Chapter 16 - Four Years (Patreon)

In the Forest of Beginners, somewhat deep inside, I was concealed in the brush. Something in the distance caught my eye—and the smell. The scent of death and decay lingered in the air. My breath was steady as I stared ahead, my hair and face damp with sweat from the forest’s humidity.

I was fourteen years old with about four years of experience moving in and out of the area. I was very familiar with the scents and sights of the woods. None of what I was registering were good signs.

The forest was vibrant and overgrown. The miasma that enveloped the entire area caused the flora to grow to unnatural proportions. The grass was taller, the plants larger, and the trees bigger than anywhere on the uninhabited outskirts that lacked such concentrated mana.

Amongst the beauty was death. Before me, in the gaps between leaves, I saw decaying grass, ashen soil, and falling leaves devoid of color. Even worse, there was a choking, oppressive silence surrounding the space—minus the noises from the creatures that caused this carnage.

“Hexcervus,” I muttered. “About twenty of them. Their corruption is far along—six eyes on each side of their heads and one in the middle. The horns look more like spikes, they’re thin, and their teeth are pointed like carnivores,” I analyzed. “But the eyes haven’t made it to their bodies, and it’s easy to tell what type of creature they once were. They’re a step above Feral, so Savage Tier monsters.”

The Hexcervus were corrupted animals who’d stewed in a dense miasma of mana for so long that it distorted their physical makeup. I’d stumbled upon their territory and found their home. The area they slept in was decaying, and there were dead animal carcasses and two humans around them. They grazed on the bones and tattered flesh, crunching them with their sharp teeth and mouths that opened from their snouts to the tops of their chests.

“Should I deal with them?” I asked myself after observing the herd for a while. “Or not?”

The pros and cons played out in my head.

The Guild ranked jobs on Tiers 1 to 4, with levels associated within each Tier to classify them further. A Tier 1 quest ranged from Level 1 to 4 difficulty. Before assigning values, the Guild usually estimated factors—the job, environment, time to complete, dangers, and importance.

A quest to send a letter from Port Prosper to Sandy Branch would likely be considered a Level 1 job at most while broadly being in the Tier 1 category for Beginners. The monsters before me were classified as Savage Tier in the Guild system. Killing a single Savage Tier monster might be a Level 2 or 3 quest, depending on the type, but with so many, it’s probably more like a Tier 2 quest, though a low one. Probably Level 5.

That same ranking system was given to individual guild members and their groups. Individuals were given a level based on their eye color, skills, knowledge, quest completions, gear, and more. Individuals were assigned levels from 1 to 20. As long as an individual’s level lined up with a Tier, they could accept any job in that Tier. Completion increased their reputation and the possibility of them going on more challenging jobs.

The system was so comprehensive, it was naturally integrated into the public conscious as a gauge of power, and therefore affected our codexes. A Level would appear on them from 1 to 20. I was a comfortable level 6, with all factors considered. Given that the vast majority of people never broke level four and I was still very young, it was a phenomenal feat for my age.

“Let’s call this a Tier 2 job,” I muttered while gazing at the creatures. They were nipping at each other, fighting for scraps, while letting demonic-sounding chirps and whistles ring in the air. “It’s the hot season. More adventurers are in town now than at any point of the year. There are a lot of experienced ones and many newbies. This could be good practice for a somewhat seasoned group.” I paused. “But they’d also wipe out a group of beginners in seconds.”

A slight pang of guilt ran through me as I considered simply leaving. The fact that I had stumbled upon them, and they couldn’t see me yet, put me in a highly advantageous position to get almost all of them in one shot. I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit excited.

“Didn’t I hear something about a group of Hecervus attacking a group of Adventurers that went into the forest?” My gaze drifted to the human corpses in their pile. Two of the monsters were fighting over an arm. They tugged at it between themselves, clamping the shredded, broken limb in their jaws. “I should take care of this,” I decided. “It’ll be good practice. I can try to extend my blade again.” I sighed. “The millionth time’s the charm.”

I channeled wind mana into my leg and arms, circulated it evenly while using my core as a base like a true Expert in the Warring style, and quietly tore away from the bushes.

