The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 237: The Adventuring Guild

Chapter 237: The Adventuring Guild

Dyson took Rasce’s offered hand, grunting as he struggled to his feet. Being pushed to the brink of death was extremely difficult on one’s body, and even though his wounds were healed, his body had yet to fully adjust to it. Taking a deep breath, and ran a hand over the smooth, unbroken skin of his chest before looking at me in wonder.

"Thank you," he said simply.

I blushed a bit, shifting awkwardly. "It...it was my fault. I’m sorry."

As I sought somewhere other than his sincere face to look, I caught sight of a glint of red steel beneath one of the cloaked corpses. Fable cocked his head curiously, trotting beside me as I approached and knelt beside the body.

A golden emblem had fallen out of the man’s pocket when he died, lying on the ground beside him. A tremble ran through me as I touched it, tracing over cold steel. It was fashioned in the shape of a rune, "wealth," with a sword stuck through it.

Rasce laid a hand over my shoulder, leaning over to peer at it. "Recognize it?" he asked slowly.

I flinched at his touch, and after a shallow breath, nodded. "There was a merchant wearing something like this in Westfall Village. H-he looked at me, and..." I trailed off, not entirely certain how to explain the feeling. How could someone who’d never been enslaved and tortured possibly understand the sheer terror inflicted by the gaze of a slaver?

"He looked at you?" Rasce asked skeptically. Suddenly his grip on my shoulder tightened and his eyes narrowed. "No, that’s not insignificant. Come, we need to go."

He snatched the emblem from my palm and placed it in his spatial treasure.

"Do you recognize it?" Dyson asked.

Rasce sighed long and hard before replying. "I’m afraid so, though it’s likely to be troublesome. It’s the symbol of the Unbroken Chain Trading Company. They’re relatively new to the area but considered a powerhouse and economic influence in most major cities of the Northern Continent. I’ll give you one guess as to their primary goods."

I shivered, grateful now for the two men’s presence. "The Circle of Chains," I whispered, "It can’t be a coincidence."

"Let’s get to the inn. I don’t want to have to explain this to the guards. With how corrupt they are, I’m certain they’ll have been bought already," Rasce said grimly.

As we left the alley, a wave of weakness swept through me, and I swooned, growing dizzy. Dyson was there in an instant, grabbing my hand, and Fable pressed against me with his flank, supporting me.

"Sorry," I murmured, rubbing my aching head.

"You’re pale," Dyson said laying a hand on my forehead. "And cold."

"She’s used too much mana," Rasce said, stroking his chin. "Are you feeling well enough to carry her? Tana threw up for hours last time she did that, and didn’t fully recover for a few days."

"I’m fine," I protested weakly, "Just a little tired."

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I had asked far too much of my soul and was now paying the price. As I had learned in the Ice Gate, using exterior mana placed an enormous burden on the soul, especially if it lacked the foundational strength required to cast higher-circle spells. That, combined with my efforts to heal Dyson by burning my soul, left me weak and helpless, unable to channel a thread of mana. The constant ache of my shattered soul was back in full force, filling my soul with scourging fire.

Before I knew it, we were heading through the streets once more, Dyson cradled me in his arms, holding me tight against his blood-stained chest. My thoughts drifted, and I idly wondered whether the cleaning spell I knew would be able to draw blood from satin, and not just silk or cotton. It was such a beautiful dress, and Tana had helped me choose it, so I didn’t want it to get ruined.

I shook my head, trying to force the murk and cobwebs away. This was no time to be thinking of such trivialities, as only now did I remember the reason I had fled in the first place. The thought sent a thrill of fear through my trembling body, and I wriggled in Dyson’s arms, turning my head to look up at him.

"Dyson," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper, "Not the inn. Please."

"Rasce," the thief called, not hesitating in the slightest, "let’s head to the adventuring guild. Whatever spooked her in the first place might still be there, and until we know the story, let’s play it safe. The guild master might have an extra bed or something available."

Rasce paused for a moment, and then nodded. "You go on ahead, I’ll grab Sorrin and Tana. They were targeted by the Circle of Chains as well, and might be in danger. They should be at the inn, right?"

"Yeah, that was the plan, in case she came home on her own. Stay safe!"

With that, Dyson turned down the next street. The hour was late, but as ever, the streets were hardly abandoned. People stopped and stared at us, curious about a blood-stained man carrying a young demonkin girl. A few tried to ask questions, but Dyson blew by them all. His strength was recovering quickly, and his pace quickened, until we rushed through the streets at supernatural speed. I squeezed my eyes shut, clinging to him tightly, as we continued to recklessly accelerate. A fourth-level human was capable of tremendous speeds, and Dyson seemed more than content to abuse it.

Before long, he came to a rather abrupt halt, stopping before a large, four-story building. Even in the dark, it was impressive, with beautiful statues, molding, and ornate carvings. The entire structure sparkled with protective enchantments, with even the weakest being fourth circle.

