Starfall City (The capital), Inside the Mercenaries Guild
The head branch of the mercenaries guild was busy as usual.
The building was built in a unique style. The whole building was circular, built high up into a cylinder, with multiple functional floors above.
The bottom floor was the reception and dining area, and four entrances were built around it. Inside, you would be greeted by ten receptionists posted on the whole floor.
On the same floor, food and drink were served, and tables were scattered around the spacious area.
Boards with job requests were posted up on the walls for mercenaries to pick from, though it was mostly filled with common jobs most of the time.
The best jobs tended to be picked off immediately.
A multitude of unaffiliated cultivators were the regulars of this joint. As such, it tended to be loud and packed.
Today was no different.
Over on a table of two, two women were enjoying their drinks while in the middle of a conversation.
"The board only posted a common beast‑hunting contract and a forest purge," Serena sighs. "We need something worth more coin."
Dalia shrugs, her stockings brushing the floor: "Patience. Someone worth their weight hasn't come by yet with a job. Besides, if things truly get desperate, we won't have the luxury of being picky."
"I know, but we haven't had any decent jobs for days, and my rental is almost due for the month. We can't keep taking cheap jobs and hoping everything will go well soon."
"You are right, but look, it looks like times are not hard for all of us." She gestured with her head over.
Far across from them, a group of mercenaries sat on a large table.
"Tch, they probably robbed some merchants somewhere."
Modir and his men. They were waiting for their drinks and being loud as usual. They only celebrated like that if they had found some decent loot.
Serena frowned. She felt uncomfortable every time she cast her eyes on that man. He was unsavoury.
He and his men did nothing but spend their coin on gear, alcohol, and women.
Well, just like most mercenaries. Only, they were ten times worse. She lifted her gaze, deciding to focus her attention elsewhere.
A bar lady navigated the crowded room with two trays of foamy mugs, expertly juggling her task while maintaining a warm smile.
She was headed towards Modir's table.
She approached the group of mercenaries, setting down the tray with a clink. "Your order, esteemed sirs." She spoke, turning away quickly to her next table.
Just as she was about to move away, Modir reached out and slapped her on the rear end with a loud crackle of leather.
"Damn, you have a tight ass!" Modir shouted, a wide, crooked grin on his scarred face. His men laughed uproariously.
"Boss has a good eye, as usual." The men got busy, complimenting Modir's 'good' taste in women.
The bar lady's eyes widened as she tried to maintain her composure, but Modir was not done. "You know, I need someone to warm my bed tonight, if you know what I mean... I'm sure your ass could use some excitement. I can fill it up in ways you would have never thought possible."
"Don't forget to hand her down to me once you are done, boss. But don't leave her broken like the last one, it felt like I was fucking a corpse."
The laughing intensified.
"Come on now, men, why are you telling such blatant lies. I would never do that to a lady. I treat all my toys with 'care'."
The woman felt goosebumps all over her body. Like her whole body was getting pickled.
Her face flushed with anger and discomfort, she hastily stepped back. "Ah, excuse me! I need to, uh, attend to something else."
But before she could walk off, Modir grabbed her wrist with one hand, still seated on his chair. "Are you saying no to me?"
He slapped her other ass cheek.
The bar lady's eyes grew wide with surprise, and she yelped softly, taking a step back and rising into the air.
Serena and Delia watched the exchange with disgusted looks on their faces, and it looked like no one else in the room noticed.
That spoke volumes about Modir's actions. It was a regular occurrence, and no one seemed to care.
What was worse, he had the strength to back up his arrogance and unsavory attitude, so they could not just tell him to back down.
Suddenly, Modir turned to look at the duo, as if sensing their disgusted gazes.
Modir cackled at Serena's and Delia's disgusted looks, clearly enjoying their discomfort. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table, and fixed them both with a leering gaze.
"What's wrong, ladies? Feeling a little left out?" he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't worry, there's room for two more."
