Ignoring the unconscious body of the orc, Nico hitched the sling of his shotgun higher on his shoulder before crossing the threshold into the interior of the Adventurer's Guild.
But his path was immediately blocked by the same wall of muscle that sent the Orc flying.
Standing directly in front of him, looming like a guard tower, was a massive man of tanned skin and a bald head that gleamed under the mana lamps.
The flowing, intricate robes of a mage he wore, covered biceps that were thicker than Nico's thighs.
Nico's breath hitched in his throat, half from the recognition that hit him and half from the sheer pressure he exuded.
[It's him,] Nico thought while keeping his face impassive. [The mage from the Southern Border… we ran into his party just after escaping the forest.]
The man's eyes locked onto Nico instantly before shifting to the nonchalant Dragon behind him.
