The adventurer's guild bustled with its usual chorus of chatter, clinking tankards, and the shuffle of boots across the wooden floors. The enormous hall smelled faintly of parchment, steel, and sweat. Suho pushed the heavy door open, with Lyra—the soft-spoken healer he had met in the dungeon—walking quietly behind him.
Heads turned almost instantly.
"Isn't that the rookie who cleared the goblin nest?" someone muttered.
"He survived with just a healer?" another scoffed.
Suho ignored the whispers, walking toward the reception desk with steady steps. Lyra trailed close, her green eyes flicking nervously at the watching adventurers.
The guild receptionist, a sharp-eyed woman with auburn hair, arched a brow. "Suho Kim, wasn't it? You're back already. And with… a partner?"
"Yes," Suho said simply. "We'd like to register as a party."
A murmur spread through the hall. Registering as an official party meant commitment—it meant the guild recognized them as a unit.
Lyra hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her cloak. "A-are you sure about this, Suho? I'm just a healer—"
He glanced back at her, his voice calm but firm. "You kept me alive in there. That's more than enough. We'll get stronger together."
The receptionist tapped her quill against the ledger. "Name of the party?"
Suho's mind flickered with countless possibilities, but before he could answer, Lyra whispered, "What about… Twilights of Mist? It sounds like… two people walking out of the shadows together."
Suho smirked slightly. "Twilights of Mist. That's our name."
The receptionist scribbled it down. "Very well. You're now officially registered. As a new party, you'll start with basic contracts. Failure will hurt your rank, success will increase your standing. Do you accept your first mission?"
Suho nodded. "Yes."
The woman slid a parchment across the counter. "Escort duty. A caravan bound for the southern trade route. Straightforward, but dangerous. Bandits have been prowling the roads lately."
Suho took the parchment. Behind him, he could feel the weight of countless eyes boring into his back.
---
Later that evening, at a corner table in the guild tavern…
Suho and Lyra reviewed the mission details.
"We'll be traveling with a merchant named Darius. Two wagons, four guards already hired. Our job is to reinforce them until they reach Greenveil," Suho explained.
Lyra frowned, stirring her cup nervously. "Escorts are… risky. It's not like a dungeon where enemies are predictable. What if we're ambushed?"
"Then we fight," Suho said simply. His dark eyes glinted with determination. "If we're going to survive in this world, we can't choose the safe path."
Lyra's lips pressed into a thin line, but then she nodded. "…Alright. I'll trust you."
At a nearby table, a group of adventurers snickered loudly. "That rookie thinks he's tough. Bet he won't last a week."
Suho ignored them, though Lyra looked hurt by the comments. He leaned closer and spoke quietly so only she could hear.
"We'll prove them wrong. Not with words, but with results."
---
The next morning…
The caravan rumbled along the dusty southern road. Suho walked alongside the wagon, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Lyra sat inside the rear cart, tending to the merchant's sickly wife with gentle healing magic.
The hired guards eyed Suho suspiciously. "You're just a kid," one grunted. "Think you can protect us when things get messy?"
Suho didn't respond. He simply kept walking, eyes scanning the horizon.
The journey passed uneventfully for the first two days. But on the third day, as dusk painted the sky in red and gold, Suho felt it—a shift in the air.
He halted. "Stop the caravan."
The merchant, riding at the front, looked back in confusion. "What is it?"
Suho narrowed his eyes. "…We're being watched."
---
Moments later, the attack came.
Arrows whistled through the air, striking the dirt near the wheels. Bandits emerged from the treeline, faces masked, weapons gleaming.
The guards scrambled, raising shields. "Protect the wagons!"
Suho drew his blade in one fluid motion. "Lyra! Stay behind the wagons!"
She nodded, hands glowing faintly with healing light.
The first bandit lunged at Suho with a curved blade. Suho parried, twisting his wrist and countering with a strike to the man's chest. The bandit crumpled.
But more came—ten, twenty, perhaps thirty in total.
"This isn't random," Suho muttered between blows. "Someone planned this."
---
Hours later, as the fires of battle burned low and the surviving bandits fled into the night, Suho stood panting, blade dripping crimson. Lyra rushed to him, healing magic pouring over his wounds.
"You're reckless!" she cried. "Charging into so many at once—what if you died?"
Suho gave her a weary smile. "…Then I would've trusted you to drag me back from the gates."
Her cheeks flushed, but she looked away quickly.
Behind them, the merchant Darius stared in awe. "You're… not ordinary rookies. The guild will hear of this."
Suho tightened his grip on his sword. Somewhere deep inside, he felt something stir—a faint warmth, like a spark of light waiting to ignite.
Not yet, he thought. But soon.
---