At the Adventurer's Guild, every adventurer within Whiteburn was packed inside the grand common hall of the Guild.
Adventurers from as young as 13 to as old as 70, from the weakest to the strongest were all present here.
In front of the receptionist counter, Arnold sat on a chair still on his armor he wore a while ago. His party members were all sitting on a nearby large table with exhaustion written all over their faces.
It wasn't the physical toll that burdened them, but the mental one. They were very much shaken after encountering a creature like that. Especially the sly looking man, he has come to realize that if they hadn't moved according to Arnold, all of them would've been food to that horrifying creature.
The other teammates were in similar conditions, some younger ones shakenly realizing they might have a generational trauma if that type of monster became common everywhere at some point.
