The Guild was incredible.

It was completely furnished and every corner had been cleaned, soaked, and renovated recently.

The smell of hot paper unknowingly wafted around as its various sections prostrated their excellism.

That and a heavy, thick smell of perfume that far out shadowed it...

There was a tavern section, lit bright yellow and covered with splendid-oak tables and cheery rum rammers.

There was the quest section, full of confident and experienced adventurers, checking their options.

And then there was the guild section.

Split by a certain group.

And blocked by a certain man.

This certain man wore a badge on his right. It was flawlessly red and hadn't aged a day since the day it had been printed.

It was considered uncommon and rude to wear one's badge blatantly.

Yet this man had worn his in the open for years.

And on it, only flaunted his status, power, and right to be considered uncommon.

Adam Stitchler

-S- Rank Swordsman

'Red Dragon.'

The man stood with his rose-red clothes flared out. His golden patterns were embroidered by only the finest artists of the capital, and his sword lay humbly in his sheath, splendidly sharpened.

His skin was of a collected and natural olive that was often seen on experienced adventurers.

He had no allies, yet he clearly needed none. His hood covered the good parts of his face and its odd points and curves made him seem even stranger somehow.

The first look at this man would show a righteous hero, an experienced adventurer.

The second?

Well, that tale would tell for itself.

The eyes of the leader squinted irritably as his face irked and his displeasure at the appearance of this man was worn flat across his face.

"Zip it wrinkles."

His voice was curved and slanted in tone as he found his feet awkwardly prancing around subtly.

Eyeing the hooded man carefully he attempted to take a lunge forward and carry on with his task yet he found a firm grip locking onto his left shoulder. He scoffed at the fancy and prestigious golden pattern markings on the red-cloth glove that had tired and become worn out over the years.

The grip was light but in the perfect situation to break something badly. The grip had such steady and refined control that one couldn't dare underestimate the things that this man could do in half a second.

Of course, no one would dare attack him, one of the key members of the DustCrack clan that ruled this area of the Crow Kingdom.

But if he knew the man before him?

His eyes squinted at this action whilst his troops stood behind him filled with uncertainty and seeping animosity.

"That's Red Dragon to you."

The man's voice portrayed his maturity and calmness as he subtly crept his hand closer and closer to the troop leader's bone joints.

The troop leader cursed under his tongue.

One particularly rowdy member of the troop, possessing a failed attempt at a mohawk that questionably bent forwards and a constitution that was lopsided and right-heavy swung his lanky legs around as he swayed his arms towards the hooded man.

His voice was squeaky, squash and definitely public as his veiny eyes bulged intensely.

"Shut it, you're just a guy who got lucky."

A gap formed in the troop as he slowly got closer to the hooded man whilst brutishly calling out flaws and insults to the warrior before him.

"Acting all cocky and this and that. You couldn't even beat a goblin."

The red-hooded man stood perfectly still, his face still hidden by the golden patterns covering his front as the yob got closer and closer, spouting more and more.

"Hey? Isn't that why you couldn't save that girl?"

A whole new layer of silence coated the room.

All in the room had heard of the 'incident.'

When the young and prideful Red Dragon who was 1 mission away from ascending to the esteemed -S- Rank ended up with a casualty on an -A-Rank mission which ended up permanently staining his flawless record.

It had killed off his adventurer's spirit.

That event was why he merely sat around the guild's tavern for days on end, being spiteful and wise whilst doing an occasional C-rank subjugation quest for his keeping.

Well. That was a tale of the past.

The adventurers in the guild steadily retreated as this conflict continued brewing dangerously fast.

Although the Red Dragon acted mature and experienced when his mask was peeled off?

He became a real Red Dragon.

Feisty, uncontrollable, and capable of crushing a man's heart in two before they could even wince a finger.

No one really knew if his sword was even his primary weapon anymore.

In his prime, it had been his partner and soul, yet now he had only been spotted kicking, and punching his enemies with a look of tire and weariness.

