The gates of Asha loomed ahead.
A once-proud arch of dark timber, now weather-beaten and scarred by age. Rust-streaked metal bands coiled around the frame like restraints holding the old bones together. Moss clung to the edges. Ivy had begun creeping over the side stones — as if the forest was already reclaiming it.
Two guards leaned lazily against iron-tipped spears. Relaxed. Talking low. Until they noticed the pair walking toward them.
Their conversation stopped mid-breath.
One of them, a younger man with sunburnt skin and a sword too clean for real use, stepped forward and raised a hand.
> "Hold there. State your business outside the city."
There was a twitch in his stance. Not fear — not yet. Just habit. Protocol.
Rei didn't stop.
His boots tapped the worn stone road with steady rhythm. Every step slow, deliberate — like the kind of man who had never once felt the need to rush.
> "You asking for my schedule," he said, voice flat and toneless,
"or just being nosy?"
It wasn't hostile. But it wasn't kind, either.
The guard blinked. His mouth opened, closed again. A bead of sweat had started forming under his collar.
> "I—I'm just following protocol, sir…"
Ailith stepped in smoothly, cutting off the building awkwardness before Rei could speak again. Her tone was casual, but sharp enough to slice the tension.
> "Guild business. Level 4 field dispatch. We're cleared."
She flipped her card out with a practiced snap — a flick of her fingers sending the flat badge flashing in the morning light. The seal of the Asha Adventurer's Guild gleamed faintly, blue sigil glowing like a heartbeat.
Rei produced his card without flair. Just slid it from a dark inner sleeve of his coat, holding it out without expression.
The younger guard stepped forward automatically and took it.
Then he saw the number etched into the surface.
Not printed — etched. Carved with arcane precision in silver-gold filigree, like the card itself had been branded by power.
> Level 7
The guard's breath caught. His pupils dilated slightly — a fight-or-flight response before his mind caught up.
He bowed on instinct. Not deep — but fast. A reflex, like his body had made the decision before he had.
> "Forgive me, sir. I meant no offense." "It's… it's rare. Anyone above Level 5 usually comes through the east route. Not this one."
Rei tilted his head. Just a little. Enough to unsettle.
His face didn't change, but the pause that followed said more than words.
Then—
> "I understand."
"Next time, ask smarter."
The other guard, older and broader-shouldered, winced slightly. But wisely kept quiet.
There was no more resistance.
Ailith gave a small, almost amused nod to the guards as they passed through the threshold. Rei didn't look back once.
---
Behind them, the two men stood in stunned silence.
The younger guard slowly exhaled.
> "He's a Level 7..." he whispered, like the words themselves felt too big for his mouth. "We've only got nine registered Level 5s in all of Asha."
The older one muttered under his breath.
> "Even the Citylord... she's only Level 6." "And now there's another at 7?"
> "You think she knows?"
> "If she doesn't yet... she will soon."
---
💬 On the Road Outside Asha
The city's edge gave way to open grassland — a slow descent into rolling hills lined with brittle, low-branching trees. The wind was clean here. Crisp. It carried the scent of pine, damp soil, and something deeper. Something feral.
Rei spoke first.
No warning. Just a question tossed like a pebble into still water.
> "Those guards. Who do they serve?"
Ailith shrugged, falling into rhythm beside him. Her steps were lighter. Looser. She fit the road like someone used to travel. Her tail swayed casually behind her.
> "Citylord's men. You saw the fang symbol on the right shoulder?"
> "Didn't notice."
> "Figures," she smirked.
She glanced sideways, watching for a reaction. Got none. As expected.
> "Lady Reka governs Asha. Locals call her Madam 07. Bit of a myth in these parts."
> "That a name or a threat?"
> "Depends on the mood."
Ailith adjusted the strap on her satchel.
> "She's a Level 6. Officially. Keeps Asha clean, keeps the guild honest. Doesn't like surprises, though."
Rei said nothing for several seconds. Just stared ahead.
A crow flew overhead. Silent wings. No call.
> "And this mission might get her attention?"
> "Only if you tear the forest in half or come back wearing a mountain as a coat."
> "So no promises."
She chuckled, almost fond.
> "Focus up, mountain boy. Wolves aren't gonna gut themselves."
> "They're Level 3s. Seven total. Shouldn't be more than cleanup."
He flexed his fingers inside his gloves. The fabric creaked faintly as his joints shifted — calm, mechanical.
> "Forest's too quiet," he added.
> "Hm?"
> "Wind's wrong."
> "...You're worse than an old dog sniffing ghosts."