Within the Kingdom of Lunaria...
Enzo, a sixteen-year-old adventurer with light brown hair and eyes, had joined the Adventurers' Guild at the age of fourteen. Despite two years of relentless effort, he had only moved a single step up the ranks—from Copper to Iron—and remained stuck there ever since.
His stagnant progress earned him an infamous nickname, uttered with a mix of ridicule and pity across the guild: The Iron Enzo.
For most adventurers, reaching Steel Rank within a year was the norm, even for those considered below average. Yet, Enzo remained at the bottom. He was often ridiculed as a disgrace to adventurers, mocked for his inability to climb the ranks.
But Enzo didn't care.
He only accepted Copper and Iron tier quests, avoiding any task beyond that. Despite this, his 100% success rate was unmatched. His quests only involved gathering herbs, guarding villages, or assisting villagers with minor tasks. And when higher-ranked adventurers mocked and physically harassed him, he never fought back. He simply focused on completing the quests he chose.
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While making his way toward the village after accepting an Iron Tier Quest from the Adventurers' Guild, Enzo halted in his tracks. The air smelled of damp earth and something metallic—blood. His sharp eyes scanned the dense wilderness ahead.
A few meters away, half-hidden among the thick underbrush, a pack of Goreboars [★★★★★] prowled. These monstrous boars were far more dangerous than normal, each one the size of a carriage with jagged tusks that could rip through solid oak. Their thick, dark fur blended seamlessly into the forest's shadows, making them difficult to spot until it was too late.
Enzo exhaled slowly.
The Adventurers' Guild classified Goreboars as five-star-ranked monsters—a threat level requiring Silver Rank adventurers or higher to handle. For an Iron Rank like Enzo, engaging them alone should have been suicidal.
But Enzo simply rolled his shoulders as he draws his blade.
"…Guess the village won't be starving anytime soon," he muttered, drawing his sword.
The nearest Goreboar grunted, its beady eyes locking onto him. Then, with a deafening roar, the entire pack charged.
Without hesitation, he lunged at the first Goreboar, swiftly cutting through its thick hide. The other boars charged at him, but Enzo expertly maneuvered between them, delivering precise strikes. Within minutes, the entire pack lay motionless.
He then took his time draining their blood, butchering them on the spot before loading them onto his back. With a satisfied nod, he resumed his journey toward the village.
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As soon as he entered the village, a group of children ran toward him, their faces lighting up.
"Enzo! Enzo!" they called excitedly.
Enzo smiled and placed a hand on his hip.
"Have you been good to your parents?" he asked.
"YES ENZO!" the children responded in unison.
Chuckling, Enzo patted one of the kids on the head before heading toward the village chief's house.
He dropped off the butchered Goreboars in the village's preserver room, ensuring they'd have enough food for days.
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Afterward, he met with the village chief to discuss the main task—night patrol.
His job was to guard the village crops from any potential threats, including goblins, trolls, and Stalkroots—mysterious plant-like monsters that lurked in the fields, stealing fully grown crops under the cover of darkness.
"Let's get started, then," Enzo said with a smile.
That night, Enzo patrolled the village fields alongside the farmers. Though the night was calm, the villagers still offered him coffee to keep him awake. Some even suggested he rest, promising to wake him if anything happened.
"I took this quest to patrol, not to sleep," Enzo replied firmly.
"But if monsters show up, we can just wake you," one villager argued.
Enzo waved him off. "By the time you run to wake me, the monsters are already gone with your crops."
The villager fell into silence, not because he had lost the argument, but because Enzo's sheer stubbornness left him speechless.
Fortunately, night passed without incident, and by morning, the village chief handed Enzo a stamped quest completion slip. As a token of appreciation, the villagers gifted him a portion of their harvest.
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Enzo accepted the reward and was about to set off toward the Adventurers' Guild to report his successful quest when the sound of hurried footsteps caught his attention.
"Enzo! Enzo! Please train us!" The village children ran up to him, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
Before he could respond, the village chief let out an exasperated sigh. "Kids, stop bothering Enzo! He has more important things to do."
Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. "It's still morning. I've got time."
The children erupted into cheers, grabbing sticks as makeshift swords before he could even finish his sentence.
With a grin, Enzo took his stance. "Alright then, let's see if you've improved since last time."
For the next hour, he guided them through basic footwork and endurance drills, correcting their posture and movements. The children, though playful, took his lessons seriously, their determination evident in their sweat-soaked faces.
As the session came to an end, Enzo clapped his hands together. "Remember to train your endurance, alright? Strength is useless if you run out of breath too soon."
"Okay!" the children responded in unison, their voices filled with enthusiasm.
Satisfied, Enzo ruffled the hair of the nearest kid before turning toward the village entrance. "Take care, everyone."
"Come back soon, Enzo!" one of the kids shouted.
The villagers waved as he departed, their expressions warm with gratitude. With the sun rising higher in the sky, Enzo set off toward the Adventurers' Guild as he waved back to the villagers without looking and submits his finished quest.