****************
LOCATION: CROWN CITY, CENTRAL REGION OF THE SILVERIA EMPIRE
09TH SOLARIS STREET – ADVENTURERS GUILD
The Adventurers Guild was alive with noise.
Voices clashed like steel, tankards clinked, parchment rustled, laughter carried across the room, and the hum of dozens of overlapping conversations filled the expansive hall. Parties from all corners of the Silveria Empire huddled together at wooden tables—sharing news, arguing over details of past commissions, or excitedly negotiating future plans.
Boots thudded across polished floors. The scent of sweat, dust, leather oil, and wild beast fur mixed densely in the air—the unmistakable fragrance of adventurers.
And yet, beneath the noise, one figure moved unseen.
A black‑hooded woman drifted along the edges of the room like a silent shadow. Her presence was so subtle it almost seemed the air bent around her, carrying attention away instead of toward her. Her footsteps made no sound. Her aura was muted, hidden deliberately beneath layers of suppression.
Only when she stopped at a dim corner, leaning her shoulder against a wooden post, did she allow her mismatched crimson‑and‑lilac eyes to lift—half‑lidded, bored, quietly observing the chaos before her.
Ha. This place is still the same.
Noisy. Chaotic. Predictable.
Nothing changed.
And perhaps nothing ever would.
She let out a low sigh. To others, it would seem like exasperation, but to those who truly knew her—if any such people even remained—it was a sound closer to resignation.
Her thoughts drifted.
…I wonder how he is.
The faintest flicker of annoyance creased her brow.
Tsk. Why am I thinking about that idiot?
But she knew why.
Because weeks earlier, she had intervened.
Because she had spared someone she was—arguably—better off ignoring.
Because of a promise.
One she had made years ago.
One she regretted at times.
One she would honor regardless.
A quiet scoff cut through her thoughts.
Why am I being a busybody again? Troublesome.
Truly troublesome.
For a moment, she considered slipping back into the shadows—remaining unseen until the noise in the guild dwindled or until the chatter shifted away from her. She could vanish in an instant if she wished. None here could stop her.
But boredom won out.
With another soft sigh, she stepped forward—out of concealment, out of the corner, out where eyes could see her if they bothered to look.
And they did.
They always did.
The instant she revealed herself, the guild's lively chatter faltered. Voices lowered. Heads turned. Conversations froze mid‑sentence.
A wave of recognition rippled through the hall.
The strongest adventurer in the empire.
The rumored calamity in human form.
The one who needed no party, no backup, no allies.
The one whose rank stood alone at the top—BLACK CARD.
She walked without hesitation through the shifting sea of people, ignoring how bodies instinctively parted to give her room. Her presence didn't emanate threat, yet every adventurer who glimpsed her instinctively held their breath.
Not out of fear.
But out of respect.
She stopped in front of the mission board—tall, sprawling, covered in parchment requests and notices. With a flick of her gloved hand, she brushed a stray leaf aside and leaned closer.
Her eyes skimmed over documents lazily.
Escort missions.
Herb gathering.
Beast subjugations.
Bandit suppression.
Urban patrols.
Regional surveys.
Nothing unusual. Nothing she hadn't done a dozen times. Nothing challenging.
She clicked her tongue softly.
Boring.
Behind her, quiet whispers began to rise again—tentative at first, then growing in number as adventurers resumed their chatter.
Even if they tried to keep their voices low, she heard every word.
Her senses were too sharp, her awareness too refined, and this room's acoustics too familiar from countless visits.
"She just appeared out of nowhere—was she already inside?"
"Probably. No one ever senses her unless she wants them to."
"So, she's taking another mission? Didn't she just get back today?"
"Yeah! I saw her submit a completed request this morning."
"And now she's already choosing another… does she ever rest?"
"Strongest rank, strongest work ethic… she's insane."
"Insanely humble, you mean. She could demand special treatment if she wanted, but she never does."
"Well, she has no party… maybe she doesn't trust anyone?"
"Then why don't you ask her?"
"ARE YOU INSANE?! I value my life!"
"Then shut up and stop provoking me!"
"Lower your voice! She might hear—"
She rolled her eyes.
Actually, I hear everything. Whisper louder next time if you're so desperate for attention.
The guild's atmosphere never changed. The gossip never stopped. The curious eyes never ceased following her. Whether admiration or fear, she didn't care.
But she wasn't here to socialize.
Her gaze drifted across the posted missions again, searching for anything remotely stimulating. She had already escorted a merchant caravan this morning—an easy but necessary assignment since she had time to spare.
Perhaps too much time.
That was why she'd slipped into the guild earlier, hiding in the corner to rest. She thought no one would notice. That was the point of her concealment.
But boredom was a stronger enemy than any monster.
Troublesome.
She exhaled and reached for a mid‑rank subjugation mission—one that most B‑rank parties would undertake. Not because she needed it, but because it was something to do. Something to keep her mind occupied. Something to keep her from thinking about him.
No.
She pushed the thought away.
Someone like her didn't get distracted.
Didn't dwell on the past.
Didn't get involved.
Except… she clearly had.
A faint memory flickered—of a forest clearing, the stench of a hybrid dragon, and a certain copper‑rank adventurer staring at her in shock moments before losing consciousness.
She dismissed the image with a flick of her wrist.
Her promise had already been fulfilled.
Her involvement ended there.
It should have ended there.
And yet…
Her mismatched eyes narrowed slightly.
There was a strange tug in her chest, a whisper of something she refused to name.
Was it curiosity?
Responsibility?
Annoyance?
Or something else?
No. It was nothing.
It had to be nothing.
She reached for another mission slip when—
"…She's still as mysterious as ever."
The whisper floated from a table nearby.
Another voice responded skeptically:
"I heard she's not even from the continent. Some say she appeared out of nowhere years ago and just… became the strongest overnight."
A third voice lowered to a hush.
"There's a rumor she doesn't age."
The woman paused momentarily—only for a heartbeat—then continued scanning the board, outwardly unaffected.
Rumors.
Always rumors.
Some wrong, some ridiculous…
but some uncomfortably close to the truth.
There was always something—
something off, something hidden, something old—
coiled around the woman in the black hooded cloak.
Not danger exactly.
Not malice.
But something deeper.
Something ancient.
Something that didn't belong among ordinary adventurers.
Her presence felt like a blade sheathed yet razor‑sharp.
Even when she did nothing, she was impossible to ignore.
Even when she stood still, the air seemed to lean away from her.
She had always been like this.
A walking contradiction.
Hidden yet seen.
Distant yet close.
Strong yet burdened.
The guild pretended not to stare, but they always did.
And she—
—always walked forward as if none of it mattered.
"…Troublesome," she muttered again under her breath.
And with that, she ignores all the stares and tensions that's happening and stared at the mission board to look for a next mission.
Her presence was heavy.
And the mystery that clung to her name grew just a little thicker.
*****************