Thunder rumbled ominously in the air as Alan stood at the edge of the small hill, the place where he had buried William.
Behind him, the Nighthound shuffled restlessly, its usual energetic demeanor replaced by a subdued whimper. Alan didn't turn to look at the beast; his focus was elsewhere, on the small pouch in his hand.
The pouch rattled softly with the weight of several Beast cores, each one glowing faintly with the residual energy from the dungeon raid.
Alan's fingers tightened around the bag as he thought about the ones he had lost, the precious crystals that had been on his fallen teammates.
They had been destroyed along with the dungeon, turned to dust when the place collapsed. His lips curled into a bitter smile as he muttered,
"Well, it doesn't matter."
Despite the loss, he knew this would be worth far more than the few coins he could make tinkering with carriages in the Mechanic's workshop back in his past which was surprisingly about a few months ago.
That life felt like a distant memory now, the mundane tasks of fixing wheels and greasing gears a far cry from the rank he had stepped into.
But the weight of his debt still hung over him, like a shadow he couldn't escape. That was why these crystals were so important. If he played his cards right, they could be the key to buying his freedom — or at least making a dent in the massive debt that had been accumulating for far too long.
The wind picked up, tugging at the collar of his cloak, and Alan shivered. It felt like rain was coming, the kind of storm that made you feel like the sky itself was trying to crush you with its weight.
He glanced up at the darkening clouds but didn't make any move to seek shelter yet.
His eyes were on the Nighthound, still pacing anxiously behind him. Alan reached down, tapping the small orb that held the creature's form. The orb pulsed with light as the Nighthound appeared inside it, its features briefly flickering before the orb dimmed and the beast was safely stored within.
It was a low-tier beast storage orb, the kind that was common but not particularly efficient.
Alan's brow furrowed in frustration as he thought about upgrading it to a higher-tier one, but that was an expense he couldn't afford yet.
Still, he would need to get one eventually, especially with how valuable the Nighthound's abilities were. But for now, he needed to focus on what was in front of him.
"Well, I better find somewhere to wait out the storm," he muttered, shaking his head and pushing forward.
The wind whipped through his cloak as he began to run, but his speed — his newfound speed — allowed him to cut through the wind with ease.
He moved like a blur, his steps light and swift, the power coursing through his legs a welcome change from the slow, laborious movements of his past.
As the cold air hit his face, he felt alive in a way he hadn't in years, though he forced himself to calm his racing thoughts.
This small town wasn't much, but it had a Tamer's Guild, and that's where Alan was heading.
The Guild would offer him more than just shelter from the storm — it was the best place to offload the crystals he had collected.
He wasn't sure how much they were worth yet, but he had no intention of selling them at a loss. With his debt still looming over him, every coin he earned had to be spent wisely.
The money he made from this raid had to be enough to pay off a significant portion of what he owed, but that wasn't going to be easy.
The amount on his head was far more than he could handle alone.
As he pushed forward, the winds grew stronger, and the first few drops of rain began to fall, hitting his face like icy needles. His thoughts shifted, focused on the task ahead.
The Tamer's Guild had to be able to give him a fair price for the crystals. He hoped so, anyway. The Guild's reputation in this town was decent enough, but he wasn't about to take their word for it.
Alan needed to know how much everything was worth, from the smallest shards to the larger, rarer pieces he'd managed to secure. If he could get a fair deal, it would ease some of the burden of his debt.
It wasn't long before he found the building he had been searching for. The Tamer's Guild stood tall and imposing, a stark contrast to the quiet, humble town around it.
The structure was massive, its stone walls weathered but sturdy, with large wooden doors at the entrance.
Despite the peacefulness of the town, the Guild was a place of action, a central hub for tamers, beast hunters, and anyone with an interest in magical creatures.
Alan approached the building with a sense of purpose. He hadn't been to this Guild before. He'd done his research, and now it was time to see if he could make the most of the chance he'd been given.
As the rain began to fall harder, he pulled his hood over his head, ducking inside the Guild's entrance.
The warmth inside hit him almost immediately, a welcome relief from the biting cold outside.
The air smelled faintly of wood and leather, and the sounds of soft conversations and the occasional laughter echoed through the large hall.
A few tamers were clustered together, talking animatedly about their latest adventures, while others sat at tables, scribbling notes or haggling over beasts.
Alan's eyes quickly scanned the room. He wasn't here to socialize. He was here to get a deal and leave.
The sooner he could sell the crystals, the sooner he could start paying down his debt. As his gaze landed on the front desk, he made his way toward it, purpose in every step.
"Can I help you?" The receptionist, a young woman with short, dark hair, looked up from the ledger she was scribbling in, her expression polite but slightly distracted.
"I've got some crystals to sell," Alan said, his voice steady but firm. "And I'd like to know what they're worth."
Her eyebrows lifted at the mention of crystals. "Well, you've come to the right place. We buy and sell all sorts of beast-related goods. Let me see what you've got."
Alan placed the pouch of crystals on the counter, careful to make sure none of them fell out.
The receptionist inspected them briefly, her eyes gleaming with interest as she examined the varying sizes and colors of the stones.
"These are high-quality goblin cores," she said with an approving nod. "From a B-rank dungeon no doubt, how did you get them?"
Alan hesitated for just a moment before answering, "A recent raid."
Her eyes scrutinized him, there was something about him – the aura he gave off… it felt godly in a way, or maybe it was just her imagination.
The receptionist's smile faltered slightly, but she didn't press. "I can help with that. Let me check with the Guildmaster. We'll get you a fair price."