Serena narrowed her eyes, glaring daggers at the lecherous mercenary leader. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest to conceal her growing unease.
Dalia, too, felt her stomach churn at the leering man's brazen behavior towards her.
She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way her nipples had stiffened beneath her thin top as Modir's words had painted a vivid picture in her mind.
Just then, another lady sitting nearby finally spoke up, her voice cutting through the tense silence. "Enough! He's a disgusting pig who doesn't deserve any of us to debase ourselves for his twisted amusement."
The other female mercenaries murmured their agreement, some shooting Modir dirty looks of their own.
However, that only prompted Modir and his group to keep laughing. For a moment, it seemed like the situation would boil over.
Suddenly, the entire room fell silent as the main door swung open, revealing a tall, well-dressed man with an air of authority about him.
His white hair was swept back neatly, and he wore a crisp black shirt under a finely tailored black coat, with a golden emblem emblazoned on his lapel.
The emblem was one that anyone in the city would instantly recognize. The royal family's crest.
The bar lady felt Modir's grip on her wrist loosen, and she took the chance to make her escape.
Modir, realizing his prey had escaped a second later, called out after her, "Hey, sweetheart! You would've made a fine addition to my bedroll!"
She didn't respond, but instead quickened her pace, trying to put some distance between herself and the boisterous man.
She had been in this profession long enough to know how to handle such situations, but it never got any easier.
She burst through the door of the guild's storage room, slamming it shut behind her.
Taking a few deep breaths, she leaned against the wall, trying to calm down. It wasn't the first time someone had mistreated her like that, but it still stung.
Meanwhile, back in the hall...
The man strode purposefully into the room, his polished boots clicking against the wooden floor as he made his way toward the reception desk.
The mercenaries and guild workers alike stopped their conversations, watching the newcomer with mild interest.
He approached the reception desk.
The receptionist behind it stood up straight, her professional demeanor returning in an instant. "Good evening, sir. How may I assist you today?" She flashed him a welcoming smile.
The man handed her a small, intricately folded piece of parchment.
"I'd like to post an announcement, please," he said, his voice clear and commanding. "I am here on behalf of the Starfall Royal Family to announce an important event."
He paused dramatically, letting the tension build before continuing. "His Majesty King Aldric has declared a grand martial tournament to be held in one month's time, and he seeks worthy warriors from across the land to compete for glory and riches. "
The mercenaries all listened with bated breaths, their eyes widening. They hadn't had a martial tournament in decades.
Such an event was something everyone around the world looked forward to. And they came only once every few decades; the host was different every time.
And this time, it would be the top dogs hosting...It was bound to be one for the ages.
Why did people go crazy over martial tournaments, you may ask? For fame, for glory, for the coin and rewards. That was for those who participated.
For those who didn't?
The betting, the thrill, visitors from across the world come to watch, and that means business.
It was a huge bonus for those who stayed in the capital, no matter how you sliced it. This was big.
The receptionist took the paper and asked, "Of course, sir. Under normal circumstances, that would be two gold. But since this is a request from the esteemed rulers, the guild will waive the fee. Of course, provided you have proof of your identity."
The man smiled, producing gold coins and a silver amulet from his pocket. "These should cover it, my dear. The royal family does not take charity services; we can pay our own dues."
"Of course, sir, apologies for my ignorance." She bowed to the man. Satisfied, the receptionist nodded and accepted the payment before walking over to the job board.
She carefully unrolled the parchment and fixed it to the board, where it caught everyone's eye.
A murmur began to spread through the crowd, growing into a buzz of excitement as mercenaries turned to each other, their eyes shining with anticipation.
The receptionist returned to her seat, surveying the room with a knowing look.
She was relatively new to her post, but she knew the importance of this event; she had been to a few martial tournaments herself, and she knew how profitable it would be for the guild.
'Finally, I can get a bonus after months of tireless work.'