When it was their party's turn, a gaunt-cheeked guard lowered his halberd to block the way.
"Routine inspection." The guard's voice was raspy and cool. "Names, origins, purpose of visit, and present your identification."
"Adventurers," Marcus answered tersely. "They're with my party. We're here to turn in a quest at the Association."
He pulled a bronze badge from his pocket and handed it over—the identification issued by the Adventurers' Association.
Its surface was smooth from years of friction, engraved with Marcus's name and an emblem of crossed swords and a shield.
Gray and Vallis each drew their badges and handed them over. Zelier remembered that he had one as well; after fumbling through his clothes, he produced his and presented it alongside theirs.
Unlike the bronze badges of the other three, Zelier's was made of plain iron, looking rather humble by comparison.
The guard took them, glanced over them, and confirmed their identities were in order.
Next, his gaze swept over the men themselves.
Bulging packs reeking of foul blood, dried stains spattered across their clothing, and Gray's bare, injured arm. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The guard nodded slightly and returned the badges to the party. "Welcome back to town. Go get that wound tended to."
Raising his halberd, he let them pass through the checkpoint.
Stepping into Blackstone Town, an entirely fresh scene unfolded before Zelier's eyes, accompanied as if by the melodious strum of a lute in his ears.
Most of the town's buildings were two-story structures with stone lower levels and timber upper floors, topped with dark red or brown tiles. The main thoroughfare was paved with bluestone slabs of varying sizes, flanked by shallow drainage ditches dug along the sides.
The clamor of hawkers peddling their wares, the rhythmic clang of the blacksmith's forge, and the boisterous banter of passersby mingled together, instantly pulling Zelier back from the monotony of the Ashwood Forest.
Before him stood a vibrant world—one completely unlike the concrete-and-steel jungle of his past life.
A stout matron in an apron bustled outside a bakery, arranging a freshly baked basket of fluffy bread dusted with powdered sugar onto the display shelf.
A bard sat at a street corner, singing of the great deeds of heroes as poignant melodies flowed from his strings.
Adventurers sat in groups of two or three at open-air tables, wiping down weapons while loudly boasting of their exploits on their latest missions.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!"
The shout startled Zelier.
He hastily took two steps back as a farm cart drawn by a draft horse rattled past at full speed, nearly colliding with him.
"What's got you daydreaming while walking? Drained your energy casting too much magic?" Vallis patted Zelier on the head.
"No, I just..." Zelier took a moment to find his words. "I just think it's wonderful."
Vallis gave him an odd look.
After traversing two streets, the party finally arrived at the Adventurers' Association.
It was a rugged, rustic building.
The main structure was three stories tall, framed in timber and stone. Years of wind and sun had weathered the exterior walls into mottled patches, and above the entrance was a relief of crossed swords and a shield, faded with age and marred with scratches of varying depth.
Pushing the doors open, a wall of boisterous noise washed over them.
"Mist Cave goblin subjugation quest, need a frontline vanguard!"
"Gnoll clearance in the depths of Ashwood Forest! Need two warriors to rip the heads off those bastards! Fair pay, equipment wear covered!"
"Caravan escort quest! Rangers preferred, at least Low-Tier rank required!"
Enthusiastic shouts recruiting party members rose and fell in waves, buzzing in the ears. The faint scents of blood and sour sweat mingled together, stoking the bustling atmosphere.
The scene inside the Association was much as Zelier had envisioned.
A massive stuffed wolf's head mounted on the wall, stacks of empty wine casks in the corner, and adventurers with all manner of weapons slung at their waists—everything was filled with the wondrous sights that belonged only to fantasy novels.
Zelier could distinctly feel his heart beating faster.
This place was packed with men who lived on the edge of life and death. Every day, adventurers fell on quests, yet fresh blood flowed in without end.
For money, for ambition, and because they refused to live ordinary, mediocre lives.
Familiar with the routine, Marcus squeezed through the crowd toward the counter. The receptionist was a young woman with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.
"Hello, I'm receptionist Ella. How may I help you?"
"I'm here to turn in the wolf subjugation quest."
Marcus unslung his cloth sack and emptied a pile of skinned left wolf ears onto the designated counting tray.
"Very well."
Ella first searched through the records. Once she confirmed the quest, she began counting the wolf ears with a plectrum.
"Thirty-six wolves in total. According to the quest terms, your reward comes to one hundred and eight silver coins."
"Good," Marcus said. "I also want to report an encounter with a monster."
"A monster encounter?" Ella knitted her brows slightly.
"Yes. We encountered a juvenile Mist Demon," Marcus said.
"That thing...?"
Ella's expression grew somewhat grave.
Though a juvenile Mist Demon was not as dangerous as an adult, a monster rated [Challenge] was no laughing matter. This was a lethal threat that had to be reported.
"In which area did you encounter the Mist Demon? What creature's body parts were grafted onto it? It couldn't have been moving very fast, or escaping it would have been difficult..."
Faced with Ella's pressing questions, Marcus merely shook his head.
"We didn't run. We killed it."
"..."
Ella's brown eyes widened slightly, and a brief hush fell over the hall.
The loudly conversing adventurers cast glances their way, their attention captured by Marcus's words.
"You... killed a juvenile Mist Demon?" Ella asked in astonishment.
Marcus said nothing more. He reached into his pocket and produced a thick cloth-wrapped trophy.
Seeing this, the skeptical adventurers had no choice but to believe Marcus's words.
The prism crystal shrouded in swirling mist was, without question, a Mist Demon magic core!
"Marcus's party actually took down a Mist Demon..."
"How did they manage that? The energy barrier over a Mist Demon is practically immune to all physical attacks. An adventurer party I knew was wiped out by one."
"I know Marcus—he's a low-tier warrior who hasn't mastered battle aura yet. Gray and Vallis are about the same... Did that rookie break the energy barrier? I heard he's a mage."
"I saw him a few days ago. Name's Zelier, I think... To think a mage would actually come to the Adventurers' Association to take quests these days. How rare..."
Chapter 10