The guild's training ground.
Since early morning, there was one guest who had taken up a spot there.
It was a spacious training ground, yet there was only a single person.
Rather than it being because of the early hour... it was a place that few people used to begin with.
There weren't any particularly strict conditions for use, but as it was a facility of the Mercenary Guild, one needed prior permission to use it.
Moreover, since diligent mercenaries who practiced on purpose were rare, the place was empty most of the time.
The identity of the mercenary monopolizing this unpopular facility was... Chris, a mercenary belonging to the guild.
Chris was holding his sword and staring down at it intently.
It wasn't the standard-issue supply sword from the guild, but his own real sword that he had used during his life as a mercenary.
It was an item he had been maintaining almost out of obligation. He couldn't even remember exactly how long it had been since he last actually used it.