A massive tree was nearby. I jumped at it, made it halfway, pushed my foot against it, used that as support, and bounded into the massive branches cast overhead. From there, I leaped from branch to branch—the size of three people laying next to each other—until I was closer to the herd of Hecervus.

Overhead, I briefly examined the scene. I had a tentative plan, watching from a distance. Making a few corrections, I started my ambush.

Mana flowed through me. The marks on my fingers and wrist glowed white with power. My eyes did the same.

All twenty of the Hecervus were huddled in a tight circle.

I leaked my external mana out of my hands until I felt a connection with the ground they were standing on. I felt them move and eat in my arms as the soil vibrations I’d attached to tacitly connected my sense of touch.

I traced my hands in a circle around the Hecervus. The mana in the ground tightened and concentrated at my whim, following that pattern until they were in a circle.

“No running for you,” I remarked, quickly flicking my fingers up.

Instantly, the ground around the Hecervus rose into a massive wall higher than five people standing on each other’s shoulders.

The pack of Hecervus recoiled. They chirped and whistled, confusion bustling through them as they tightened in the center. Their gazes focused on the walls. The ones that were eating dropped their food. They sensed the danger. They gnashed their teeth.

I changed the mana within me to fire. Pressing it out of my hands, I coalesced it into a very, very tight ball in my palm that brimmed with power. Flashes of orange highlighted my skin and hands while illuminating the trees around me brighter than the day’s sun.

“Hopefully, some of you will get away,” I muttered. “Don’t let it end too quickly.”

I flicked my wrist containing the small fireball and aimed it directly in the middle of the circle.

It exploded on impact.

Flames molting with red and yellow colors blossomed in the circle. Distorted shadows of the Hecervus moved within as their chirps and whistles morphed into unearthly screams.

Immediately, I felt an energy inside my blossom at their deaths. It was an expected feeling, given my actions. Whenever someone who’d awakened killed something that also used mana, a partial surge of the dead one’s lifeforce moved into the killer. The same thing likely happened when I killed Turk, but I was so shocked and pained by the circumstances I didn’t even notice. It was probably one of the many reasons I recovered faster than Nigel at the time.

The sensation now felt like a reward. There was a slight splash of dopamine, a minor reduction in mana exhaustion, and a stimulant given to my muscles. If my eyes were brown, getting this “feeling” enough times would stimulate my mana reserves, expand them, and shift my eyes to green. Since I was already at the peak of mana with white eyes, though, all it did was give me an ecstasy lift, a small recovery, and encouragement.

“Never face someone head-on if you can stab them in the back,” I muttered, recounting one of the many things Tart told me when I wasn’t training with Barcus or Jessie. It was a mantra I agreed with, given all the time I spent hunting as a kid.

Three shapes darted out of the flames before me, screaming. Two went left while a lone figure went right. The seventeen other Hecervus didn’t move again. Their bodies crackled limp and lifeless within my flames.

“Sword time,” I decided.

I stood, stepped off the branch, and dropped to the ground. Right before my feet touched the grass, I lifted my entire body with an upward gust of wind. I still dropped to the ground without hesitation, but the momentum was killed. It felt more like I was walking down a single step rather than falling multiple floors from a tall tree.

I clapped my hands and opened my codex. My right hand plunged into the first opened page and drew out a thin, curved saber with a sharp tip at the top. Immediately, I crouched, surged wind mana into my limbs, and sprinted at the lone fleeing Hecervus at unnatural speeds. Its back was to me, and its neck was extended perfectly for me to slice.

Effortlessly, I passed it, flicking my right arm delicately as my steel crossed through air, flesh, and bone.

“Rapture,” I said, stopping a few spaces ahead of the Hecervus.

My actions caught up to the monster. It stopped moving. Its eyes flared. Then, its head dropped blankly to the side. Blood vented out of the severed wounds as the body flopped pointlessly to the ground.

I shifted my gaze to the two fleeing Hecervus as a wave of pleasure moved through me from my kill. “One more time.”

Again, I fueled wind mana into my legs and arms, chose a target, and performed Rapture. There were two monsters: one on the left and one on the right. I felled the one on the right with a single slice. Its head tumbled like my prior prey.

The second creature noticed this, took a defensive stance, and turned toward me. Its needle-like horns were pointed directly at my chest. All six of its eyes were trained on me, angry.

