

"What can I do for you today?" Guild Master Baz asked, still not aware of Ambra's intent.

With a proud smile, Ambra declared, "I've come to join the Adventurers' Guild."

Baz's eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed lost for words. "Are you... are you sure?"

The well-dressed merchant standing beside Baz tilted his head, puzzled by the Guild Master's unexpected response. "Is something amiss, Master Baz?"

Realizing he had let his surprise show, Baz quickly composed himself. "Oh, not at all. I'm thrilled to hear you wish to join our guild, Ambra. It's just that I—well, it's a surprise, that's all."

Allen, who was listening nearby, looked genuinely surprised. "Wait, you're not part of the guild yet? I was sure you were, wow." He clapped his hands lightly. "Congratulations on taking the step, then."

However, Ian was not as pleased. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just because you're mysterious and probably pretty under that hood—and hang around adventurers from the Aegis—doesn't mean you can waltz in here and join the guild like it's a tea party. You have to pass the test! I had to, so you have to as well!"

Guild Master Baz raised an eyebrow. "Under my discretion, she can join the guild without undergoing the typical evaluation. I can personally vouch for her abilities."

The well-dressed merchant next to Baz leaned in. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd be very interested in observing one of these adventurer classification tests."

Baz looked at Ambra, hesitating for a moment. "It could complicate things," he finally said.

Ian, not one to let things go easily, persisted. "Come on! If you're vouching for her, then even a part of the test should be a breeze for her, right?"

Allen tried to hold Ian back, rolling his eyes at his friend's impulsiveness, but it was clear Ian was not going to back down easily. “Sorry Ambra, Guild Master.”

Ambra considered the room, the eager merchant, the impatient Ian, and Baz, who seemed caught between maintaining guild protocol and the desire to simply admit her based on his own judgment.

Finally, she spoke up, "I don't mind taking the test. If it settles any concerns and satisfies curiosities, then let's do it."

Guild Master Baz nodded, a relieved smile forming on his lips. "Very well, a test it shall be."

Ian smirked, crossing his arms. "Good, entertainment! I get to see how strong cloak girl is."

Allen sighed, knowing full well that the definition of 'entertainment' varied greatly between him and Ian. Yet, he couldn't deny that he was also curious to see how Ambra would perform.

Ambra felt the weight of the room's eyes on her but shrugged it off effortlessly. This was her opportunity to move forward in a way, and a mere test wouldn’t really be a difficult way to do so.

Guild Master Baz led the group down a narrow hallway adorned with various memorabilia from past quests and adventures. Swords, shields, and maps decorated the walls, a visual history of the guild's accomplishments. Finally, they arrived at a plain door, which Baz unlocked with a heavy iron key.

"As I said, a simple strength test will suffice," Baz announced as he ushered everyone into the room. It was a modest chamber, furnished only with the necessary equipment for the tests adventurers commonly underwent. Against one wall sat a sleek black box, about waist-high, and covered with arcane symbols. Its surface gleamed under the room's soft lighting.

"This is our strength measurement unit," Baz explained, gesturing toward the box. "All you need to do is punch it. If you pass the threshold, it will glow. Quite simple."

The merchant, who had been following the proceedings keenly, immediately took an interest in the box. "Fascinating. How does it work?"

"It's powered by magic, I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. I didn't design it myself," Baz responded, cutting short any further questions. "Shall we proceed with the test?"

Baz leaned closer to Ambra, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "You don't have to overdo it. A moderate punch should be sufficient to trigger the mechanism and yet not draw too much attention to yourself."

Then, Baz drew away, taking his distance alongside the rest of the spectators. "Whenever you're ready," Baz nodded.

Ambra nodded and gave Baz a thumbs-up, grateful for his discreet advice. The tension in the room was palpable as Ambra took her position in front of the sleek, dark metal box. Her eyes were analytical, scrutinizing the object before her.

The surface of the box, smooth and reflective, seemed to absorb the room's light, leaving an impression of impenetrable depth. But despite its polished appearance, the concave surface where countless fists had met metal bore marks of previous tests—scratches, scuffs, and a discolored hue that spoke of its frequent use.

Ambra raised her fist, positioning it on the worn surface. For a moment, her eyes locked onto the very center of the concavity, calculating the trajectory and power she would exert in her strike. Her mind briefly replayed Baz's advice to hold back, but then, she dismissed the thought. She was here to be an adventurer, not to hide in the shadows. She wanted to stay as an adventurer, thus, her strengths would be known eventually anyway.

As she assumed her combat stance, the room underwent a palpable shift. The air, once neutral, now carried a charge—an expectant silence that weighed heavily on everyone. Even Ian, who had been engaged in a side conversation with Allen, suddenly fell quiet, sensing the change.

Guild Master Baz, who had seen numerous strength tests in his time, noticed Ambra's posture and felt a pang of realization. Her posture, her breathing—they weren't the signs of someone holding back. His eyes widened in a split-second of comprehension, just as Ambra took a deep breath.

In that suspended moment, Ambra's eyes closed. When they opened, they were a blaze of determined focus. She exhaled sharply, her muscles coiled like springs, and then she struck.

Time seemed to slow as her fist rocketed forward, a blur of speed and precision. When her knuckles made contact with the box, there was a split-second of resistance—a meeting of immovable object and unstoppable force. And then, in an earsplitting explosion of sound and light, the box cracked.

The room shook with the impact, an aftershock of raw, unleashed power. The sleek surface of the measurement box splintered, its dark metal exterior warping inward as if crumpling under the weight of her strength. Cracks spread like lightning from the point of impact, tearing through the arcane symbols.

For a second, everyone was frozen, covering themselves instinctively from the shockwave that had rippled through the room. The merchant, who had been so keenly interested in the magical mechanism, now stared at it, mouth agape. Ian, always so quick to speak, had no words—only a look of astonished disbelief.

Guild Master Baz broke the silence. "Well," he said, letting out a long breath, "I believe that's a pass."

Ambra remained in her stance, her fist still extended toward the shattered box. While the room buzzed with shock and awe, her expression was a stark contrast to the triumphant atmosphere. Her eyes were locked onto her clenched fist, concern knitting her brow in a way that no one would have expected.

To the world, her punch was a feat of extraordinary strength. But to Ambra, it was a stark reminder of something deeply unsettling—her strength was waning. It had nothing to do with her technique or her focus; she knew the cause lay in her unfulfilled, pressing need for blood.

Since her arrival in Leviel, she hadn’t consuming blood, choosing to blend in rather than risk revealing her true nature. Now, that choice was catching up to her. She estimated she had maybe two, perhaps three days at most before her enhanced abilities would wane entirely. As she pondered her dwindling options, an unsettling feeling settled in her chest.

Guild Master Baz, blissfully unaware of Ambra's internal turmoil, broke into her thoughts. "Congratulations, Ambra! You've more than earned your place here."

Ian, humbled and at a rare loss for words, managed to stammer, "Yeah, congrats, Cloak Girl."

Even Allen, who had been sheepish earlier, now smiled and clapped, fully joining the moment's cheer. The merchant, still a bit shocked, nodded approvingly.

"Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild," Baz announced, holding out a badge of membership toward her.

Ambra turned around, managing to lift the corners of her mouth into a half-smile as she took the badge from Baz. For all intents and purposes, she should have been ecstatic—she had proven her worth, joined the Adventurers' Guild, and shut down her critics in a single punch. Yet as she pinned the badge onto her new cloak, a symbol of her new life and identity, a lingering sadness tinted her moment of triumph.

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