Kevin answered, "Just a minute. We're coming out."
"Okay!" Warren called back, his footsteps retreating toward the kitchen.
Kevin finished tightening the straps on his boots while Celize adjusted her cloak.
They stepped into the narrow hallway together.
At the kitchen, a low wooden table stood in the center, set with plates of fried eggs, thick slices of bread, and a pitcher of milk. Warren stood proudly beside the table, hands clasped behind his back. Mara sat on a chair near the wall, wrapped in a simple shawl, her face pale but calmer than the night before.
Celize immediately noticed the ring on Mara's finger.
It was old, silver dulled by years of wear, but the insignia carved into it caught her attention. A circular crest with a vertical line through its center and three tiny notches at the base. The symbol she saw somewhere but couldn't remember.
She stared for a moment too long.
Mara noticed the look and smiled faintly. "Is something wrong, miss?"
Celize shook her head gently. "No… I just thought I recognized your ring. I must be mistaken."
Mara lifted her hand and studied the ring as if seeing it for the first time in years. "It was my husband's. He wore it when he was still alive. I don't even remember what the symbol means anymore."
Kevin pulled out a chair for Celize before sitting across from her. "Thank you for the food," he said. "And for giving us a place to stay."
Mara inclined her head. "We should be the ones thanking you. The meat… and the gold you gave my son. That was more kindness than we've seen in years."
Kevin gave a small shrug. "I'm just paying rent. I'll give one gold coin a day as long as Warren helps me."
Mara was shocked. "That's too much. You could just pay 3 silver coins a day with meals included. And you could ask for Warren anytime."
Warren's eyes widened. "Help you? With what?"
Kevin glanced at him. "What do you usually do during the day?"
"I sell yungwa near the town gate," Warren replied promptly.
Kevin blinked. "Yungwa?"
Warren hurried to the wooden bench near the wall and lifted its lid. Beneath it was a small wooden box. He opened it and took something out, holding it up proudly.
It was a small ball of tightly packed dried leaves.
Kevin turned it in his fingers. "What's inside?"
Celize answered before Warren could. "It's a dawnbettle nut wrapped in dried tobacco leaf. Adventurers chew it to relax. Soldiers, too. Even some merchants when business is bad."
Kevin hummed thoughtfully. "So it's like a cigarette, but they chew this one rather than smoking it."
Celize said, "They also smoke tabaco leaves, but people thought it was too mild, so they prepare yungwa."
Kevin returned the yungwa to Warren. "Since you sell near the town gate, you'll hear things. Travelers talk. Merchants gossip. Soldiers complain. That's what I want."
Warren tilted his head. "You mean… spying?"
Kevin shook his head. "No. Just collecting information. Don't ask questions. Don't interrogate anyone. Just listen. Whatever you hear, you tell me."
Mara's fingers tightened on the fabric of her shawl. "That sounds dangerous," she said quietly. "What if someone notices him?"
"It won't be dangerous," Kevin replied calmly. "As long as he acts normal. He already hears things. Like last night—about the battle, about adventurers arriving. I just want him to tell me what he already hears."
Warren brightened. "That's easy. I talk to the elders all the time. They like to complain."
Kevin nodded. "Good. Will you help us?"
"Yes!" Warren answered without hesitation.
Kevin reached into his storage ring and took out a single gold coin, placing it in Warren's palm. "Here's your pay for today."
Warren stared at the coin as if it might vanish. "This… this is too much."
"Just as I promised you earlier. It's not just for the rent and meals, but the price for information," Kevin said. "We'll be out most of the day. We're registering at the adventurers' guild."
"I'll go with you!" Warren offered eagerly.
Kevin shook his head. "No need. Go sell your yungwa."
Warren nodded proudly.
As Kevin and Celize prepared to leave, Mara called out softly, "Warren, before you go… tell Juno the woodmaker to stop by later. I want to commission a bed."
Warren grinned. "Bigger one, right?"
"For two people," Mara said with a faint smile.
She then looked at Kevin and Celize, "Are you a couple, right?"
Kevin just glanced at Celize, not saying anything.
Celize blushed beneath the hood, "You could say like that." Her voice was so low, like whispering.
