As soon as he stepped inside, Orson felt as though every gaze had fallen upon him at once, sending a sudden chill down his spine.
But after checking more carefully, he realized that everyone's attention was actually focused on guild master John.
Orson assumed it was simply because he was the tallest in the group, making him stand out.
As for John, upon returning, he noticed quite a few people gathered together, whispering and discussing something.
Being the leader, it was his duty to manage and remain vigilant in case of unexpected issues, so he immediately approached and asked:
"What's going on?"
One of the adventurers replied:
"It's nothing serious, guild master. We just noticed a child in the camp, so people got curious."
John: "A child? Here?"
"Right over there."
Turning his head toward the indicated spot, John immediately saw what they meant.
At the base of a leaning tree, a black‑haired boy lay wrapped in a blanket, lost in a peaceful sleep.
Orson: "Oh, isn't that…"
Hearing Orson's tone, as if he recognized the child, John turned to him and asked:
"You know him?"
Orson: "We met once at the guild. That child is also an adventurer."
John: "Ah, a young adventurer?"
He wasn't particularly surprised.
As a guild master, John knew well that many children registered early as adventurers and took on simple tasks.
Still, this place was far from safe for a child to be sleeping so carelessly. With that thought, John decided to walk over and take a closer look at the boy.
John bent down and said:
"Come on, child, wake up. This isn't a proper place to sleep."
The boy cracked one eye open, then quickly shut it again, muttering irritably:
"Don't mind me. I'll sleep a little longer and leave on my own."
Hearing this, John suggested:
"Then how about I lend you my tent to rest in for now?"
The child replied:
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'm fine right here."
He burrowed deeper into the blanket wrapped around him, clearly signaling he no longer wished to talk.
Seeing this, John gave up on persuading him and stood up.
As he considered whether to have someone carry the boy to a safer spot, Orson stepped up beside him and said:
"Just let him sleep here. That kid can protect himself. You don't need to worry."
John: "Oh? For you to say that… is the boy really that strong?"
The guild master's curiosity was evident.
Orson: "Stronger than most adventurers here, I'd say."
This assessment shocked not only the guild master but also everyone nearby.
No one had expected a rank‑B adventurer to give such high praise to a seemingly harmless child sleeping peacefully under a tree.
In truth, the mere fact that the boy could continue sleeping calmly while surrounded by a noisy crowd was already remarkable in many eyes.
Now, hearing Orson's evaluation, people began casting doubtful, questioning looks, both at the rank‑B adventurer and at the child himself.
Receiving those skeptical stares, Orson chose not to explain further.
Many things are hard to believe unless one experiences them firsthand. Orson did not feel any obligation to explain himself to anyone.
Guild master John, though surprised, seemed to accept Orson's assessment.
Because of that, he couldn't help but take another careful look at the boy lying there in quiet sleep.
The more closely John observed, the more unusual details he noticed.
It seemed that some kind of defensive magic had been secretly placed around the area where the child slept.
The child lay with one leg bent, as if always ready to move swiftly at a moment's notice.
Beneath the blanket draped over him, there seemed to be a weapon hidden. Judging by its size, it was most likely a sword.
Looking up toward the top of the tree, John spotted a strange dark‑feathered bird perched high above. From his knowledge, no such bird should exist in this region during winter.
With his seasoned experience, John sensed that it was not a natural creature, but something controlled or summoned by someone.
John: "…"
He wondered if he was overthinking, yet it felt as though the boy was surrounded by layers of precaution, even in the smallest of details.
Still, with many pressing matters at hand, once John realized the child could protect himself, he chose not to dwell further. He decided to leave the boy where he was and walked away.
As he followed the guild master, Orson glanced back once more at the child's resting place.
There was a suspicion in his heart that he did not voice to anyone:
"Was his presence here merely coincidence… or something else?"
In the days that followed, Orson often found himself thinking about the Goblins' deaths. Each time, the image of the black‑haired boy resurfaced in his mind, inseparable and haunting.
* * * * * * * * * *
After guild master John and Orson had left for quite some time, many people still lingered nearby, keeping an eye on the boy who was asleep.
In fact, hearing Orson's unexpected evaluation only fueled their curiosity, and adventurers often passed through the area to take a look.
"What do you think of Orson's remark?"
"I feel like he must have overdosed on something."
"Are you serious?"
"Alright, no more jokes. Orson must have had his reasons for saying that. But still, it's hard to believe. Is that child really that strong?"
"If you're that curious, why not wait until he wakes up and test him yourself?"
"Don't try to provoke me. If you want to test him, do it yourself. I don't want to be the guy who beats up a kid, or worse, gets beaten up by one. Either way, it ruins my image in front of the female adventurers."
"What image do you even have to protect?"
"Damn you, draw your weapon. Let me test how strong you really are first."
"As if I'd be afraid of you… Wait, when did that kid disappear?"
Both turned toward the leaning tree where the boy had been.
At some point, the black‑haired child had quietly slipped away, vanishing just as silently as he had appeared.