3.

As the virtual world materialized around him, Larion found himself in a floating city, its enchanting architecture and shimmering lights casting an ethereal glow.

Suddenly, a colossal eye appeared in the sky, serving as the manifestation of the "Game Master."

It stared down at the city, its gaze all-encompassing.

The voice that emanated from the eye was both authoritative and mysterious as it welcomed the players, demanding greatness from them.

The Game Master then offered the players a chance to choose their starting cities or kingdoms and name five human kingdoms.

Aware that fewer players would select the Kingdom of Belaiv due to its declining economy, Larion saw an opportunity and quickly made his choice.

In his mind, the lower the economy of a kingdom, means that fewer players would select it if they aim for a good start.

But for Larion, it will be a resounding plan to slowly focus on surviving rather than worrying about other players he might encounter.

Once the greeting was over, all the players were transported randomly to different areas within the game world.

Larion found himself standing in the heart of a breathtaking forest, surrounded by towering trees and a symphony of nature's melodies.

With determination burning in his eyes, Larion knew that survival was his first priority.

He had to find a way to navigate through the wilderness and make his way to the nearest city, where his journey truly began.

The forest beckoned him, its secrets awaiting discovery, and Larion took his first step, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After a long and arduous walk through the enchanting forest, Larion's ears picked up the sound of rushing water.

The melodic symphony of the river beckoned him, promising respite and a chance to refill his exhausted body.

Larion followed the sound, navigating through the dense foliage and tangled roots that seemed to grab at his feet.

Each step brought him closer to the river, the expectation building with every passing second.

Finally, he showed up from the foliage and stood at the edge of a breathtaking river.

Crystal-clear waters gushed and danced over smooth rocks, casting shimmering reflections of the sunlight that filtered through the canopy above.

The air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the invigorating scent of nature.

Larion knelt and cupped his hands, scooping up the water and bringing it to his parched lips.

The cool liquid cascaded down his throat, quenching his thirst and revitalizing his senses. He drank non-stop, savoring every drop.

As the refreshing water coursed through his body, Larion's attention turned to his growling stomach.

The realistic environment of Titan's Advent was no joke; hunger built up at his insides, reminding him of his basic needs.

His body trembled with fatigue, his legs protesting from the long and tiresome walk.

Desperate to find food, Larion realized that he had no basic equipment or a map to guide him through the woods.

The realization weighed heavily on him, adding to the challenges he already faced.

With perseverance burning in his eyes, he set out to find food.

Every step was a struggle, his weakened legs threatening to give way beneath him.

But Larion pressed on, his willpower propelling him forward.

After what felt like an eternity, he stumbled upon an apple tree.

Its branches are heavy with luscious fruits, tantalizingly close yet seemingly out of reach.

Without hesitation, Larion climbed the tree, his hands grasping onto the rough bark as he made his ascent.

The anticipation of a much-needed meal filled his heart, but fate had other plans.

As he reached for a ripe apple, a branch snapped beneath his weight, causing him to lose his footing and dive to the ground.

The impact was jarring, pain searing through his body.

It was a feeling he hadn't expected, the realism of Titan's Advent proving to be a harsh reminder of his physical vulnerability.

Gasping for breath, Larion lay on the forest floor, his body trembling from the fall.

Slowly, he managed to gather himself, his determination unwavering.

Pushing through the pain, he crawled towards the fallen apples, his hands reaching out to collect the scattered fruits.

A mixture of relief and gratitude filled his heart as he realized that despite the fall, he had managed to recover some food.

His eyes then caught sight of the snapped branch that had caused his fall.

With a sense of resourcefulness, Larion picked it up, recognizing its potential as a makeshift tool or weapon.

He held it close, the rough texture of the wood grounding him in the midst of the game's fantastical world.

With apples in hand and the branch as his companion, Larion made his way back to the riverbank.

The soothing sound of the rushing water provided relief, calming his thoughts and rejuvenating his weary body.

As he sat by the river, contemplating his next move, the sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns on the water's surface.

The atmosphere was peaceful, a moment frozen in time as if nature itself had conspired to offer leisure amidst the challenges that lay ahead.

Without any time to waste, Larion knew he had to recover from his hunger and eat his fruits.

But he was not full. His stomach growling, asking for more.

Then he remembers that he had brought a branch from his fall.

He quickly came up with a plan and snapped a long thick branch out of it and reshaped it into a makeshift spear to catch fish.

The two pieces of fish he managed to catch were not enough to fill his stomach, but it was a start.

With a determined flash in his eyes, he set to work.

Using the branch he had retrieved, Larion began breaking it into smaller pieces, snapping them with the sharp rocks he had collected on the riverbank.

