In the Adventurers' Guild, Central
The guild was busier than usual. Rumours about the Karken were spreading like wildfire, and Shasa could feel the tension simmering in the air like a pot ready to boil over.
"Shasa! We got news from the investigators—Val Kruchki's hunting team, eight members, and Ian Vector's guild, all twenty of them… wiped out!" Nali, one of the newer receptionists, blurted out louder than she should've.
The guild hall fell silent. Every conversation came to an abrupt halt.
"Hey! Did I hear that right?" one of the adventurers said, standing from his seat.
Shasa took a breath and forced a calm expression. "Don't worry, everyone. We'll put up a bounty report as soon as we have more details."
"I'll go post it now," Nali offered, but before she could walk away, Shasa grabbed her arm gently.
"Any word on Erik?"
Nali shook her head. "Nothing yet."
Shasa watched her walk off, her heart sinking.
I hope he's okay.
To Shasa, Erik and Eskil were more than friends—they were family. After her parents died, Eskil had taken her in without hesitation. She still remembered the day he found her, wandering the market square with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Eskil had taught her how to survive—how to read, write, and speak with confidence. He even sent her to the community school, where the teachers came from the royal grounds. At the time, Shasa hadn't realized just how expensive that was, but once she'd started working at the guild, the numbers started to make sense.
It had been years ago, but she remembered it clearly—how everything changed one rainy night.
She'd just gotten home from class, Eskil was due to return from a trip to Velhein. She was at his workshop, sitting by the window, when she heard the door open below. She ran to greet him, ready for a warm hug—and then stopped.
Behind Eskil stood a boy. Blue marble eyes, black hair, slightly younger than her.
"Shasa, come here. I want you to meet Erik," Eskil said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
That was the first time she'd met him. He barely said a word, rarely smiled, and seemed more interested in weapons than anything else. But over time, he'd grown on her. Night after night, she taught him to read and write. He struggled with letters at first but quickly picked up reading—and even quicker, how to fight.
Shasa never understood why someone so young was so obsessed with combat. Eskil had once told her Erik came from a warrior family, and that it was his father's dying wish for him to become an adventurer. She didn't believe it, not really, but she didn't press.
Erik had started hunting by the time he was fourteen. He moved like a natural. He used swords and daggers as though they were extensions of his own limbs. Everyone at the guild praised him—said he was gifted.
But Shasa knew better, She'd seen the nightmares
The nights Erik woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for air, his eyes wide with something he never talked about. But he didn't need to. In those moments, Shasa just sat beside him, silent, steady. He never said thank you, but she never needed him to.
People in town often called her beautiful—her blond hair, her quiet confidence—but beauty didn't make her feel safe. There were always creeps lurking around the streets. What kept them away wasn't her charm—it was Erik.
Everyone knew she was close to him, that they were like siblings. That was enough. A few years ago, some thug tried to strip her in an alley. Erik found out. The next day, that man had both his hands cut off. No one questioned who did it.
They'd grown apart over the years—work, bounties, obligations. Shasa with her responsibilities at the guild, Eskil with more and more noble commissions, and Erik… out there, fighting monsters.
She didn't realize she'd drifted into memory until Nali came running again.
"Shasa! The White Cavalry—they're on their way to Hoza Village!"
Too loud again. The hall went silent once more.
Shasa's heart dropped. "W-What?!"
---
White Calvary Guild – Main Office, Royal Grounds
"A monster that wiped out twenty-eight people in a single day—two silver-ranked teams, no less. This is a first, isn't it?" said Guild Master Ivan Vinsmoke, leaning back in his chair with a glint in his eye.
Aron Heather stood at attention, listening as the Guild Master continued.
"Well, this is good for us. The perfect chance to make a move. Aron, go kill that thing and make us proud."
"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave," Aron replied, already turning toward the exit.
He barely made it three steps before the Guild Master spoke again.
"Oh, by the way—" Ivan's voice was casual, but Aron heard the sharpness beneath it. "I heard Erik is also after that Karken."
"I'm aware," Aron said, his jaw tightening. His voice was calm, but inside, the mention of Erik twisted something unpleasant in his gut.
"Don't let this turn out like last time," the Guild Master said. "That failure's been on your record too long. Since then, you've gone from Vanguard Leader to Guild Leader. Soon enough you'll be promoted as a Commander. Prove you've grown. Prove you're better than him."
Aron didn't flinch at the words, but they echoed in his head. He gave a firm nod, hiding the bitterness in his chest.
"Yes, sir."
He exited the room without another word.
Outside, the White Calvary was already assembled—fifty elite adventurers in polished armor, mounted and ready. Aron walked through them, straight-backed and silent, until he reached the front and mounted his horse.
As he adjusted his grip on the reins, a pigeon descended and landed on his shoulder. No ordinary bird—this one was the spiritual projection of one of his informants.
"Sir, we've located Erik's position," it said in a hollow voice before vanishing in a puff of white mist.
Aron put on his helmet.
This time… he thought, "this time I'll be the one standing over the kill."
He raised his sword toward the sky.
"White Calvary! March!"