"Adventuring Guild," I read slowly, looking up at the large, carved sign that dominated the entrance.

Dyson nodded. "Yeah, it’s our guild, and-wait, did you just read?"

Pink tinged my cheeks, and I looked down at Fable, who walked beside us. Although he was smaller, his head was still nearly level with Dyson’s chest. "Well, I can, um, kind of read when he’s around."

"I see," he said after a moment. "In any case, shall we go in?"

I squirmed in his grip, and he reluctantly put me down. I tried to take a step, but my leg buckled, and he caught me again.

"Sorry," I muttered, summoning my staff and leaning on it.

"Are you sure you want to walk? I don’t mind carrying you," he said, letting his hand rest between my horns fondly. I relaxed at his comforting touch, but as his fingers brushed the rim of my horns, I suddenly recalled I wasn’t supposed to like that sort of thing.

"No, thank you," I said quickly, ducking away. "I’d be too embarrassed."

"That’s not so bad," he murmured, idly stroking his chin. "You’re awfully cute when you’re embarrassed."

I squeaked, blushing, and Fable growled softly, staring daggers at the thief. "It’s alright," I muttered, petting his head, and the wolf calmed. It took me a moment to realize Dyson had done the same thing just moments before, and I turned to glare at him.

Chuckling, Dyson pushed through the door. But before he entered, he turned to me and said, "One more thing. If anyone asks, you’re a tamer. They’re a special kind of ranger who can bond with animals. Even if Fable looks a bit unusual, no one will question you that way."

I nodded, and we entered. I was expecting something similar to an inn, but the reality of it blew away my expectations. The building was far larger on the inside than I ever could have guessed from its appearance, the first floor alone stretching nearly thirty feet high and almost two hundred feet long.

The front counter stood at the center, manned by guild representatives ready to assist adventurers with their inquiries. A large quest board adorned one of the walls, covered in parchments detailing various missions. Adventurers gathered around, discussing potential quests and forming groups.

Dyson guided me further into the guild’s common area, a vast space where dozens of adventurers mingled. The air was filled with the hum of excitement and camaraderie. Different races and beings from all walks of life conversed animatedly, sharing tales of their exploits or planning their next adventures.

Tables and chairs were scattered across the room, creating pockets of strategic planning and socializing. Banners adorned the walls, displaying the feats of renowned adventurers and giving some sort of ranking. My eyes quickly found a long, draping flag bearing the symbol of the Glory Chasers hanging only a handful of spaces away from the beginning.

Our appearance caused quite a stir in the common area, with adventurers peering at us closely. Whispers rose like waves, traveling back to the edges of the room, and eyes collected on my demonkin attributes like moths to a flame. Only a handful of souls were stronger than third level, but I still shrunk under the pressure, clinging as closely to Dyson as I could. Fable stalked uneasily behind us, but even his strange, corrupted appearance lacked the same stir.

For his part, Dyson stood tall and proud, striding without the least bit of concern. His torn, bloody armor drew no comment. If anything, that was a common attribute amongst the adventurers. There were very few who wore new or perfectly whole equipment. Many of the experienced ones kept their weapons and armor clean and polished, but most seemed content to let it sit in various states of disrepair.

A pretty woman in her late thirties stood behind the counter, arms folded beneath her breasts. She watched us coming with a slight smile, an expression that only widened as she met my timid gaze.

"So, the Glory Seekers finally thought to swing by with their new recruit!" She said loudly.

"The Glory Seekers?"

"No way! I can’t believe that’s them!"

"Idiot, didn’t you see the emblem on their cloaks? How could you not recognize one of the strongest guilds in the city?"

Her words caused quite a stir, but proved helpful as the rumors shifted off of me and onto our adventuring team. I stared around with wide eyes, caught off guard by the rumors. Were the Glory Chasers really that notable? They felt perfectly average to me, but perhaps that was only a bias from my experiences among the Sun Hero’s party.

"Hello, Irene," Dyson said, flourishing his charismatic smile. "As you say, I’ve come to ensure the registration process goes smoothly. Among other things, that is."

The receptionist’s eyes narrowed at his seriousness and she leaned forward, keeping her voice low. "Might this have something to do with your investigation?"

"Perhaps, though the link isn’t clear. Let’s just say we left several unwelcoming bastards in an alley a few streets over. They had a golem with them."

Her hand flew to her mouth, suppressing a gasp. "I’ll notify the Guildmaster. He’s currently attending to business, but he informed me he’d see the demonkin the moment she arrived. I can only imagine how’ll he respond now that you’ve actually been attacked. Please, wait over there," she said, pointing to a nearby table.

Dyson nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me over to a chair. I collapsed gratefully onto the hard wooden seat, leaning against the backrest and closing my eyes. Fable sat down gazing at the adventurers surrounding us warily, before fully curling around my chair. His head pushed under my hand inviting me to pet him.

No sooner had we sat down than curious presences surrounded us, slowly closing in like sharks in the water. No matter how tired I was, It seemed our night was only beginning.