“Now, now,” I cooed at the remaining monster. “Give me a second. I’m trying something.” I pointed my free left hand at the dirt beside the creature on its left. “It’ll only take a second.”

My mana connected with the ground. I flicked two of my fingers at the Hecervus. Immediately, a giant spike of tightened sediment punctured the monster on its flank.

The Hecervus screamed. Its mouth opened wide, revealing jagged teeth from its head to its throat. Six tongues licked outward like squid legs and swished in the air, angry and searching for the source of the torment.

I opened my fingers, and the spike branched out like a tree. The condensed sediment exited several other parts of its body.

“Perfect.” I steadied my breath, held out my sword, and channeled water mana internally. It raced through me, slowing down time and heightening my perception.

Performing a function I had many times before, I flowed the mana into my blade. Particles of white blossomed out of the sword like snow. Eventually, the entire blade glowed white with energy. “Don’t stop short.”

I swung my blade.

An arc of energy moved outward, extending the cut of my blade exponentially.

Don’t fizzle out…

The energy made contact. My eyes widened, and shock overtook me.

The Hecervus split open like a peeled fruit to the middle of its torso. My attack had made contact. My mana extended the length of my blade. I felt it connect in my hilt, hit in my arms, and slice through like any normal cut.

“I did it,” I muttered, speechless. “I’m a Master.”

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“Doo doo, da da doooooo!” I skipped back into town with a large grin on my face. “Ba dada ba bum bum BAP!” I twirled, stretched out my arms, slid left, then lept into the air. “I am the best. Because, of course, I am,” I sang.

It took three years of dedicated training, multiple injuries, and countless failures to the point where I burned down a large section of forest out of pure frustration. Still, I had finally done it: I achieved Master status in the Heavenly style.

I became a Heavenly Expert a few weeks after the Trailblazers left with Quintin’s help. Learning how to channel wind mana into my arms and legs simultaneously took a year to become a Warring Expert. Mastery of the Heavenly style required three years of dedicated training on top of that, and I still did it years quicker than I should have.

“Three options next, then,” I said, not bothering to stay complacent. “Try to become a Warring Master or learn the Chaos style. I use the Warring style so much for traversal and ambushes. The next phase would require me to increase my speed and run vertically and horizontally wherever I wanted at will, regardless of terrain. That’d be useful, but I imagine failure will lead to many painful lessons,” I mulled. “Don’t know really anything about the Chaos style. I could try to figure it out. All it takes is molding Earth mana internally, I had done that a few times to up my strength. But that wasn’t the actual style with moves, forms, and abilities. I’d probably need someone to teach me the basics first, and Bydon didn’t do that.” I sighed. “Wished they’d come back already.”

I thought of Nigel for a moment, and my heart pinged with a strange feeling. My face flushed, and I gripped my chest.

“I wonder what he looks like now?” I asked myself quietly. “He’d be sixteen. I bet he’s tall.” I shook my head. “Focus, Yen. Focus. You are a strong person. Not a creep.”

I’d gotten used to my emotions since unlocking them four years ago. Granted, they were burdensome at times, but they made me a better person. I’d have argued that they made me stronger, too, since I could view issues outside myself and see a broader picture. Before, I was only concerned about things that affected me. Instead, I thought of the future and the people around me. My community. My world.

If I had seen those Hecervus without my emotional relapse, I’d have probably left them for someone else to fend with. I didn’t need to kill them to get stronger, but other people did. Sure, I perfected my Heavenly Mastery because of the fight, but I’d have done that some other time due to my persistence.

Even if the Hecervus ended up killing adventurers, I wouldn’t have considered that a negative either. If that had happened, then the price for killing them also would have gone up, and it’d have eliminated weak adventurers from the market, reducing overall fatalities in the profession and discouraging those without the abilities to fight from taking such risky jobs. That’s how I would have thought of everything.

Instead, I thought about the victims, their families, the people that knew them, the fear in the community, and all that other burdensome crap that made me all weepy and unreasonable. And I didn’t think of them as a calculation. Their feelings and experiences naturally floated to my mind because I could relate to any loss they might have had.

I preferred things that way.

Just walking through my village, I appreciated it for what it was, not that it provided me with the resources I needed to live.