"What's wrong Red Dragon, ran out of flames?"

Confident in his safety with his executive by his side, the young and hot-headed youth began pushing his limits, even closing the distance to around 3 meters.

His back bent forwards unevenly as his face was just out of punching range.

The look on his face became sickly serene as he made sure to keep just out of range.

"And stay silent. All this and that before you get pulled back out from your little fantasy dragon world."

I hadn't noticed too much whilst eagerly listening to this enticing interaction but...

Something was happening.

Everything was shaking, vibrating seething.

Yet everything looked perfectly still.

The Red-Dragon guy was perfectly still.

So he wasn't the cause of this nature-freak event.

What was going on?

I then realized.

Some things can't be seen at first glance.

The air wasn't vibrating.

Neither were the people or the objects in the room.

It was something else.

Something far more unexpected that was vibrating so fearfully and being manipulated to such a specific extent.

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It was the world energy.

This guy, his talent in World-Energy was next level.

To manipulate it with just emotions? Well.

It's not like he could learn it now anyways. As with Ken, he was far past the golden age.

But this didn't sit right with me.

With this level of world-energy manipulation.

Just what was happening in that man's head right now?

He was definitely near if not far exceeding his breaking point.

But he couldn't do anything here.

Right?

It wouldn't be self-defense since the failed mohawk trooper had been keeping an apprehensive distance.

The mohawk trooper waited for a small pause before confidently going on to his next point, his voice now sly and sneaky.

"Let's go. This guy isn't the hot stuff he boils himself up to be. Just a little, childish paddy-packing lose-."

"Don't care anymore."

Words blew through the tiny gaps in the Red Dragon's pearl-white teeth as his face revealed a nasty snark. I felt a corporeal seeth seeping through the thin hood of the red dragon.

The words were so fast and silent that I think only I, due to my heightened senses had heard them.

Well. Maybe Vigar to-.

Boom.

The mucky perfume-muddled air suddenly blasted to the right.

The Red Dragon still stood in the exact same position, his clothes remained still and of a high, well-preserved quality.

The hair of every person in the room ended up flying wildly as clothes flapped and wood snapped.

It took another few seconds for the people to go through the shock of realization and realize that the mohawk-man had disappeared.

The sight had gone so fast that all I had seen was a before and after image.

Who was this guy?

I seemed to be the only one thinking such a thing.

The rest of the people in the guild had already taken several steps backward and had been fretful from the start it would seem.

The unbearable silence was soon broken by a seemingly held-back squeal from one of the guild waitresses.

"Umm."

Red Dragon turned his back to the fearful troopers before harshly yapping at the waitress before chucking a bag of golden coins out.

"I'll pay for it."

His broad shoulders shuddered from side to side as the back of coins hit the floor and spilled, allowing all in the room to see the vast contents.

The sea of gold was swept up slowly and sheepishly as the shaky atmosphere of the room slowly broke down.

The Dust-Crack clan might've tried to snag a few if not for the devastating state of the mohawk-man.

"Oh, That's not-."

My voice trailed off as I kept my eyes off quite the gruesome picture.

If I had to describe it?

Imagine if someone slapped a nice chorizo slice(bare flesh) on the left of someone's face, broke their spine, and then bent their legs unnaturally.

And to top it off they seemed to be bleeding by the head.

The Red Dragon sure had a temper. As he sat by the corner of the tavern section sipping on a bubbling beer he pulled his hood down in shame of his behavior. A hot and sandy red pallor had settled on his skin.

A neutral tone seemed out of place in the tense atmosphere that only got heavier.

"Confused?"

I didn't look back. For I knew who that flat voice had come from already. The Phantom who had gotten me stuck in this situation in the first place.

"I suppose so."

I kept my answer modest, I wasn't exactly in the mood for this phantom.

The invisible mass supporting my arm pricked my left arm.

