I stepped through the doors of the Guild, my boots ringing out on the stone lobby floor as I entered.

The air inside was stuffy and hot, the smell of sweaty bodies and stale books hanging in the air. The room was mostly empty, save for a handful of adventurers who were either sleeping, drinking, or playing cards. A few of them waved as I entered the room, and I waved back in kind. Business as usual.

My current place of interest, the commissions area, was at the very far back of the building, and its usual receptionist occupied the wooden seat behind the counter. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and her neatly pressed blouse and skirt gave her an air of professionalism and competence. I knew this to be quite a deceptive look for her, but I would never say that out loud, lest I earn a gentle punch to the arm.

As if she had sensed something were amiss, she briefly looked up from her work, her eyes widening as she noticed me approaching.

"Oh, Sun! Welcome back!"

She greeted me cheerily, her smile wide and welcoming. Given how unusual it was for this particular girl to wear her emotions on her sleeve, I waved meekly at her, not really knowing how to deal with her earnest response to my return. As I neared closer and she got a clearer look at me, however, her expression hardened.

I must look pretty bad.

"Hey Claire, I’m done with the worm request."

She raised an eyebrow at me, knowing I had deliberately avoided talking about my current physical condition.

"I can see that. You look terrible. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine! It looks a lot worse than it actually..."

I went silent for a moment, took a look down at my body, then decided to drop the act. I wasn't convincing anyone.

"Nah, it does feel pretty bad."

Now that I could see myself in better lighting, I could really absorb what I looked like after the fight.

The exterior of my leather armor was shredded up and half the thickness it used to be. The wraps around my hands hung loosely around my fingers, and I definitely reeked of rotting flesh. Whether it was mine or the worms', I didn't know.

"But I didn't lose!" I assured Claire, slipping the pack off my shoulder.

"...and here’s the proof!"

In one swift motion, I unpacked the spoils of my hunt, unintentionally spilling gross worm juice everywhere. The girl was not thrilled, visibly recoiling from the newly-presented trophies, trying desperately to retain a professional composure.

With a profound lack of grace, she poked at one of the heads with a quill, confirming it was dead before pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Gross."

She paused briefly before speaking next.

"But... good job coming back safe and sound."

Wordlessly opening up her own pack, she raked the worm heads across the laminated wood with her arms, pulling them into the bag lying in wait at the edge of the counter. A poof, a flash, and a wisp of fire exited the pack. The worm heads, now successfully incinerated, fulfilled their purpose as proof of quest completion.

Then, as she had hundreds of times before, tossed me a bag of coins. It was my reward for the quest, pre-counted like she knew for certain I would return.

Slipping the coins into my pocket, I lazily nodded my thanks to indicate a farewell.

"Thanks boss, see ya tomorrow."

I’d love to hang out with her today, as we usually did after hours, but I was dead tired. Maybe some other time.

I turned to leave with a nonchalant farewell, but apparently, Claire wasn’t done with me.

She grabbed at my arm to command my attention. I gave it to her at a moment’s notice, thoroughly surprised at her unusual aggression.

However, there was anything but aggression in those upturnt eyebrows. She almost looked sad.

"Honestly Sun, I was worried this time. You were out for a while, and I was starting to get a little scared for you. Those worms were reported to be at least three meters tall, and you fought all of them! All of them! Probably at the same time, knowing you."

"Yep. Same time."

Claire rolled her light brown eyes, clearly not amused.

"Don’t brush it off as an accomplishment, you dolt. You may be good at fighting, but that’s too close for comfort. I'm kinda pissed at you for even taking the job in the first place."

She bopped me on the head with the stack of rolled up papers, then paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. Finally, after a few seconds, she decided on something to say.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I won’t allow you to hunt without a party anymore. It’s getting worse out there, and monster sightings are popping up far more than they used to. The first signs of the Demon King’s awakening are beginning, and going solo won’t be feasible within a few months, even for veterans. I don’t want you to be one of the first examples of that."

She squeezed my arm and gave me a delicate smile.

"You’re my best friend. Can't have you dying out on me yet."

I shrugged, trying to mask my embarrassment.

It relieved me to know that at least someone was looking out for my well-being, though I never doubted that she had been. Despite Claire’s feisty attitude, I knew that she cared deeply about me, so I felt a little bad for making her worry. I told her my plans to party up, hoping to ease a bit of the concern.

"I was thinking the same thing, honestly", I admitted. "I’m due for a change of pace. I can’t be getting ragdolled too often."

As soon as I said this, I noticed a faint glimmer of relief in Claire's eyes, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture, regaining her usual confident demeanor.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Now get out of here."

In a flash, she released my arm and returned to sifting through her papers.

As always, nothing but the quickest turnaround times from her. It was a receptionist’s talent.