My eyes drifted across the cobblestone streets and single-story buildings littering the town. It had expanded a bit in recent years, but it still looked mostly the same as what I remembered as a child.

Adventurers were bustling about, talking and gossiping in mass. Everyone kept their weapons in their codex, but they still wore armor. Most of them were young, in their late teens and early twenties. There were a few older people guiding flocks of younger adventurers, but they were rarer. Seasoned vets didn’t tend to choose this area. The pay wasn’t as good, and the monsters weren’t as strong.

A couple of kids ran past me. They knocked my side lightly. “Sorry!” They yelled back without looking at me, their laughter ringing in the air.

“Thirty coins?! For a short sword?! Here?!” shouted an adventurer outside of Harkin’s shop. “You’re ripping me off!”

“Then take your business elsewhere,” replied Harkin. His arms were crossed over his chest. “Won’t bother me none.”

“There is no one else!”

Harkin snorted. “Yup. You want it?”

“…twenty…”

“Twenty-five.”

“Deal.”

I passed the shop without a word.

There were a few new stalls in town, given the time. Merchants tended to shift to this area in the hot season due to our yearly harvests and proximity to the Forest of Beginners. I watched people purchase potions, monster parts, and mana crystals.

“Maybe I’ll get a better price with them,” I muttered as I watched Crude Crystals get exchanged for twelve coins. I shook my head. “Nah. Got a deal with Bruno and Tannin. They’ve helped me out too much.”

Whistling, I made my way to Beginner’s Rest. The outside was busy. The inn had set up an outdoor beer garden to welcome new visitors. I walked by it, earning a few glances, before entering the inn.

The inside was just as busy as the exterior, except people were eating. Bruno was busy manning the bar, and employees were running through, passing out plates of food and beer.

As my gaze fluttered around, looking for Tannin, an adventurer bumped into me. He looked to be a decade my senior. “Sorry, little lady, I—” The man stopped talking when he saw my eyes. He scoffed. “Fucking devil. Get out of the way.” He shoved me aside and rejoined his friend at a nearby table.

Shame and pain flooded through me. Before, I could ignore how others treated me. It didn’t even register in my mind to care because their actions were so pointless. Things were different post-Turk. I felt small, pathetic, and unwanted. I wondered why I was hated because of my ears and thanked the Gods that I had the willpower to cut off my horns every few weeks.

I subconsciously fiddled with the top of my head. The flat groves of my severed horns bothered me. I’d cut them so close to the skin a few days ago, and they were already starting to grow back. They’d have to be cut again soon, and that irked me. It felt like I was hacking off a limb each time. The process was necessary, though. My horns were too long to keep hidden with my hair anymore.

“If only I could solve you like I did my eyes,” I muttered, fiddling with the blindfold over my face Jessie gave me years ago. It was an Arcwork, so I could see when it was on clearly like it wasn’t even there. Its only purpose was to hide my eyes, and it didn’t hinder me in the slightest.

I adopted the blindfold since the marks on my fingers and wrists only glowed white when I used mana. However, my eyes were a daily burden with a white color that never faded, and having really long bangs was a problem when fighting and moving at high speeds.

Instead of being the creepy devil with long hair covering her face, I was the weird forest devil who wore a blindfold everywhere. But I smiled more and was generally kind to everyone I met, so I noticed a stark change in how others treated me. Drastically so. Smiling, skipping, and singing seemed to defuse people’s natural aggression. I wanted to do that anyway since I was mostly happy, so it was a bonus to see that it made others like me more for the most part.

“Wish I’d stop dwelling on stuff,” I said as I slapped my face. Recharged, I lightly pumped my fists in the air by my cheeks. I could almost feel my eyes sparkling. “Find Tannin.”

It took a while. I had to weave through the patrons, but I kind of already knew where to look. By the bar on the side near the back was the Guild’s board, where runners for the Guild brought quest contracts that people could accept. Sure enough, Tannin was there arguing with a group of three adventurers.

“They look young,” I noted. “Older than me, but not as experienced as they could be.”

There were two guys and one girl, all humans. Two stood behind the other party member, a somewhat tall boy with black hair and an assertive stance. I could tell from the movement of his jaw and the flippancy of his hand gestures that he was the leader and was arguing profusely with Tannin.

