Stormfang glided through the clouds, descending over the towering white walls of Silvergate City, the largest hub in the region. The skyline was a blend of ancient structures and modern reinforcements, with magical wards glowing faintly at the top of every tower.
They landed just outside the city's northern gate where the Hunter Association Registration Hall stood — a massive stone building with silver inlays and two towering statues of cloaked warriors flanking the entrance.
"Alright," Selene said as they dismounted, "Let's get registered. The tournament officials are also inside."
Zairon cracked his neck. "Let's get it over with."
Inside, the hall was filled with dozens of aspiring hunters, each lined up in rows. Magic crystals floated above their heads, scanning and registering cultivators as ranks glowed into existence on enchanted boards behind them.
One by one, they stepped forward.
Selene: A-Rank.
Kaelra: B-Rank.
Airi: B-Rank.
Then came Zairon's turn. The clerk looked up. "State your name and rank."
Zairon smirked. "Zairon. Rank… currently C."
The clerk blinked. "Currently? That's... oddly specific."
The crystal shimmered, and "C-Rank" lit up. Whispers passed through the crowd — some amused, some confused.
Zairon didn't care. His eyes were already on the city beyond.
Once the registration was complete, they stepped through the gates, entering Silvergate City.
Zairon's eyes wandered — wide cobbled streets, stone buildings with magical lanterns hanging from rooftops, stalls overflowing with potions and beast cores. But what truly caught his attention were the people.
Elves, tall and graceful, brows high and eyes gleaming like moonlight, strolled elegantly through the markets, drawing admiration from all.
Dwarves, short and stocky, barked orders from blacksmith stalls, hammering enchanted metal with sparks flying.
Beastmen, with animalistic traits like tails, ears, or fur, walked with pride — clearly the city's frontline fighters.
"Interesting," Zairon muttered. "Elves — the beauties. Dwarves — the blacksmiths. Beastmen — the warriors."
As he passed a corner, he overheard a heated conversation — whispers about hidden trafficking rings, underground slave trades, corrupt guilds — even here.
He narrowed his eyes.
"So crime rots even this place too…"
But then he looked up at the soaring towers, the bustling strength of the city, the sheer scale of what lay before him.
"Still… this place isn't ready for me. Not yet."
"If I want to conquer this city, I should at least be… S-Rank."
He clenched his fist. "Still a long way to go. But one day… this city will kneel to the Sovereign Legion."
With a grin tugging at his lips, Zairon turned back to the girls. "Now then, where do we sign up for that tournament again?"