But I didn't miss her momentary glance up.

‘Never change, Claire,’ I thought to myself.

And like the good friend I was, I got out of there.

----------------------------------------

Trapped within the confines of battle, I struggled in a dense forest, surrounded by hordes of what were supposed to be my prey for the day.

As they approached me, I could feel their heat radiating off of their skin, making the air burn thick and oppressive. I tried to lift my arms to cut them down, but my limbs felt leaden and unresponsive. I stumbled and fell, and the hundreds of devilwyrms closed in on me like mice on grain.

As they tore into my flesh, I could hear their guttural snarls and hisses. Their hot, fetid breath assaulted my senses. The pain was unbearable, and my body convulsed with each bite. I could feel my heart racing, pounding in my chest like a drum, and my breaths came in ragged gasps. My nerves burst aflame, ravaging my body with an inferno of scorching agony.

Hah… ha… ha…

I tried to yell, but the thick underbrush and gnarled trees muffled my cries. Roots coiled over each other, barricading my retreat. The worms seemed to be everywhere, their long, slimy bodies writhing and coiling around me. I swung my fists and kicked my legs, trying to push them back, but it was like trying to fight a tidal wave. I clawed at their flesh with all my strength, the tips of my fingers rubbed raw and bloody.

The acidic venom burned through my skin and muscle, and I could feel my energy draining away. My movements became slower and more sluggish, and my thoughts became muddled and confused. I knew I was dying, and that thought filled me with an all-encompassing sense of despair.

‘I can’t die… ‘ I thought.

But I did. I did die.

I had passed on already, my mind failing to register when it had even happened. The weakness of flesh undermined my will. My body was no more, returning to the ash and dust from whence it came, taking all sensation of the world with it. The silence that followed grew louder and louder and louder, until it was the only thing left to hear.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the dream ended. I opened my eyes, my heart racing and my skin slick with sweat. I sat up in bed, trying to catch my breath, and looked around my room.

But nothing was there.

----------------------------------------

After what seemed like forever, it was finally morning. After that incredibly shitty night of sleep, I felt like an undead, and probably looked the part too.

At some point, I had laid back down in bed and just blanked out, letting my eyes burn holes into the wooden ceiling of my home.

"I just wanna lay in bed today…" I thought out loud.

Despite my urge to rot within the comfort of my bedsheets, I knew I couldn't afford to do that today. I dutifully threw on some new clothes, my old set of leather armor, and stumbled awkwardly towards the bathroom.

As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but wince. My hair was a mess, tufts of black curling up into the air like gravity had been reversed. My light green eyes were tainted in their bloodshot redness, and dark circles creased over my already lightly suntanned skin.

I looked like a raccoon fresh out of the rubbish. A raccoon with a hangover.

"You’re still handsome as hell though," I said, trying to gaslight myself.

I shot finger crossbows at the mirror.

Taming my hair and washing my face with a light [Aqua Spray] spell, I moved out for the day.

…

As I stepped outside, I took a breath of fresh air, feeling just an inkling more invigorated. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over everything its rays touched. I absorbed its warmth happily.

My little wooden house, with its quaint front porch, looked peaceful and inviting in the early morning light. The porch was made of rough, hewn wood that had aged over the years, its grain now slightly deteriorated and uneven. The roof was steeply pitched, with wooden shingles that were starting to curl and fade, but it still offered shelter from the rain and sun, so it was good enough for me. The wooden stairs creaked beneath my boots as I left my humble home for the day.

Making my way through the cobblestone streets, it didn't take long for me to notice that the morning was already busy.

As I walked, I passed by several groups of people dressed in vibrant costumes and monster masks, all chatting excitedly. There were children running around, their faces painted with glitter and bright yellow colors, carrying short wooden swords and swinging them at the adults with monster masks. Vendors were hawking their goods, targeting the children and their parents with trinkets and treats. My stomach growled at the sight and smell of unhealthy festival food.

"Some cinnabird wings would be so good right now," I mumbled to myself.

I bought some chick-on-a-stick in a moment of weakness. The wings were deboned and coated in a fine layer of cinnamon, four of them plunged vertically along a skewer. Just how I liked it.

I snacked on my little treat as I continued my walk through town.

It seemed as though I missed some sort of festival notice while I was out hunting yesterday. Either that or I forgot about an important holiday, which wasn't outside the realm of possibility for an infidel such as myself.

The days had been blurring together recently, and I wasn't much of a churchgoer, so I wasn’t sure.

Whatever the case may have been, I just wasn't feeling the excitement like everyone else was, so I couldn't help but feel a little left out. Maybe if I had a bit more context, I'd be more into it.

On the spot, I decided to go see Claire. She'd know what was going on.

So I made my way back to the Guild.