The cracking of wood echoed through the quiet forest, proof of his resourcefulness and determination.

He carefully selected the dry pieces and arranged them in a small pile, preparing to start a fire.

With a swift motion, Larion began rubbing the stick against the wooden pile, generating friction and coaxing sparks to life.

The air was pregnant with anticipation as he scraped tiny wooden wools as fire starters, their fibers catching the sparks and igniting into flames.

He blew gently, coaxing the fire to grow, its warmth and light comforting his weary body.

The crackling flames danced and flickered, casting a warm glow upon Larion's face.

He wasted no time, using a sharp rock to gut the fish he had caught, removing the gills and head before carefully washing them in the river.

The scent of sizzling fish filled the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the forest.

Hunger gnawed at him, but the aroma of cooking fish brought a glimmer of hope.

With each bite, Larion savored the taste of the freshly cooked fish.

The succulent flesh warmed his belly, easing the ache of hunger that had plagued him.

It was not a grand feast, but it was enough to sustain him for now.

As he ate, his mind began to formulate a plan.

Determined to find a way out of the dense forest, Larion set off once again.

With the fire now extinguished and the last remnants of fish discarded, he followed the river's path, hoping it would lead him to a road or a path that would guide him to civilization.

After an hour of trekking, Larion's perseverance paid off.

A bridge came into view, spanning the wide expanse of the river.

Relief washed over him as he stepped onto the sturdy structure, its wooden planks creaking beneath his weight.

He crossed the bridge, the sound of rushing water fading into the distance.

As Larion continued his journey, the dense forest gradually gave way to open terrain.

The towering trees and thick underbrush were replaced by sprawling fields and a clear view of the horizon.

And there, in the distance, he spotted a sight that filled him with both awe and trepidation—a sprawling city.

The city's grandeur was undeniable, its towering structures reaching towards the sky.

Larion's heart quickened with anticipation as he set his sights on reaching the walled city. However, fate had one final test in store for him.

As he approached the city's outskirts, a figure emerged from the shadows, a single bandit wielding a gleaming knife.

Larion's instincts kicked in, his training in Kali and Boxing coming to the forefront. His body moved with fluid grace, his reflexes honed by countless hours of practice.

The bandit lunged forward, but Luca dodged the attack effortlessly, his movements a testament to his strength and agility.

With a combination of precise strikes, Larion swiftly incapacitated the bandit.

The unconscious figure lay on the road, defeated and disarmed luckily.

Without hesitation, Larion looted the bandit's belongings, finding a spare knife, a small healing potion, a pouch of silver coins, and a worn but intact map.

His heart poured with relief, grateful for the stroke of luck that had come his way.

With the newfound items in his possession, Larion shouldered the bag, leaving the bandit behind as he continued his journey.

The city loomed closer, its charm lured him forward.

With each step, Larion's excitement grew, his perseverance unwavering.

Not long after, Larion arrived at the city's gates, the towering walls welcoming him with open arms.

As he entered the bustling streets, a mix of excitement and nervousness flowed through his veins.

He stood in the middle of the bustling street, the worn map held tightly in his hands.

His eyes darted across the parchment, tracing the intricate lines and symbols that marked the city he had just entered.

"Billbone City," he whispered, the name rolling off his tongue as he committed it to memory.

He now knew where he was, within the Kingdom of Belaiv.

Dressed in his fitting attire, Larion blended seamlessly with the locals.

His green tunic, black trousers, brown belt, and sturdy brown boots allowed him to fade into the crowd, becoming just another face in the sea of people.

As he observed his surroundings, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

The houses and buildings that lined the streets were like something out of a medieval fantasy setting.

Intricate details adorned the architecture, with ornate carvings and vibrant colors that brought the structures to life.

Busy stalls lined the streets, their owners shouting their wares to the passersby.

Children darted through the crowds, their laughter filling the air and adding to the liveliness of the scene.

Larion noticed the city guards, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.

Clad in full regalia, they stood tall with shields and swords at the ready, their watchful eyes scanning the surroundings.

It was clear that security was a top priority in Billbone City.

As he continued to explore, Larion's amazement only grew.

He admired the grand design of the city, the streets leading to magnificent squares and bustling marketplaces.

Nobles strolled along the cobbled paths, their elegant attire and regal demeanor setting them apart.

Locals went about their daily lives, their faces etched with grit and a touch of tiredness.

Farmers from the outskirts of the city mingled with the urban dwellers, their rough hands and weathered faces proved their hard work.

His curiosity led him to the market square, an expanse so vast that it could almost rival two football fields.

Stalls and shops were scattered in every direction, offering a colorful display of goods and services.

