The morning light filtered through the curtains of Xin's apartment, it casted a pale peach glow over the messy papers scattered on the floor. Papers with a peach glow over them would not have made their contents more legible, but Xin's focus was elsewhere. He sat cross-legged on his rug, a mountain of receipts, bills, and hastily scribed notes piled beside him. He was mostly through going through what was probably one of the last years' worth of papers, and he was already letting the next set of papers coming into his hands dictate his body's next motion. That next motion was dictating toward the papers' next flip.
"Come on... I know you're here somewhere," he muttered under his breath.
Buried in tickets stubs and crumpled invoices, he finally found it—The concert logbook.
"Ahh, how could i forget!" he exhaled, almost laughing at himself. But the moment of relief was short lived.
His eyes scanned the pages, and the blood drained from his face. HIs fingers, steady just as moments before, now trembled as they traced over the inked numbers. The reality of it hit him like a punch to a gut.
His debt wasn't just bad oh no,no—It was catastrophic.
3.5 Million gold coins
Xin swallowed hard, but was suddenly dry. He turned to Belial, his expression troubled. " We...were 3.5 million gold in debt"
He barely recognize his own voice, it sounded hollow. Drained of all hope
Belial had been stretching his body stiff from all the fighting the night prior, his arms lazily reaching over his head, but at those words, his movement stopped to a halt. His gaze sharpened and all traces of sleepiness vanishing.
"That's...A lot of money" he said slowly as if trying to process his own words. "Who do you owe?"
"My benefactor, were...not on talking terms" Xin replied almost mumbling,
"How do you think you're gonna pay it off?"
Xin dint answer right away, instead he got up to his feet and began pacing back and forth, his hands threading through his already messy hair.
"Maybe if i pull together every bit of the ticket sales, merchandise and sponsorships...No, that wont be enough. Maybe if i sell my instruments? No..even that wont even put a dent in it..." He stopped his fingers against his temples. "Damn it! There's no way i can come up with this on my own!"
Belial watched, his arms crossed as he analyzed the situation. Xin wasn't just some random musician trying to scrape by...he was a musician drowning in debt! And if he dint find a way to pay it of the benefactor wouldn't wait forever.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, something stirred in the depths of Belial's mind. A memory of the past.
He saw himself as a child, sneaking in and sitting alone in the dark corners of the Demon kings library, poring over dusty books with pages so old they crumble at the edges. They told stories of adventure guilds—of Hunters.
Organizations filled with fearless hunters warriors who roamed the land battling monsters beyond human comprehension. They fought for glory, for survival, for the thrill of the hunt, But most of all, they fought for the rewards—The money.
Belial had treasured these tales...it was part of the reason why he left The demon realm—a Small part! Of course he wanted to save his people first.
"We need to find a guild," he said. Xin stopped pacing. "What?"
Belial met his gaze, steady and serious. "A hunters guild, One that'll take us in . Give us work. When we hunt we earn the money."
Xin stared at him, trying to gauge if this was an answer out of desperation or a conclusion.
"You think we can just become hunters?" Xin asked almost dismissively.
"Unless you have a better plan?" Belial shrugged
Xin didn't have a better idea and his silence was all that Belial needed, The decision was made.
Soon they hit the streets, moving through the heart of the city as the sun hung in the sky, One by one thy approached the guild halls. And one by one, they were turned away.
Lacked experience? Reputation? Money? None. all the guilds saw were two broke teens with debt and a pipe dream.
Belial kicked a pebble, sending it skittering into a smelly gutter." you believe this? Not even a second glance!"
Xin's shoulders were slumped, but his voice had a quiet resolve. " I know. Its discouraging. But we cant let this setback stop us."
Belial shot him a skeptical glance. "with what? We have nothing to offer."
"You're wrong," Xin said, his eyes burning with a subtle fire. "we have grit. Willing to risk everything. Somewhere out there, a guild will see that in us."
Okay i don't know about 'Everything' But lets hope Xin's right.
Belial sighed...then gave a faint smile. "You're naive, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one"
They kept walking, dusk embodying silva city like a mothers warmth. Somewhere along the way, their conversation softened...drifting toward stories about past concerts and some embarrassing memories. Xin never finished his stories and Belial kept most of his stories Obscure.
But it was then when thy saw it.
The Crimson Phoenix Guild.
The Building rose above them like a monument, Tall and unmoving. A massive Crimson emblem of a phoenix spread across the facade, winds stretching skywards, flames embedded into the stone.
Belial stopped at the massive opened door. Looked at his roommate and then. Nodded.
"All right," he said squaring his shoulders. "Lets do it."
The moment Belial and Xin stepped inside the guild hall's Great doors they were promptly bashed with every sound imaginable, Unlike the other guilds it had a Circular tavern in the middle with tables surrounding it. Laughter and jolly chatter, joined with drunkards clunking their bottles. The guild had an energetic and chaotic atmosphere, The large room was a hive of hunters of varying shapes ad sizes, eyes jumping from conversation to conversation.