“Bet they’re not that experienced or not good at what they do for her to step in.” The black-haired boy looked to be in fine condition, but the other two were littered with cuts, bruises, and bandages. “Perhaps both. They’re definitely a Tier 1 party. Probably level 2 or 3, with all things considered, if I had to guess.”

I weaved closer until I could overhear what they were saying.

“You need more experience before you can take on jobs like these again,” said Tannin sternly to the black-haired boy in front. “I can’t, in good conscience, let you accept contracts like this anymore.”

“We’re a Level 3 team,” argued the black-haired boy.

“And maybe you shouldn’t be.”

The boy’s body tensed. “Let us worry about ourselves.”

“It’s against the law to willfully feed monsters or demons,” chided Tannin. “If you need work, I’ll give you work.” She turned to the board. “There are a few from Doctor Bink you could take. He needs his herbs restocked. There are lower-level quests to remove Feral-Tier monsters at the forest’s edge.”

“We’re better than that,” complained the boy. He turned on his heel. “Don’t waste our time.” He sighed, scratched his head, and stomped away. “We’ll be back.” As he passed me, I heard him mutter, “Shitty town,” before storming off. His two friends followed awkwardly after him. The lone girl in the party waved apologetically back to Tannin before the entire group left the inn.

I pondered their situation for only a brief moment before turning to Tannin. She was by herself, and this was the perfect opportunity to get what I needed done. “Yo!” I raised my hand with a smile as I approached her.

Tannin looked me over. “What’d you bring me today?” she asked without hesitation.

“Bring you?” I wondered calmly. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Yen—”

“I did find something curious while out foraging for food, I will admit,” I said. “It’s funny. Someone killed a pack of Hecervus out in the woods. No one had claimed them, and they all still had their crystals, and they were even uneaten.” I placed a hand on my chest and smiled. “Luckily, I was able to store them in my codex. Do you mind looking over them? Maybe…offering something for them?”

Tannin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just give me the pages.”

“Right!” I materialized my codex, flipped the page, tore out one, and then tore out the one behind it. “Here you go.”

The first page contained the intact corpses of the Hecervus. Tearing them out took mana from me, as they needed energy to include them in the pages without falling out. It was honestly a feat no one in the village but I could do without passing out, I suspected. The page contained a general image of the carcasses, line-item descriptions, conditions, and a bunch of other information that automatically concluded, thanks to the power of the codex. The second page contained the twenty crude mana crystals I harvested from the corpses, the lowest grade of them all.

“There’s twenty of them and twenty crude crystals,” Tannin told herself. I saw her pale slightly then smirk. “Why, if someone had killed all these themselves without a party, they’d be one of the strongest people in the region.”

“A large group of adventurers must have done it then. Or there was a territorial dispute with a group of stronger monsters,” I said quickly. “So, how much can you give me for retrieving them?”

“For the crystals, I can give you a standard price of 10 coins per crystal, so 200 in total.”

“Perfect!”

“And…40 coins per Hecervus corpse.”

My eyes narrowed slightly. “Why 40? That’s on the low end. They’re Savage-Tier monsters, and there was a large pack of them…that I…found. And almost all their parts are still intact.”

“And if this were the reward for a job, the pay would be better, but this is about the quality of the product in question,” replied Tannin. “The page says most of them are burned, so their hides and organs will have deteriorated. Some of their eyes melted, and that’s a prime ingredient for alchemy. The horns are in good condition, as is their blood, and their meats are still intact, so they’re not worthless. That’s why I’m giving you 40 per corpse.”

“Three of them aren’t burnt,” I noted while pointing at the paper.

“One was stabbed and cut so much it’s mostly just chopped meat,” read Tannin while glancing at the paper. “Almost like a giant spike ran through it, and then it was cut in half. The other two are missing their heads, but they still have signs of burns and damage. They’re of higher quality, but let’s call it even since I’d have to reject the first corpse. Lump sum. 40 for them all. That’s 800 in total. You want it or not?”

“Fiiiine!” I placed my hands behind my head. “That makes 1,000—more than most people make in a month. I’ll take it.”

