As the new dawn bathed the guild in warm light, the echoes of triumph reverberated through the hall. Laughter and clinking glasses created a festive atmosphere, but in the corner, the squad of four sat in contemplative silence, their victory weighed down by the lingering memory of the recent battle.
Creed, his hands tightly gripping his mug, broke the quiet, "We were too weak back there, despite all the blessings we got from a goddess." The frustration in his voice mirrored the shared sentiment of the group.
Kyru, a toothpick dangling from his mouth, leaned back in his chair, staring pensively at the ceiling. Risky, arms crossed, finally vocalized the unease, "We faced a demon lord and came up short. That's not something to take lightly."
Shiiyo, ever analytical, added, "Demon lords are a force to be reckoned with. Their powers are unparalleled. We need to find a way to level the playing field."
In the midst of their heavy sighs, Mori, perceptive as ever, noticed the group's somber mood. He approached with a casual stride, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "My, what's with the long faces, friends?" he inquired, picking up on their collective unease.
Kyru, attempting to deflect, responded, "It's nothing, probably just too tired from all of that, that's all." Mori, not easily fooled, offered a reassuring smile, "I may not know exactly what happened, but I do know one thing: you all gave it your best. And besides," he gestured toward the other adventurers who were now raising their cups in a toast to the squad, "the whole guild seems to think you were pretty amazing out there."
The guild hall buzzed with celebratory energy as adventurers shared tales of the recent battle. A seasoned Paladin approached Creed, admiration in his eyes, and said, "Creed, your frontline defense was nothing short of legendary. You held the line with the strength of a thousand shields, a true embodiment of a Paladin's might."
Nearby, a skilled healer praised Risky, "Risky, your healing prowess saved lives out there. It's not every day we see someone seamlessly switch between offense and healing. You're like a guardian angel on the battlefield."
A sharpshooter from the archery section approached Kyru, acknowledging his marksmanship, "Kyru, those shots of yours were nothing short of artistry. Precision, timing, and pure skill, you turned the battlefield into your canvas, and each arrow hit its mark."
A mage, impressed by Shiiyo's magical prowess, commended, "Shiiyo, your magic provided the backbone of our strength. From support spells to devastating attacks, you were like a maestro orchestrating the elements. You turned the tide with every incantation."
As the compliments echoed through the hall, the four adventurers were visibly stunned and exchanged glances, a mix of pride and humility on their faces. Creed, breaking into a smile, raised his mug and declared, "Can't be helped, everyone. Thanks for the hard work. Here's to more adventures to come!" The guild erupted in cheers, toasting to the camaraderie forged in the crucible of battle.
In the dimly lit back alley, the ambiance shifted from the lively chatter of the guild to an eerie silence. Risky's comrades continued their celebration inside, oblivious to his clandestine dealings. As he stepped into the shadows, the atmosphere became laden with an unspoken tension.
Risky's eyes narrowed as he faced the mysterious stranger, the hushed conversation barely audible over the distant hum of the guild. With a sly grin, the hooded figure produced a pulsating blue orb, the ethereal glow casting an unsettling glow on their surroundings.
A shiver ran down Risky's spine as he examined the orb. "Is this what you want, right?" the stranger inquired, the smirk hidden beneath the shadows of the hood. Risky's gaze remained fixed on the glowing sphere. "Is that what I'm thinking it is?" he questioned, his tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
The stranger, reveling in the ominous air, began to explain. "This is the orb that holds the power to bring back the dead. Mister, what do you want from it exactly?" Risky's eyes gleamed with intent, but he remained cryptic. "It's none of your business. Hand it over," he demanded, the urgency palpable in his voice.
The stranger, undeterred, tucked the orb away with a taunting flourish. "Uh, ah, ah, everything comes with a price, you know," they teased, their words lingering in the air like a sinister whisper.
Risky's frustration manifested in clenched fists. "What is your price?" he demanded, the gravity of the situation settling like a heavy fog. The hooded figure chuckled malevolently. "It's not 'what'; it's 'who.'"
In the shadows, Risky steeled himself for the impending revelation. "Tell me the name," he pressed, the weight of the decision echoing through the dimly lit alley. Unbeknownst to Risky, the mysterious stranger stood firm, silently listening to his desperate plea, all while the ominous consequence of their pact loomed on the horizon.
As Risky stepped back into the lively guild hall, the sounds of laughter and clinking mugs filled the air, creating a lively symphony of celebration. Seating himself beside Shiiyo, he made an effort to immerse himself in the festivities, attempting to cast aside the weight of the recent clandestine encounter.
However, Shiiyo, always perceptive, detected a subtle shift in Risky's demeanor. It was as if his thoughts were adrift, carried away by the echoes of the shady transaction. Concern etched on his face, Shiiyo leaned in, a hint of worry in his voice as he asked, "Hey, dude, everything alright?"
Risky, wearing a smile that sought to reassure, shook his head, dismissing the concern. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a passing thought. Don't worry about it. Let's soak in this moment, shall we?" Despite his attempt to brush off the unease, there was an unspoken tension lingering beneath the surface.
Determined to conceal his inner turmoil, Risky seamlessly joined the dancers, moving to the rhythm of the lively celebration. He mingled with fellow adventurers, losing himself in the jubilant atmosphere. However, Shiiyo, unable to shake off the lingering suspicion, kept a watchful eye on his friend. The festivities continued, but an unspoken question lingered, casting a shadow over the otherwise joyous occasion.
As the festivities continued within the guild hall, the gradual descent of the sun cast a warm, amber glow over the scene. Unbeknownst to the revelers, Creed walked through the bustling streets, the echoes of their recent confrontation with the demon lord resonating in his thoughts. The vivid memories of battle replayed in his mind, underscoring the challenges they faced against such formidable adversaries. Lost in contemplation, he weaved through the crowded streets, his focus on the ground beneath his feet.
In the midst of his introspection, Creed inadvertently collided with a passerby. "I... I'm sorry, I wasn't looking. Are you alright?" he apologized, his ingrained sense of courtesy taking over. When he looked up to see who he had bumped into, a moment of surprise crossed his features – it was none other than Leona, one of the captains of the royal knights.
Leona, adjusting her posture gracefully, responded, "I am sorry as well." Their eyes met, and a glimmer of recognition crossed her face. "Oh, it's you, Sir Creed."
After the initial exchange of greetings and apologies, Leona couldn't help but pose a casual question to Creed, "What are you up to, by the way?" She noted his reflective demeanor and the telltale signs of recent battle. Creed, momentarily distracted by Leona's more relaxed attire, quickly refocused. "I've never seen you in this casual attire, Lady Leona."
Leona chuckled, "Please, since I'm not working, call me Leona."
Taking the opportunity, Leona suggested, "How about we take a walk?" She then delved into a more personal inquiry, "So, tell me, why the long face?" Creed, still amazed by Leona's perceptiveness, replied, "Well, I was just thinking that I'm still lacking the skills, that's all."
Leona smiled at his honesty, "Most warriors hate losing, but only a few admit that they are lacking in strength. You, on the other hand, acknowledge your weakness, and that's what makes you a better person." Creed paused for a moment, clenching his fist. Leona noticed his contemplation and asked if there was something wrong.
Building up the courage to express his request, Creed looked at Leona and said, "Leona! Please, teach me how to wield a sword!" Leona was momentarily surprised by his direct request, but then a smile crept across her face as she accepted his offer to train under her supervision.