Their entrance had not gone unnoticed, a cluster of harden hunters was glaring at them from a distance but they chose to not notice them.
This guild was known for accepting criminals and convicts, A dangerous place to say the least.
Belial cast an unreadable glance Xin's way. "We got this, what could go wrong?" he said, though he wasn't so sure himself.
Xin couldn't hep but admire the bravery of Belial, who was willing to walk this menacing guild.
When they crossed the circular bar they saw the receptionist table on the other end of the room , A xin neared the receptionist desk, he struggled to keep his voice even. "Excuse me ma'am—Were looking to join the guild."
The receptionist sized them up for a moment, her eyes settling on them dangerously. It seemed that her Green eyes that could pierce ones soul.
"If you want to join, then first you must sign these terms and agreements," said the stunningly threatening receptionist. "Next, you need to demonstrate that you can actually perform the work we require. For that, you're going to need five gold pieces, one hundred ears from orcs or goblins, and a test, of course. We can't have just anyone getting in here and going rogue on us. That would be bad for business. So, what do you say?"
She sweetly smiled, but her tone was anything but. Belial noted the mole on her cheek, just near her lips, and took in the top bun of hair he had never seen being worn that way.
Why was her hair tied tightly in a top bun? It wasn't a style that lent itself to a good work environment. Wasn't she allowed to have an office with central air? It was a technique for keeping hair off one's neck in summer. Yet she was wearing a fitted pencil skirt and a button-down shirt that was not at all tousled. If she'd been having a good hair day, was the top bun part of some good hair day record she was setting?
Belial regarded Xin with a still face. "This is something we can do," he said, and his voice was as even as can be.
Xin acknowledged, with barely restrained admiration, that Belial's manner of presentation had a way of turning the potential for disaster into something that sounded not just possible but eminently sensible.
On the evening they headed to Xin's apartment for a last final preparatory round, the streets of Silva City were dark. The city was silent, and yet the air felt pregnant with some sort of veil.
Belial swung his katana over his shoulder and packed rations that were light. Xin, in the meantime, grunted as he wrestled a huge, stupid axe out of the corner—an axe that was almost as tall as he was.
Belial lifted an eyebrow. "That ting looks heavy, Can you even fight with that?" He asked incredulously.
Grinning, Xin said, "More than enough," and threw it over his shoulder.
Belial looked at the thick, ungainly weapon in front of him. He had seen many strange tools of warfare in his time, but something about Xin's axe bothered him. It was as if the weapon were semiconscious, unable, for now, to do what it was made to do.
"What do you make of it?" Xin asked.
"Uh...It's a weapon alright..," Belial said.
Xin's gaze remained steady and sure.
They took an east-bound, late-night train to the Outlands. At first, the journey was a quiet one—until it was finally made not-so-quiet by Belial.
"What's this kingpin really about?"
Xin's look soured. His voice became somber.
"Let's just say... we aren't friends. When I ceased to work with him, he offered me a parting gift. He said he would cheerfully finance my attempts to take the music world by storm, so long as I fed him intel on the people I was working with. He can be your number-one helper or, as long as you play the tune he wants. But if you don't march in step... He doesn't just rain on your parade. He makes you and the parade disappear."
Belial sat quietly, watching his friend. For the first time, he saw something brittle beneath Xin's confidence. This mission wasn't just about money—it was survival.
The train screeched to a stop, and the two of them stepped out into Gregon Forest. The air, sweet with pine, became dense, and as they walked deeper into the forest, the noise around them grew, a thousand whispers rising to shout.
Not one orc in sight; but it was deceitful silence.
Xin's eyes swept the trees, his gut churning. Belial moved like a pro, each step copied exactly in the all-too-familiar timing of a human watchman. Neither of them found it necessary to talk. Both of them felt it, anyway—something was watching.
Then arrived at the forest.
It cleaved the night air like a bolt from the blue. Xin felt a twitch of fear and scrambled for his axe. Another bellow came next—sounded like it was right on top of them.
"Those are the targets," Xin whispered.
Belial nodded. Wordless, they moved ahead—until the orcs came into view, a whole pack of them standing between them and their rewards. Their yellow-red eyes shone in the pale light. Then, like clockwork, the orcs stepped forward to engage them, shrieking their war cries and swinging their weapons.
The katana of Belial whistled through the air. Xin's axe crashed like thunder. They moved together like a storm—synchronized, precise, and deadly.
The orcs screamed as they clashed with steel in the forest. Blades flashed in the moonlight. Instinct ruled in a blur of time.
The silence of the night came back when the final orc hit the ground with a dull thud.
Breathing hard, with her axe poised to strike, Xin shouted, "We did it!"
Belial smirked. "No...you did it."
Xin smiled. "You were not too shabby yourself."