“Then please hold for a moment.” Tannin took the two sheets and walked into a backroom by the Guild board, likely to store the codex sheets in a safe until she could find buyers in the market or elsewhere. She returned quickly, materialized her codex, and tore out a page. “Here. For a job well done.”

I took the page, placed it in my codex, and flipped it so I could view my total finances. My total coins now stood at 98,000.

“Now that that’s settled, I have a request,” chimed Tannin.

I looked up. “I’m not a formal Guild member, so I can’t take requests.”

“Consider it a personal job from me. I’ll pay you.”

“…what’s the job?”

“You saw my conversation with those kids a while ago?” asked Tannin.

“They’re older than me, but yeah.”

“They’re older, but you’re more mature. Feel free to call them kids. Call them brats,” huffed Tannin. “They sure act like ones.” She shook her head. “I want you to join their party. Temporarily.”

“Won’t I have to join the Guild to do that?”

“Normally, yes,” agreed Tannin. “But this’ll come from my own funds.”

“Why do you want me to do this, though? They seemed dicky.”

Tannin frowned. She gestured for me to move across the bar to a more secluded part, and I did. “What do you think is the hardest part about this job?”

“Haggling with children.”

“Ha!” Tannin’s weary expression broke for a second. “No, it’s watching young, bright kids come here and never return.”

My expression immediately darkened. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s the job. It provides more good than downsides,” said Tannin. “There are risks. Every job has risks. If I can, though, I want to limit them.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “You can.”

I froze. “How?”

“You’re strong. You have white eyes. We know what you are,” said Tannin as she gestured at Bruno. “You’ve proven yourself to care for people and this community. I trust you. Don’t you want to do more?”

A few years ago, I revealed to Bruno and Tannin that I was an archdevil. It was a decision I pined over for months prior, but it had to happen.

For one, they were my only contacts in the Guild. The Guild itself was considered a “multi-cultural bastion” where devils and humans were not discriminated against, in principle, by the organization at large. After all, it operated in every country, so such a policy would hurt their business model.

Two, I needed a way of profiting from my abilities and gaining a route to take once I was older. There was no way I could join the military, nor did I have the desire to return to Paradise and live in a land I’d never known. I didn’t want to do any artistic, infrastructure, or business work. The Guild was my only option, and Bruno and Tannin were the gatekeepers to my future prosperity.

Admittedly, they were terrified of me at first. They reacted how I expected the Trailblazers to react by leaping away from me and screaming. I ended up having to cry and beg in front of them, which I always intended to do in case things turned out that way. It did exactly what I thought it would: it humanized me. At that moment, though I couldn’t read their minds, Bruno and Tannin remembered how long I’d lived in the village, what I’d done, who I lived with, and the type of person I was. While still leery, they heard me out.

It took months to build their trust until we established a consistent repertoire. Now, Tannin was asking me for favors. It was amazing how things changed when people put in the effort. It made me hopeful for the future.

“Of course I want to do more,” I said readily. “I don’t know if they’ll want me butting in, though. They don’t know me, and their party is all human. I’m a devil. They could hate me.”

“And that’s why I’m paying you,” said Tannin. “Those kids are going to die if someone doesn’t look out for them. Their leader, that boy with the black hair, Kardin—he’ll make it through and be a great adventurer someday. Of that, I have no doubt. His two friends will die before that, though, and I don’t think he realizes that.”

“Yeah, I saw the condition they were in,” I remembered. “That’s common?”

“They’ve only been here a few weeks. Kardin’s strong. I haven’t seen him get injured once. The other two, Gabby and Lars, have returned from each contract worse than the last one.” Tannin’s expression filled with pain. “I’ve seen the cycle before. One day, they won’t walk through those doors again if this keeps up.”

I contemplated the matter.

Sensing my hesitation, Tannin spoke once more. “Do this, and it’ll help build up your reputation in the Guild.”

“Even though I’m not a member,” I muttered.

“Exactly. Your name and…status…won’t be on the Guild register, but you’ll reap the benefits. Think of it as being a Guild employee rather than just a member.” Tannin placed her hand on her hip. “Do this for me now and in the future, and it’ll attract the attention you need moving forward.”

“Meaning?”

“We may be a backwater town, no offense, but we’re a training ground for the next generation,” said Tannin. “Important people pay attention to us.”

