Chapter 70: Not the Same Isaac
Karlune's Rest hadn't changed much in a week.
But Isaac had.
When he and Lira passed through the outer gates, most didn't recognize them at first. After all, people remembered the cloaked, half-burned mercenary with sunken eyes—not the tall, poised figure striding through the street with windswept black hair, gleaming obsidian eyes, and the quiet confidence of someone who'd fought monsters, broken crystals, and maybe even fate itself.
"Why are they staring?" Isaac murmured under his breath.
"You mean why are they swooning?" Lira replied with a straight face, though her lip twitched at the corners.
Isaac glanced left. Two fruit vendors had paused mid-haggle, blinking like they'd just seen a marble statue come to life. On the right, a young courier tripped over a basket, dropping letters in every direction while staring at him.
"I… didn't change that much," Isaac muttered.
"Charisma: 487," Lira deadpanned.
"…Right."
They arrived at the Adventurer's Guild around midday. The hall was busy as always, full of voices and clinking armor, but the moment they stepped through the doorway, a hush rippled outward. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. A man near the bounty board dropped his parchment entirely.
And at the front desk, a young female receptionist jolted upright, eyes locking onto Isaac with breathless awe.
"Welcome to—oh! Hello!" she beamed. "Are you from one of the capital chapters? That aura… you look incredible. Are you here to register? Rank assessment? Special commission?"
She tucked a lock of hair behind one ear, smiling too hard, clearly trying not to look too impressed.
Isaac blinked. "It's me. Isaac."
The receptionist stared blankly.
"…I'm sorry?"
"I've been here before. System crystal exploded. Bit of a mess. Gloomy guy, boots were half on fire."
Realization hit like a thunderclap.
"You're that Isaac?!"
He nodded.
"Oh my gods," she gasped, shrinking a little behind the desk. "I might've… uh… called you 'statistically cursed' in the registry. And 'potentially unstable.' And maybe wrote 'possibly feral' in a side note."
"Sounds fair," Isaac said dryly.
"No, I mean—I almost flirted—"
Isaac raised a hand. "It's fine."
"Can I still flirt?"
"No."
Lira coughed so hard she doubled over behind him.
Isaac glanced at her sideways, then back at the receptionist. "I'll… go check the mission ledger."
He slipped away, disappearing through the side hall.
The receptionist slumped behind the desk, cringing into her sleeves. "I am never recovering from this."
"You actually improved his day," Lira said between giggles.
"Did you see him?!" the girl hissed. "He looks like he walked out of a divine weapon catalogue!"
"That's… honestly not far off."
Meanwhile, Isaac found a quiet corner by the mission board, hoping for peace and a few D-rank monster culling quests.
Instead, he found a small crowd already watching him.
Three guild members whispered nearby. One pointed and said, "I heard he solo'd a bone wyrm." Another: "He's a reincarnated saint. Has to be."
A fourth leaned in. "No, no, no. He's clearly a forgotten prince raised by ghosts in the cursed north."
Isaac groaned internally.
He took one job listing at random just to look busy.
Escort Mission: Investigate ruins south of Moorthal Marsh. Sightings of pale flame and disappearing scouts.
Lira appeared beside him, peering at the posting.
"More Spiral Cult activity?"
"Probably."
"Want to check it out?"
Isaac paused.
Then he smirked.
"At this point? Might as well. I'm already the town myth."
Lira grinned. "Then let's give them a new story."