I felt an addicting lushy surge squelch in my veins as my head felt like a bowling ball.

"Agh."

I massaged my head, yet I had already fallen into a deafening stupor.

The scene was refolded.

Just a hundred times slower.

My eyes seared with pain for they could not blink or close at all on that matter, no matter how hard I tried, all that surfaced was a blunt pain on my eyelids.

But it was a price that rewarded my curiosity well.

After the discreet words cursed from Red Dragon's mouth, his body moved so smoothly and swiftly that it seemed unreal.

He spun like a dancer to the side of the trooper before knocking his head in with a regular right punch. His feet never stuck to one spot but spun off gracefully.

Most of the punch had missed its mark.

Yet it had still done that much damage?

Soundly, the Red Dragon spun back to his starting position.

It take the world a second to catch up to his actions as the blast ensued.

"Haa."

I let out a breath from stress and the lack of air in my body.

Fortunately, Vigar had held me up and stopped me from making a scene whilst I was in that world.

I gazed subtly at the Red Dragon as my body itched with indescribable emotions.

No one noticed my inhumane tilt as I picked myself back up using my feet as support.

My silken white hair had settled now yet it seemed more vibrant and alive.

As if some sort of energy had been infused within it.

I brushed off the feelings before I noticed the agitated members of the DustCrack clan beginning to walk back.

I noticed now oddly.

I was free. extremely temporarily on that matter, but free.

Ah.

So I could either go to the Red Dragon.

Or back to the Dust-Crack clan essentially.

Yikes.

I scratched the back of my head with a squeaming smile as I admired my options.

I guess I was... what was the saying? Stuck between a rock and a hard place?

Pondering and feeling strange, I looked to my sides and realized the others were thinking the exact same as me.

The grey-haired girl was blatantly leaning towards the Red Dragon whilst the others were tilting from side to side.

As much as I would like to idolize this Red-Dragon guy.

I don't know but he seemed quite... unstable?

Strong sure, but instability was a major flaw in any man and probably more dangerous than any Dust-Crack Clan.

I needed 400,000 Judes.

Not an unstable maniac.

Steadily, I looked down at my left arm.

It was stable, but far from safe and usable.

Even using world energy pained me since it was crippling my left arm.

In other words, right now, it was probably just Vigar unless I wanted to cripple myself permanently.

Did I ever mention the fact that I had not seen a single healer during my observations?

Neither had I heard of a healer, a branch of holy magic, having the audacity to enter the kingdom known for straying from light prominently.

Although it was just a few steps in one direction.

I had an unshakable feeling that whichever side I picked now, would be the side I would stay on forever.

Drawing me out from my line of thought, a warm feeling fuzzled on my exposed back.

"Oh, sorry."

A voice that possessed a sort of scanty and outsider feel emitted from behind me.

It was the girl with grey-white hair.

I realized how bad my attire was and shook my head acceptably.

It felt like my behinds had become a steel armament as my back tensed and straightened and my right hand tried its best to hide the awkward view.

I noticed mundane and darting eyes staring and used my newest trump card.

"Vigar."

"Become my shirt." This pesky phantom owed a little more than just a favor. Had it not been for recent events I could've been in some deep trouble.

If I wasn't already in such deep and concerning trouble, of course.

My words were rushed and stressed hard as I felt my emotions choke the air around me.

"...Fine."

Soon, a white substance filled and solidified over my back, it was senseless to the touch and felt hypnotic when I whirled my finger around it.

How come I hadn't thought of this earlier?

I felt a hand swipe the air to my right.

Step.

My figure stood dazed, a step away from the stumpy trooper.

His expression was disfigured as he looked at me outraged.

"Get-back... HERE!"

His temperament alerted all those nearby.

Every step he took and every arm he swung, caused me to backstep more and more till we were near the end of the cavern section of the guild.

Near the Red Dragon on that matter.

I rose my eyebrows in a matterly way of asking 'you really want to mess with that guy?'

