"People weren't kidding when they said mercs never sleep," Nyx muttered as he stepped into the guild hall—and immediately realized he'd lowballed the chaos.
The place was buzzing. Two distinct zones split the space: one, a rowdy lounge where mercs drank, brawled, and shouted over card games. The other, an overworked admin corner, where flustered clerks battled stacks of parchment and louder egos.
"Yep... medieval fantasy trope checklist: guild hall? Check. Overworked clerk? Check. Dumbass arguing over coin? Triple check."
Right on cue:
"You! It took me four fcking* hours to kill that bastard, and you're giving me five gold coins?" roared a walking slab of meat, his battle axe practically vibrating from rage.
The young receptionist behind the counter looked like she'd rather be eaten by a goblin.
"S-sir, the corpse was too damaged to confirm its class. Even if it was a high-grade demon, the bounty only counts if there's proof—"
"If I can't get what I'm worth, I'll snatch it myself—"
"Excuse me, asshole. Sliding through."
Nyx slipped between them like he owned the place, resting an elbow on the counter like it was his bar. He glanced sideways at the clerk.
"This where I register?"
The meat-wall didn't take it kindly. He grinned, all cracked teeth and testosterone.
"Well, lookie here. Pretty face, skinny arms. You tryna sell yourself, kid?" His hand clamped down on Nyx's shoulder.
Nyx turned, locked eyes, and didn't bother hiding the disgust.
"Your mother didn't teach you manners, or were you just born a bitch?"
He grabbed the man by the collar and yeeted him across the hall. The guy crashed near the entrance with a sickening thud, gurgling something between a moan and a plea.
Nyx dusted his shoulder.
"Tch. Got dirt on my clothes."
He turned back to the stunned clerk, pulled out a chair, and sat.
"This the place to register?"
"Y-y-yes, sir," she stammered, clearly still processing the body he'd just flung. She quickly brought upba paper and asked "W-what is your name, sir?"
"Nyx. Nyx Vaelthorn."
The moment the name left his mouth, the entire guild froze. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
Nyx raised an eyebrow looking around.
"What? Never seen someone this damn handsome?"
The silence held until a deep voice echoed from the staircase.
"I like this kid."
A towering man descended—mid-forties, built like war itself, face scarred like a battlefield.
"Mia," he said to the clerk, "Register him. Then send him upstairs."
---
After the registration, the girl led Nyx upstairs.
The hallway led to a long, almost empty chamber. A single wooden desk stood at its center, and behind it sat the same old man—muscles rigid, eyes sharp, face carved by battle and time.
Nyx came over and dropped into the seat across from him.
"So, what do you want with me, old man?" he asked, tone casual but curious.
The man didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned back and folded his arms.
"Nyx Vaelthorn… son of the fallen Lorn Vaelthorn," he said evenly. "May I ask your justification for joining the Mercenary Guild?"
Nyx raised an eyebrow. "Can't a guy be ambitious?" he shrugged. "I'm just trying to earn a few bucks before life kicks me into a ditch."
The old man studied him. There was something about his gaze—detached, but weighing Nyx like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
"A man can be ambitious," he finally said. "But what matters is the nature of that ambition."
"…If you think I don't qualify, fine." Nyx stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "Not like I'm begging for entry."
He turned to leave.
"Go on," the old man said, voice calm, unreadable. "Nobody in the Mercenary Guild cares who you are. Fulfill that ambition of yours."
Nyx paused for a heartbeat, then kept walking.
The door clicked shut behind him.
The old man stared at it in silence for a long while. Eventually, he exhaled—a long, weathered breath, like the weight of years finally caught up with him.
"…He's just like you, Rowan." he murmured to the empty room. "Always talking about ambition…"
A tired smile tugged at his lips.
"Ha…"
---
As Nyx left the Mercenary Guild, he slipped into the night like a shadow—silent, unseen, and a little more thoughtful than he wanted to admit.
The city's noise dulled behind him. By the time he reached his room, everything had quieted down… except his thoughts.
"Fulfill that ambition of yours…"
The old man's words echoed in his mind, looping like a damn curse.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on knees, staring blankly at the wall.
