The Adventurer’s Guild was as busy as ever, a constant hive of activity, with an endless hum of voices echoing off the grand stone walls that made up the towering structure.
Adventurers bustled in and out of the building.
So arrived with hopeful steps, eager for another day of questing and adventuring. Others returned to report their latest jobs—though their attitudes couldn’t be more different.
So were happy and relieved to have finished their quests, already thinking of the rewards—and the promise of a well-earned rest after days of grueling work. And others… well, they weren’t quite as composed, dragging themselves toward the counter with only one thing in mind—to get their report done and leave as quickly as possible.
Be that as it may, a crowd had already gathered around the massive quest board, eyes scanning the parchnt sheets pinned across its surface—searching for a potential (and hopefully profitable) job to take.
From simple monster subjugation to high-paying escort missions, the board offered a little sothing for everyone—if they were willing to risk their necks.
At the long wooden counter, a steady line of adventurers stretched toward the entrance. Behind it, rows of female receptionists worked tirelessly, processing both quest reports and quest acceptance while also managing and issuing new assignnts to the already packed quest board.
So adventurers leaned against the counter, flashing grins at the (slightly overworked) staff, while others just wanted to finish their business and be on their way.
In the hall, groups of adventurers also lounged across the guild’s lobby—trading stories, boasting about their latest feats, or simply... killing ti, since there was no rule against adventurers hanging out in the guild.
Unless, of course, they made too much noise before getting reprimanded by either the staff or other, more no-nonsense adventurers.
But today, one rumor seed to dominate the air.
"—I’m telling you, the kingdom’s making another push into the Garden of Hell," one adventurer shouted to his party mber, his voice carrying over the usual din of the hall.
"Yeah, right," another snorted, lazily leaning against one of the guild’s many lobby tables. "No one’s that stupid. That place is a death trap."
"Pfft, yeah, I agree," another chid in. "I bet it’s just a fancy way of getting rid of troubleso nobles."
"Still, if they are serious…" a fourth voice added, quieter and a touch uneasy, "I couldn’t imagine what life would be like in that kind of hellhole."
"Hahaha~, I hear ya! Like hell anyone wants to live in that place!"
And thus, laughter broke out, mixing with the already bustling hall, making it feel even rowdier.
Though despite the laughter and noise, a shadow of unease settled over the conversation.
The Garden of Hell—a place where even seasoned adventurers hesitated to tread. Whether it was a new frontier or a death sentence, no one could say for sure.
But upstairs, behind the heavy oak door of the guild master’s office… the matter was far from idle gossip.
The scent of parchnt and ink lingered in the air, a quiet, tranquil presence—a sharp contrast to the chaos outside.
"Guild Master, here’s the last report from the northern border of Florentia that you’ve requested."
A female guild staff mber handed another set of docunts to the already piling-up desk.
"Thank you."
And at her desk, the beautiful guild master sat in perfect composure, working through an almost endless line of paperwork.
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Behind her glasses, sharp eyes scanned the report in hand.
Despite her youthful appearance, there was an unmistakable weight in her gaze—one that ca from years of bearing the guild’s burdens.
The guild staff mber nervously shifted her stance, fidgeting to herself, waiting for a response from the guild master.
"…So, that’s the latest happening from the northern border," the staff mber finished, her voice steady despite the tension hanging between them.
The guild master remained silent for a beat longer, her fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood of her desk.
"Borealis," she murmured, almost to herself. "They’re more persistent than I gave them credit for…"
With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair—eyes narrowing as she contemplated the rising stirrings not just in Florentia… but also across every nation bordering the kingdom.
The guild master’s fingers tapped rhythmically against her desk, the sound soft yet sharp in the quiet office. Her mind, however, was anything but calm.
A scandal within the Crown… If the rumors were true, the royal court would soon be thrown into turmoil. And while the Adventurer’s Guild was ant to stay neutral, there was no avoiding the ripples such chaos would bring.
She sighed quietly. "As if that wasn’t enough…"
Across Florentia, monster sightings had increased—far beyond the usual levels for this ti of year. Isolated villages were reporting strange, aggressive creatures appearing near their borders. If it kept up, even major cities wouldn’t remain safe.
Her brows furrowed, frustration flickering beneath her composed exterior.
And then, there was her.
"Anastasia…" the guild master murmured, her tone unreadable.
A fallen noble turned frontier lord—an upstart with no experience… and yet tasked with the most cruel duty of trying to govern a godforsaken land…
’...But for how long…?’
Sebas, the only man she could trust to observe that cursed land and guarding this young fallen noble, had gone silent… until recently. She had been waiting for news from him, but there had been none for two weeks straight.
She had persistently requested that he provide a report every week… but was that too much, even for him? She would have to send a ssage herself if that was the case.
However, a sudden knock on the door broke her thoughts…!
Without waiting for permission, a guild runner burst in, panting and holding a sealed letter.
"A ssage—from Sebastian!"
The guild master’s eyes sharpened instantly.
"Give it to ."
Breaking the seal with practiced ease, her gaze swept across the contents. And as she read, her serious expression slowly softened… before curving into a small, amused smile.
"...Honestly," she murmured, shaking her head slightly.
The two guild staff exchanged glances, confused by her sudden change in deanor.
"Guild Master…? Is there sothing the matter?" one of them asked cautiously.
"No, it’s nothing," she said, waving them off. "Go back to work—and find more information regarding the northern border while you’re at it."
"Understood, ma’am!" Both staff mbers gave a quick bow before hurrying out of the office, leaving her alone with the letter still in hand.
Once the door shut behind them, the guild master leaned back in her chair, exhaling a long, tired sigh—sowhere between relief… and frustration.
"After so long, this is what you give ? A headache? I already got tons of them, damnit," she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose before tossing the letter onto her desk.
Yet, despite her words, the faint smile lingered.
A mont later, she reached for a fresh sheet of parchnt.
Dipping her pen in ink, she began to write—swift, precise strokes filling the page....
A formal request to establish... a branch adventurer guild in the Garden of Hell.
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