"Alright. Here's your reward, 30,000 Rubies."
John's lips were twisted upward into a wide-toothed grin as he pulled out his money sack. His eyes shone with glee as the receptionist dropped the square-shaped gems into it. With a bow as thanks, he turned, and a radiant glow surrounded him now.
"Ah, I love payday."
It was currently midday, and anyone seeing him couldn't have guessed he'd been racked with nightmares just a couple of hours ago.
It was a skill of John's, to bury his pain and struggles. It was so natural to him that even now, despite having a smile and upbeat exterior, deep inside he was still hurting.
Regardless, he practically skipped over to his partner Ashur, who was waiting by the Guild Hall door, his arms crossed with his back against the wall. His one good eye was shut with a slight smile on his face.
"So, I just realized we never talked about payment. Does a 50/50 split sound good?"
Ashur's eye opened, and now staring at John he shook his head.
"Nah, you can keep all of it. You did most of the monster-slaying after all; I hung back for most of it. You've gotten stronger."
John swiped his nose bashfully, turning away slightly.
"Thanks. It was all because of our sparring matches. Fighting against someone of a higher caliber helps you grow. That's what my master always told me anyway!"
"That's true. Your master sounds like a wise man."
Just as Ashur started to say they could head out, he noticed that John's face which was all smiles transformed, now holding a slight frown on it.
"Hey, John?"
"Yeah?"
"We've known each other for a little bit now, and while I'm not the type to pry, I've been curious. What happened in your past? You mentioned the loss of your family, friends, and home but you never went into detail."
Talk about my past?
As the thought entered his mind, his face uncontrollably shifted. A veil of confusion was over it now, and his eyes started to water ever so slightly.
It seemed like a natural thing to do with someone like Ashur, a comrade of his. Someone who he currently shared a goal with, the goal of taking down Black Jack. However, the thought of letting the words of explanation leave his lips scared him.
He felt that if he told his story, he would fully re-live everything all over again. He'd had enough torment in his dreams, to experience it during the daytime, when things are bright and the opposite of that cold, cold night, would be too cruel.
With a hardened expression, he locked eyes with Ashur, and right as he opened his mouth to speak a loud noise cut through the air. It was the sounds of shouting and commotion.
This caught the two Adventurer's attention, making them both turn towards the Guild Hall doors. Ashur quickly opened them, the sight outside not being what he would've expected.
He saw a crowd of people, all looking at something, or rather someone, with wide eyes.
The person was a taller man, having a long spear attached to his back. His ginger hair was tied up into a ponytail, his eyes a deep orange.
His skin was tan and he had a broad face, that while not the most appealing had a certain masculine edge to it. He wore no shirt, only having a satchel strapped on his chest which acted as the carrier for the spear.
Many scars lined his body, ranging from marks made by beasts to ones appearing to be caused by steel weaponry.
Directly behind him, several other people followed, almost in a line.
They wore brown cloaks that covered their faces; having pouches and sacks attached to a belt. Despite the difference between the man in the front and those who followed from behind, they all had the same eagle insignia. Albeit the insignia was carved into the lead man's shoulder unlike on the cloaks of those behind him.
The crowd of people watching him and his entourage appeared to be civilians as they were dressed in common clothes.
The man leading continued walking until he was right in front of the Guild Hall doors. He raised his head, eyes meeting Ashur's.
During the whole entrance up until his most recent step, John had been watching in confusion. The reason for the almost grand reception of this man seemed to be privy to all but him. Unlike himself, Ashur had a focused gaze, not a glint of confusion in it.
The two men stared each other down in silence, not a word or movement being traded between them. The crowd which had been talking excitedly or just whispering to themselves fell quiet as well. The event before them was a sudden showdown.
"So, Rox. What brings you here?"
Just as the silence seemed it would reach its peak Ashur had chosen to speak first.
The tall man tilted his head to the side, his eyes staying locked with Ashur's.
"It's very important actually. I decided to try sniffing you out so I can tell you the news in person before the paper about the incident comes out."
"Oh really? Something important? That's surprising for a multitude of reasons, the main one being that no one's heard from you in months but besides all that what's the matter? What's so important that you'd need to find and speak to me directly?"
Rox released a sigh, his eyes shifting away from Ashur's for the first time.
"The seven of us A Ranks have just turned into five."
Ashur's serious and focused demeanor stayed, but his eyes, which had previously held something similar to irritation in them shifted.
At first, it was confusion that turned into doubt but upon scrutinizing every detail that could be spotted in the man in front of him it turned to worry. He stepped back into the Guild, John following suit, albeit more hesitantly than his partner.
The civilians in the crowd started whispering amongst themselves. Within the sea of voices, John picked out one in particular.
"Wait, so two A-Rank Adventurers died?"
The statement stirred in John's mind as the details of what could have possibly happened seemed more and more intriguing as well as endless. He glanced toward Ashur, but his back was facing him, as he was still walking further into the Guild Hall.
Rox then walked inside the building as well, his several cohorts following suit from behind.
"What's going on? Also, who is that scarred man?"
As they entered John whispered to Ashur.
"That scarred man is Rox, an A-Rank Adventurer like me. Based on what he was saying, he means two other A Ranks were killed or resigned. Either way, this can't be good, especially since he hasn't shown himself in a while."
John glanced over towards Rox, who was walking up to the Guild Hall receptionist's desk.
So that's Rox. I heard his title is 'Lion of the battlefield,' due to his style of fighting which is brutal and predator-like. He's only ever taken on combat-oriented jobs. Plus, when he first became an Adventurer when taking the aptitude test he easily climbed to B+ Rank just based on physicality and ability.
John suddenly felt a slight itch on the back of his neck, pulling him away from his thoughts. His eyes left Rox, who was still at the reception desk, falling on one of the cloaked figures.
To his surprise, he met a pair of sharp yellow eyes.
He couldn't see any facial features but one thing he did know was they were glaring at him. He decided to keep staring, not choosing to glare back as he had no reason to yet but it was still strange. A tap on his shoulder made him look away, however.
Ashur was motioning to follow him, and that's exactly what John did. The two made their way toward the reception desk. Rox wasn't there anymore as he was now proceeding up the stairs, heading towards one of the private rooms in the building.
"He reserved a room, correct?"
The question from Ashur caught the attention of the receptionist, who was fiddling with things behind the desk. She was wearing a pair of glasses, one that seemed a size too big as she had to keep pushing them back up constantly.
"Indeed. Since it's confidential from what I heard your partner here will have to stay behind."
Ashur turned to John, his eyes searching his. John simply shook his head, to say it was fine with him. It honestly was. Something like this was seemingly deeper and way more important than his feelings about being excluded.
Once Ashur made his way up the stairs, he followed Rox into the room, leaving John all to himself. Now having nothing to do, he walked away from the desk, feeling like a lost puppy since he was alone. He awkwardly stumbled toward the back of the room, finding a table to sit at.
Once he found the table for him he sat, pulled out his blade, and placed it on the table. He stared at it in complete silence. This was Mr. Meyers blade.
All he could do at the moment was watch it.
This was not the time to use it. The only time he'd draw it, would be when Mr. Meyers killer stood before him. He had to make things right. Whether it be to eliminate the vile organization or die trying.