He didn't know why, but those words hit deeper than expected. Like the man wasn't just talking to him… but seeing through him.
"...Tch. I don't like complicated thoughts," Nyx muttered, shaking his head.
He tossed himself back onto the bed, arms flung wide, eyes staring at the ceiling for a moment longer.
Then he closed them.
Sleep took him fast—but the weight of that sentence lingered somewhere in the dark, just out of reach.
---
Nyx was eating with Karl and Rhea while casually chatting about what they should do next. Then, out of nowhere, he dropped a shock bomb on the two figures who were completely unaware of his sneaky actions.
"Oh, I joined the Mercenary Guild. I'm heading outside the walls to fight some demonic beasts… probably starting today?"
Silence swallowed the hall as spoons clattered onto plates. Both of them turned to look at Nyx, who was casually enjoying the hell out of his meal.
Nyx looked up and grinned at their stunned faces. "What? I can't just sit around all day and eat. I'm bored out of my mind in this house. And it's not like I'm as weak as before. Right, Karl?"
"It's true that you've become stronger, but young master… beyond those walls are dangers—dangers we can't even imagine," Karl said, worry clear in his voice.
"Y-Yes, young master. Please think this through—about your safety," Rhea added, her eyes filled with concern.
"I have thought it through. I'll just explore right outside the walls, so don't worry too much," Nyx replied, trying to reassure them.
After that, none of them spoke. Even though they knew Nyx had grown stronger, they couldn't hide the anxiety written all over their faces.
---
"Oh! Hi again, asshole."
As Nyx stepped into the guild building, he was immediately greeted by the same meat loaf from before. The moment he entered, all eyes turned to him. Everyone clearly remembered the chaos he caused the day before.
"Hello there. I want to know about the gold exchange tab for monster corpses," Nyx said as he walked up to the same girl who helped him register yesterday.
"Okay, here! You can get all the information from this," the young lady replied, handing him a small handbook.
Nyx took the handbook and made his way toward the city gates.
---
As he approached the gates, the towering walls—probably over twenty meters tall—came into full view. A defense measure unique to border towns like this one, where monster attacks were basically an everyday occurrence.
He reached the gate, where he was stopped by a guard. One of them stepped forward, eyeing Nyx with mild confusion.
"Where are you headed, boy? You can't leave the gates without permission," the soldier said in an indifferent tone, probably having seen way too many hot-headed adventurers trying the same.
"Here. Can I leave now?" Nyx replied, handing over his mercenary license.
"Hm... You can. But where's your party?" the guard questioned again.
"I don't have a party. I'm going alone," Nyx answered, his tone clearly irritated by the pointless questions.
The guard didn't say anything more and let him pass. As Nyx walked through the gates, he muttered under his breath.
"Another one going in brave… only to end up as a monster's next meal."
---
Once outside, Nyx entered the infamous Forest of the End. According to legend, this forest had no end—no one truly knew how vast it was. Just like this western jungle beyond the human territory, the world itself was shrouded in its own mysteries.
To the east lay the Forest of the Beginning, where the Elves resided. That forest was the root of life itself, connected deeply to nature and centered around the World Tree, which gave life to everything around it.
But to the west—here—it was the Forest of the End, a land where even life dared not step. Said to be the birthplace of demonic energy… or even a gateway to the Netherworld.
In the central region of the world, running north to south, three mighty empires reigned:
The Empire of Steel, ruled by the master-crafting Dwarves
The Empire of Beastkin, home of the meta-humans
And the Human Empire, fragmented into countless kingdoms
One of those kingdoms, sitting dangerously close to the Forest of the End, was Eleanor—the border kingdom.
---
As Nyx made his way deeper into the forest, he felt numerous presences lurking—but chose to ignore them.
Until one made itself known.
A wolf, its body wrapped in a dark mist, stood before him. One look and Nyx knew exactly what it was.
"Demonic beast."
His face twisted into a sly grin as he pulled his sword out from his inventory and unsheathed it.
Then, with zero hesitation, he leapt in front of the beast and muttered—
"Let the hunt begin."
P.S. I know it was a lot info dumping today, but what're you gonna do about it? Bear with it. Until then–
Stay healthy, Stay pure, just to get corrupted here~
–Clashercertified