“Ah.” I hesitated for a single moment. “Let’s do it, then.”

“Wonderful!” Tannin clapped her hands together by her face and smiled. “Come back tomorrow afternoon. They’re sleeping here, but they’ll look for work then. Intercept them and go on quests with them until they’ve gotten stronger or break up as a group. Either outcome is fine as long as they don’t die.”

I scratched my head. “Guess I need to go tell my parents I have a job now.”

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The next day, I sat at a table by myself, waiting for Kardin and his party. It was way past lunchtime, and I’d been sitting there for hours for them to show up, as Tannin said they would.

“Liar,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair with my feet on a table. I tossed a dagger in the air. It flipped and then fell at me blade-first. I caught it easily between my fingers and repeated the process repeatedly to cure my boredom.

“Cut it out!” Tannin yelled from across the inn.

“Sorry, sorry,” I chimed, catching the blade one final time and depositing it in my codex.

“Ease up on the girl,” said a human male at a table near mine. “It was damn impressive for a kid.”

“Ahhh, the ego boost I needed!” I said sarcastically, earning a wry chuckle from the guy.

The inn was lively. The scent of cooking meat wafted through my nose. Clinking mugs and chatter ran through the air. Tables discussed recent exploits, from small hunts of Feral Tier monsters to incursions with packs of Savage Tier ones. The atmosphere was welcoming and chaotic, though very freeing in its own way because of it. There was no place like it in Sandy Branch.

The doors to the inn opened. My gaze lazily shifted in that direction until I finally spotted my targets: Kardin and his party. I sat up straighter and examined them as they made a slow beeline to the Inn’s job board.

Kardin had a lanky build and a very fair face, almost feminine, though he had a very rigid personality from what I gathered when I looked into his eyes. They were green, and there wasn’t a hint of happiness in them. Large bags sat underneath them. He was young, maybe three years older than me, but had the demeanor of a dispassionate adult. The long black hair on his head only made me look into his eyes more since the dark strand shrouded the rest of his face. His body was clad in simple clothes with light armor over the top.

The other guy with him, Tannin called him Lars, was a head taller and much bulkier, though not in a fit way. It was clear he liked to eat, but he seemed strong regardless. His clothes were filled out, and he had a scary demeanor. Or that’s what I would have said if he didn’t have such a kind, lazy face with brown eyes. He had cropped brown hair. His armor was similar to Kardin’s, but he also had a cape and hood covering his shoulders.

The lone girl in their group, Gabby, wore robes and a hat, signifying she was mainly an Externalist. Like Lars, she had brown eyes. Soft blond hair fell from her head and was braided intricately down her back. She looked timid and delicate. Reflecting on the prior day, she was also the only one apologetic about the team’s behavior.

Kardin had green eyes, Lars and Gabby had brown. While Kardin exuded cold confidence, I didn’t get the same vibe from the other two. They seemed weak and scared, not to mention bruised and wrapped in bandages. While Kardin stepped forward firmly with confidence, they always remained behind him like a delayed paste, uncertain of themselves but still willing to “follow the leader.”

I slapped my cheeks. “Okay,” I muttered. “Confidence. You can do this.”

I crossed the room and intercepted the trio before they got to the board. Kardin instantly looked at me like I was a bug.

“Hiya!” I smiled, leaned forward, and offered the cutest, most defenseless pose I could muster. “You three are new to the area, right? Haven’t seen you all before.”

Kardin looked around. “Hey, who lost their slave?” he asked while pointing at me.

I stopped very short of kicking him the balls. Instead, I mustered up my words to correct him, though my voice squeaked as I did. “I’m not a slave. I’m associated with the inn.”

“You’re like five years old,” uttered Kardin, astonished.

“Fourteen,” I corrected, my nerves firing. One more word, and it wouldn’t be the monsters that killed him. “Listen, if you need work, I—”

“Not interested.” Kardin passed me without a second glance.

Murder is wrong. I reminded myself. Bad thoughts shouldn’t be acted upon. That’s why they’re bad thoughts. Ignorance is an opportunity to change someone’s mind, not to kill them. Be kind, Yen. Be. Kind.

Even so, I felt a vein pulse in my forehead.

“Sorry,” said Gabby as she walked by behind Kardin. Lars didn’t say a word, but he did glance my way for a second.

