"Look over there." "
No way. Surely they didn't just come to post a quest at the guild, did they?"
"Wearing outfits and carrying weapons like that?"
Whispers like these spread throughout the adventurers' guild hall in the city of Aldor.
The reason was simple: that day, two unfamiliar figures suddenly appeared in the guild—a boy and a girl.
Both looked very young. The girl especially seemed to be no more than ten years old.
Yet the two children wore gear typical of adventurers or combat professionals, such as hunters or mercenaries: leather armor, protective limb gear, and backpacks strapped to their backs.
Most striking of all, both carried weapons.
The older-looking boy bore a round shield, a short staff slung across his back, and a small dagger at his belt.
The girl, meanwhile, carried a similar dagger at her waist, a warpick strapped to her back, and a buckler hanging at her side.
Though their attire was no different from that of other adventurers present, that was precisely what made it strange—such equipment was not something ordinary children would wear.
At least the boy didn't seem too unusual, with his sturdy build and the presence of a staff that made others wary.
After all, no one dared underestimate a Mage; even the most basic magic could be a deadly weapon.
But the frail little girl stood out as utterly out of place.
It was clear that the two children were Tris and Rin.
Feeling the weight of countless stares, Rin shrank slightly and whispered:
"Master."
Beside her, Tris sighed.
He had anticipated this attention and disliked it.
However, in the next stage of Rin's training, the need to frequently take her out for combat practice would sooner or later draw attention—something almost impossible to avoid.
Say "almost" because, in truth, if one truly wished to conceal it completely, it wouldn't be impossible. Yet hiding such a matter would require far more effort and leave one exhausted, and ultimately feel wasteful and unnecessary.
Thus, Tris was far too lazy to bother with it any further and decided to let it be.
Tris: "That's the registration desk. Go sign up."
He spoke quietly to Rin.
She stepped forward to register as an adventurer.
The guild staff, unsurprisingly, was shocked by her request. Yet the guild had no age limit for registration—anyone could join if they paid the initial fee.
So despite their surprise, the process went ahead without obstruction.
At least, not from the guild.
???: "Oi, this isn't a playground for brats like you."
Tris turned his head slightly to look behind him, where an adventurer with a clearly irritated attitude was approaching.
He studied the man's face and found it somewhat familiar.
Very quickly, Tris remembered that he had seen him a few days earlier, when another group of adventurers had come to rent the training grounds.
'So that's why he's upset—because of what happened back then.'
Tris quickly deduced the reason and dismissed it.
Tris quickly figured out the reason behind the man's irritation and chose not to pay it any more attention.
Rin glanced back at Tris with a questioning look, but he simply signaled for her to continue with her task.
Seeing that, Rin stopped worrying and turned back to the guild staff to finish the registration process she had begun.
Seeing himself ignored, the adventurer grew angrier.
He grabbed Tris's shoulder and snarled:
"What's with that attitude? You kids, think this place is your playground, doing whatever you want and disrespecting everyone?"
Tris: "You should reflect on the contradiction in your words. And this is your only warning—remove your hand from me."
The man scoffed, tightening his grip as he mocked:
"And if I don't? What will you do, run crying to your father?"
Tris: "I can take you to meet my father if you truly wish."
The adventurer laughed derisively:
"So you really are just a spoiled brat relying on your father."
Tris turned to the nearest guild staffer:
"Are you not going to deal with this nuisance?"
The staff looked uneasy.
They rarely interfered in personal disputes unless they escalated dangerously. And this was not yet at that level.
Moreover, the "nuisance" was a veteran C‑rank adventurer—and a Mage. The staff had no desire to offend him over something so trivial.
But trivial to the guild did not mean trivial to Tris.
For him, allowing anyone to touch him freely was unacceptable.
When Tris directed his question to the guild staff, the adventurer only laughed even harder.
To him, the scene looked like a useless child running to others for help because he couldn't handle his own problems.
Yet he failed to realize this was merely Tris's last attempt to resolve things peacefully and avoid unnecessary trouble.
Tris disliked hassle, but that didn't mean he feared it.
The man's laughter quickly turned into a scream.
The arm he had placed on Tris's shoulder was now bent at an angle no human bone should endure.
It happened so fast that no one saw what truly occurred—not even the adventurer himself, now kneeling on the floor, clutching his broken arm in agony.
Sweat poured down his face, his earlier grin replaced by rage and fear.
Both his radius and ulna had been shattered, as if struck by a massive hammer.
The cause was, of course, Tris—a swift, upward punch delivered with such speed and subtlety that no one could perceive it.
By the time anyone realized something had happened, the adventurer was already on his knees, groaning.
Amid the somewhat chaotic scene around him, Tris seemed entirely unaware of it.
He simply remained standing still, waiting as before, as though the man kneeling nearby did not exist at all.