Warren hesitated, then nodded and rushed off toward the market.
Kevin and Celize stepped into the street.
Kevin glanced at Celize, "Couple, huh. Sounds good to me."
Celize glared at Kevin, "We've been together for a couple of days, I don't mind being mistaken to be your girlfriend."
Kevin smiled, "I don't mind you being my girlfriend at all."
Celize's face turned red, "Shut up and move already." She walked faster.
Kevin stared at her back and smiled.
Que'tol in the morning was loud with life. Merchants rolled open their wooden shutters. Adventurers passed by in mixed armor and leather—some laughing, some brooding, many already tense with anticipation. The massive walls of the town cast long shadows across the stone roads.
As they walked toward the adventurers' guild, Celize finally spoke. "About the ring… I still feel like I've seen that insignia before."
Kevin glanced at her. "From a book?"
"Possibly," she said slowly. "Or an old record. I can't be sure yet."
They reached the wide plaza where the guild stood—a tall stone building adorned with banners and runic carvings. The doors were already open, and a short line of adventurers stood outside.
Kevin took a step forward.
Then he stopped.
His entire body tensed at once.
A pressure swept through the air—cold, heavy, unmistakable. It was not an attack, not even hostility. It was simply presence. Overwhelming presence.
Even the shadows beneath his feet stirred.
Sallie's awareness pressed faintly against his senses.
Black Rabbit's form rippled within his shadow, alert and coiled.
Kevin slowly turned his head.
From the far end of the plaza, a group of adventurers approached.
They did not walk with the casual swagger of ordinary mercenaries. Each step they took was deliberate, confident, unhurried. Their gear was worn, but not from neglect—every dent and scratch was proof of survival.
There were five of them.
Leading the group was a tall man in dark steel armor etched with silver lines that faintly glowed. At his back was a massive greatsword sheathed in black leather. His mere presence bent the atmosphere around him, like gravity itself bowed.
Behind him walked a woman with long crimson hair tied in a high braid. Twin curved blades rested at her hips. Her eyes scanned every corner of the plaza with predatory ease.
The third was a towering man carrying a shield almost as tall as he was, his body wrapped in layered plate armor scarred by countless battles.
The fourth was a slender man in a hooded cloak, his face mostly hidden, faint glimmers of light flickering along his fingertips.
And the fifth…
The fifth made Kevin's breath catch.
Silver-white hair. Pale skin. His silver eyes that reflected faint moonlight even in daylight.
A Moonchild.
The moment the party entered the plaza, the crowd reacted.
Adventurers who had been laughing just moments before fell silent. Those standing in the way stepped aside without being asked. Even seasoned mercenaries lowered their gazes instinctively.
Power demanded space.
Celize leaned closer to Kevin. "What's wrong?"
He whispered without taking his eyes off the group, "That party… every single one of them is dangerous. More powerful than Kelya ever was."
Her eyes widened. "All of them?"
"Yes."
The party moved past the waiting adventurers toward the guild doors. The plaza had fallen eerily quiet. The air itself seemed to tighten as they passed.
Kevin's gaze locked onto the Moonchild.
A fragment of memory surfaced.
A large hall. Rows of seats. The hum of voices. Orientation day.
He remembered sitting alone near the edge, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
And beside him…
A young man with silver hair had taken the empty seat.
They hadn't spoken much. Just exchanged names.
Jason Crayhorn.
Kevin's lips moved silently.
"Jason…"
The Moonchild passed beneath the guild's stone arch without sparing a glance at the crowd. Yet for a brief, fleeting moment, his eyes shifted.
Their gazes met.
Just for an instant.
Kevin felt it like a strike to the chest.
The pressure vanished the second the party entered the building. The plaza exhaled as if freed from a suffocating weight. Noise rushed back in—voices, footsteps, shouts.
Celize finally released the breath she'd been holding. "What kind of people were they?"
Kevin stared at the closed doors of the adventurers' guild.
"…People who walk on an entirely different battlefield now."
His fingers curled slowly at his side.
"And one of them was a moonchild," he added under his breath.
Celize looked at him in shock.