The air was filled with a racket of sounds, from the clanking of metal as blacksmiths worked their craft to the melodic tunes of musicians performing on street corners.

The mingling scents of spices, fresh produce, and exotic perfumes wafted through the air, creating a sensory symphony that intoxicated the senses.

But amidst the vibrant chaos, Larion remained focused on his mission.

He knew that in every game he had played, there was always a guild building catering to adventurers and mercenaries.

Determined to find it, he approached one of the local shopkeepers, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they shared a common tongue.

The shopkeeper, a weathered individual with kind eyes, pointed Larion in the direction of the "Adventurers Hall."

Following the directions he had been given, Larion weaved through the crowded streets, his excitement growing with each step.

The city seemed to open up before him, revealing a grand building that stood proudly amidst the hustle and bustle.

The Adventurers Hall, with its sturdy stone walls and intricately carved wooden doors, emanated an air of importance and adventure.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Larion stepped through the entrance.

As Larion stepped into the Adventurers Hall, the gazes of those inside turned towards him, their curiosity piqued by his entrance.

Ignoring the attention, his eyes were immediately captivated by the grandeur of the interior design.

The hall was bathed in soft light, streaming through large arched windows adorned with elegant red curtains.

A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the space.

The open area in the center allowed the second floor to overlook the bustling activity below.

Every inch of the hall oozed with elegance and complexity.

Intricately carved wooden tables and chairs were arranged in a way that invited conversation and camaraderie.

Delicate pots and vases adorned the space, filled with colorful flowers that added a touch of vibrancy to the surroundings.

It was a place that spoke of adventure, of dreams waiting to be realized.

As Larion took in the breathtaking sight, a girl standing near the entrance caught him off guard.

Her presence was unexpected, but her warm smile put him at ease.

She welcomed him to the Adventurers Hall, introducing herself as the receptionist.

"How may I be of service?" the woman asked, her voice gentle yet confident.

Her attire, a flowing dress that matched the elegance of the hall, added to the air of professionalism that surrounded her.

Larion cleared his throat, his nerves getting the better of him. "I would like to register as a beginner," he replied, his voice steady despite the flutter in his chest.

The woman handed him a piece of paper, instructing him to fill in his information.

Larion took the paper, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment, before finding a seat at one of the nearby tables.

With a focused mind, he filled out the necessary details, the pen gliding smoothly over the paper.

Once finished, Luca, now known as "Larion," approached the front desk, the completed paper in hand.

The woman reached beneath the counter, retrieving a small orb mounted on a wooden stand.

She placed it in front of Larion, her eyes fixed on him intently.

"Please place your hand on top of the orb," she instructed.

Larion did as he was told, his palm resting gently on the smooth surface.

Out of the blue, the woman asked,

"Would you like a ring, a necklace, or a bracelet?" Her question caught Larion off guard, but after a moment's consideration, he replied,

"I would like a ring, please."

With a nod, the woman began to cast a spell on the orb.

The air around them crackled with electric energy, and Larion could feel a strong magical presence building up.

His hair stood on end as the power surged through the room.

Placing the paper on top of Larion's hand, the woman continued her incantation.

A beam of pure white light erupted from the orb, enveloping his hand and the paper.

The surrounding adventurers watched in awe as the energy swirled and danced.

As the light faded, Larion's eyes widened in shock.

The paper, now transparent, had transformed into a clear transparent ring.

He stared at it in disbelief, his mind racing to comprehend what had just occurred.

Sensing his confusion, the woman explained.

"In common circumstances, for certain individuals deemed to have no elemental powers, the ring should turn white," she said, her voice filled with a hint of wonder.

The other adventurers who had witnessed this unique occurrence exchanged intrigued glances, their interest piqued by the unexpected turn of events.

However, one man from the crowd couldn't contain his skepticism.

"Perhaps the orb was already worn out and didn't make an effort to color your ring white because you're too weak," he interjected, his voice laced with skepticism.

Luca's eyes narrowed, his normally calm behavior giving way to a hint of irritation.

But before he could respond, the receptionist stepped forward, her gaze unwavering.

"The orb is functioning perfectly," she affirmed, her voice carrying an aura of authority.

"And the color of the ring is not determined by one's strength, but by something we don't know yet."

The tension in the air was palpable as the words hung there, the onlookers waiting with bated breath for a reason.

The receptionist took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Larion's.

"Whether it's a mark or a curse," she expressed, her voice resonating with confidence.

"Only you can determine which of those is the outcome. Powerless you may seem, but based on your stats, you are more than qualified to be a beginner. So I will put you under the category of novice adventurer."