The stumped trooper looked back, his face mixed and entwined with a series of unfortunate irks and expressions.

Getting some sort of sign from his boss, his eyebrows furrowed grotesquely slowly.

"Take your time, you'll be in bars by dusk anyways. They always are."

His right arm mocked me with odd signs.

I'm sure I would be feeling extremely hurt had I not been quite the tourist.

Nodding casually I watched both satisfied and worried as his figure retreated.

The grey-haired girl crawled over a fence to our left as I awkwardly stood in front of the Red Dragon's table and the grey-haired girl looked around sheepishly and concerned.

I cursed subtly as I saw the Dust-Crack clan waiting right outside through silhouettes of a gleaming-yellow orange-hued cross-patterned window.

With no signs of leaving apparent.

So what now?

Did I have to befriend this unstable head-cracker?

I felt several weights sink into my stomach, inciting me to sit down calmly.

What do I say?

The grey-haired girl followed my tracks and the 3 of us sat silently as our eyes darted, fingers twigged and bodies remained tensely still.

The still that didn't exactly feel still due to the streams of sweat smearing my skin.

"I hope those curses weren't aimed at me."

The mature and experienced -S- Rank Adventurer had returned

Curses?

Ah.

This man's hearing was truly on another level.

Even a subtle curse could not escape his twitching ears.

"Of course not, I just find myself in quite the pickle. Aha."

I let out an exasperated laugh which faded softly before being a distant memory at our odd table.

I looked around meekly before the silence was barged upon by the Red Dragon.

His entrance was so subtle that I could only recognize speech in the second half of his sentence.

"Not usually like this."

"Well."

He let out a pathetic chortle.

"I guess I am but... well I'm working on it."

His face was head-down on the wooden table. Only his hood could be soon and its various artistic patterns.

He sighed, so loud that I could feel the hot sensation of rum embroided in the air settling around our table.

"That was the last of my wealth too."

He looked reminiscent of his bag of gold coins.

He had in all honesty, far overpaid the guild. Yet it was a price he was glad to overpay.

His silly rank was all he had now.

"I hope you may get better soon."

The grey-haired girl gave her condolences as I felt an odd lump form in my throat.

Wow.

This was quite the... atmosphere? I suppose?

It was quite strange, looking at only the bottom half of the Red Dragon's face.

It was shaven well and superbly smooth.

It wasn't the skin of a 20-year-old.

More like a 30-something-year-old I suppose.

Quietly, I peeped up my own suggestion.

It's not like anyone else would be talking anyways.

"If you don't mind, I was actually planning to do some quests and get some cash- judes. I kind of needed a person."

I looked at the pitiable grey-haired girl.

"Or... two?"

She understood the intent and smiled weakly whilst giving me a content look.

The Red Dragon looked at me curiously from under his mask.

Well, if he had eyes then he should've.

"With... me? The worst guy to team up with in this whole Guild?"

His voice was coarse and rotted.

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah. With you."

I left out the rest of his description for good measure whilst innocently tousling my hair.

He reached his hands out deeply and sweatily into his pockets.

After raising them, 3 notes came out.

"900 Judes..." He muttered as his expression drooped.

"I just hope you don't mind me too much."

I rubbed my hands inside my head.

Mind a free -S- rank? I think not!

"Well, let's get started."

I stood up like a pouncing cat.

And I readied my mind, body, and phantom.

It was time to get 400,000 Judes.

Or in some basic other words, it was time...

To do some quests.

It couldn't possibly be that hard right?

A quest or two never hurt anybody.

Especially with an -S- Rank by their side.

Sure, he may have an issue or two.

But don't we all?

While barely hanging on to my decision I strolled to the quest board with newfound companions with newfound confidence.

"200... Judes?"

For a good 3 seconds, that was.

Possibly the only thing worse than catching glimpses at the feisty dogs from the Dust-Crack clan skimping outside.