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A Badge of Luck

Zarin stood awkwardly in the center of the Guildhall as cheers and laughter filled the room, still processing how he had somehow won the duel. His mind raced with thoughts of how everything had spiraled out of control, but the room fell quiet before he could figure out what to do next.

The crowd parted, and an older man with a broad, imposing frame stepped forward. He exuded authority, and Zarin quickly realized this was someone important. The man had a long, grizzled beard and a scar running across his cheek. He wore simple yet sturdy clothing that only enhanced his commanding presence.

Clapping his hands together, the man laughed heartily as he approached. “Well, well! That was some show you put on, lad!” His booming voice filled the hall as he stopped in front of Zarin. “Name’s Ordan. I’m the Guild master here at Lionhead’s.”

Zarin blinked. ‘Guild master? That explains why everyone’s giving him so much respect,’ he thought, suddenly feeling more nervous.

Ordan’s eyes gave Zarin a thorough once-over, his grin widening. “I haven’t seen someone play with their opponent like that in years.”

Zarin’s heart sank a little. ‘Play with him? I wasn’t playing—I was just barely surviving!’ But before Zarin could respond, Ordan continued.

“That footwork of yours,” Ordan said with admiration, “pretending to stumble around, making it look like you barely avoided Darin’s attacks—it was brilliant! You made him think he had the upper hand, and then—bam!—the sand in the eyes, perfectly timed. Made it look like a fluke, but I know a tactic when I see one.”

Zarin swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. ‘Is this guy serious?’ He did not know what he was doing, but the Guild master seemed convinced he had orchestrated the whole thing.

Ordan chuckled, his voice booming through the hall. “Most recruits come in here swinging without a thought, but you… you’re thinking of several moves ahead, aren’t you? Drawing your opponent in, letting them overextend before delivering the blow. Very impressive, lad. Very impressive indeed.”

Zarin felt his face heat up. He wanted to protest, to explain that none of it had been intentional, that it was just dumb luck and the dice roll that had saved him, but something held him back. ‘Wait… maybe it’s better to just go with the flow. If I deny it, people might think I’m weak or lying. But if I say nothing, I’m technically not confirming anything.’

He kept quiet, letting the Guild master continue with his praise. ‘If I stay silent, it’s not like I’m lying. I never said I did it on purpose… but never said I didn’t either.’

Ordan turned to the crowd, clapping his hands again. “You all saw that, didn’t you? A true tactician in the making. If he’s that sharp in a simple duel, I can only imagine what he’s capable of out in the field.”

The adventurers in the crowd murmured in agreement, and Zarin could feel the weight of their gazes on him. He still felt the sting of embarrassment, but there was also a strange sense of relief. ‘No one’s questioning me… they actually think I did it on purpose.’

The Guild master, still smiling, gave Zarin a firm pat on the back. “Like I said, name’s Ordan. We could use more minds like yours. Stick around, lad—you’ve got a bright future in this Guild.”

Zarin nodded awkwardly, feeling the pressure of everyone’s expectations growing around him. ‘I didn’t lie,’ he reminded himself. ‘I just… didn’t correct them.’ Still, a small part of him was uneasy, wondering how long he could keep up the act without the truth slipping out.

Still reeling from Ordan’s unexpected praise and attention, Zarin cleared his throat, sensing an opportunity. “Actually, I was thinking of joining the Guild… but I heard there’s some kind of recruiting quest involved.”

Ordan waved a dismissive hand, chuckling. “A recruiting quest? For you?” He shook his head. “Lad, you’ve already proven yourself more than enough. No need to go through the usual routine after what you just showed us.”

Before Zarin could respond, Ordan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bronze badge, tossing it casually to him. Zarin fumbled slightly but caught it. The badge had the shape of a shield, with a lion’s head carving in the center. The metal gleamed faintly in the dim light of the Guildhall.

“Welcome to the Guild, lad,” Ordan said, nodding with satisfaction. “That’s your official bronze rank badge. Wear it with pride—you’re one of us now.”

Zarin stared at the badge, turning it over in his hand. ‘That’s it? No recruiting quest, no test? Just like that?’ He blinked in disbelief, but quickly caught himself. ‘Okay, don’t question it. Just go with it.’

A familiar voice rang behind him as Zarin was about to thank Ordan. “Wait, what?!”

Zarin looked up to see Halric pushing through the crowd, his expression a mixture of shock and frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Halric exclaimed as he approached. “That’s the same bronze badge I just got after completing my recruiting quest!”

Zarin raised an eyebrow. “That was the reward for your quest?”

Halric nodded, still looking incredulous. “Yeah, I had to slay a Dire Wolf and return its fangs as proof! It took me days to track it down, and the fight nearly killed me! And you…” He gestured toward the badge in Zarin’s hand. “You get yours after one duel? That’s so unfair!”

Zarin scratched the back of his head, not sure how to respond. ‘He’s right. I didn’t even fight properly, yet I got this so easily…’

Ordan overheard Halric’s complaints and chuckled. “Ah, sometimes the path to Guild membership isn’t always the same, lad. It’s not just about slaying beasts—tactics and skill matter, too. And your friend here,” he said, nodding at Zarin, “showed he’s got plenty of both.”

Zarin’s face flushed with embarrassment again, but he shrugged helplessly at Halric. “I guess I just… got lucky.”

Halric sighed, shaking his head. “Lucky is an understatement.”

Zarin glanced at the bronze badge in his hand again, feeling its weight, both literally and figuratively. ‘Lucky indeed,’ he thought. ‘Now I’ve got even more eyes on me.’

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