I wheeled around until I was in front of Kardin again. Obviously, the kind and happy personality wasn’t going to work. Easing my way in was a waste of time. Kardin clearly didn’t see devils as equal. That was great. It meant I had to put in some legwork right from the get-go.

“I saw you got bitched out yesterday,” I told him. My tone was much more level and way less friendly. “You’ll be stuck pulling up weeds and hunting rabbits if you’re lucky. I guess you could move towns, but that’d be a waste of time, wouldn’t it? You’re already here. This part of the forest is a little stronger than the others. It’s a good mix of beginners with many convenient shops and opportunities, especially now during the hot season. It’s a great place to learn, the food’s cheap, and—”

“Is the bitch ever going to stop barking?” complained Kardin loudly to interrupt me. Still, his eyes were more tense than before. My words were affecting him.

“You’re the only bitch I see,” I retorted with the cheeriest smile I could muster. My expression turned cold, not that the trio could see it with my blindfold on. “I’m a local. I’m strong. I need people my age to team up with so I can earn more coins,” I lied. “Form a party with me on some gigs, temporarily, and you’ll be able to circumvent whatever restrictions Tannin has on you.”

At that, Kardin paused. After a while, his body relaxed. “If you can do that, we can team up. What exactly are you good at?” He peered at my face, staring at my blindfold. “Do you wear that because you’re strong or disfigured?”

“Oh, we can talk about that some other time,” I said, turning my back to him.

“It’d better be a good job!” shouted Kardin.

I flipped him the bird.

Tannin watched me walk over to her. She had a smile of amusement plastered over her face. I didn’t like it one bit.

“They hate devils. Kardin does, at least,” I whined. “I need a good job to impress them.”

“They’re only a Level 3 party, and that’s because of Kardin, not the others,” replied Tannin. “There’s not much I can give them.”

“It’s not for them. It’s for me.”

“You’re not a member of the Guild.”

“Fine, fine.” I raised my hands in defeat. “I don’t really want to help them anymore anyway. It’s your call.”

Tannin frowned. She glanced at the Guild board and back to me. “What do you want?”

I peered at the available quests, grabbed one, and returned it to Tannin. “This one.”

“It’s a Level 5 request,” said Tannin. “They’re in Tier 1. It’s outside the Tier range acceptable for their party.”

“Which is perfect. One above where they’re at to put them in danger, but something I can easily take care of,” I explained quickly. “It’s just hunting down a single Velcavius. It’s a Blighted Tier monster one level above the Hecervus I brought in yesterday, so it’s not that bad, and it’s by itself. All we’ll be doing is cleaning up after someone else’s quest,” I argued. “I’ll be there. I’m a level 6. The monster’s injured, so it’s at my level or lower, even without support. Shouldn’t be a problem. I could do it by myself, and I’m very, very fast.”

Tannin didn’t look confident.

“Oh well.” I gave up again. “I tried.”

“Fine. Take it.” Tannin held tight to the contract when I tried to pull it back. “The reputation for completion will only go to Kardin’s team afterward. You were never involved.”

“Works for me.”

I snagged the contract and headed back to Kardin. “Here yah go.”

“Is that a Level 5 request?” Kardin stared at it in awe. He went to grab it from me, but I quickly pulled it away. “What gives?”

“If I gave it to you, you’d leave me behind,” I argued.

“Absolutely,” said Kardin without a hint of embarrassment.

“Good thing it’s all mine then.” I waved the contract in Kardin’s face. “With an attitude like that, I might not feel like splitting the coins evenly. Maybe you should give up a certain percentage to gain my trust?”

“I don’t need to do anything.”

“You are absolutely right.” I gestured at Tannin. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll do great without me. With your…charm and…lovely personality, you’ll get what you want, guaranteed.”

Kardin’s face burned bright red. He spun on his heel and exited the inn. “Meet us back here tomorrow morning, packed and ready to go.”

“Where are you going?” Lars called after him. “We’re staying here…”

Once again, Gabby apologized to me. She bowed. “Sorry!” She lifted her head. “Looking forward to working with you!” Her little figure pounded after Kardin, and Lars was not far behind her.

“This should be fun,” I mumbled.