The morning air inside the Adventurers' Guild was thick with a cacophony of voices, clashing armor, and the frantic shuffling of parchment—more chaotic than the usual early-hour rush. As Eins and Lysara stepped through the heavy oak doors, their attention was immediately snagged by a young girl standing trembling before the reception desk. She was a rabbit-kin Beastfolk, sporting short, chocolate-brown hair that poked out from beneath a rugged leather hoodie. Her long, iconic ears were drooped in a sign of profound distress, and two small, well-worn daggers hung precariously from her slender waist.
Ena looked visibly overwhelmed, her hands raised in a futile attempt to calm the girl, until her eyes caught sight of the duo approaching.
"Eins! Lysara! Thank the stars you're here!" Ena called out, her voice laced with visible relief. She waved them over urgently. "Meet Naya Recta. She's a Porcelain-rank adventurer facing a dire emergency."
Naya turned, her large, amber eyes red and swollen from crying. She scanned Eins from his scuffed boots up to his scholarly spectacles, then furrowed her brow in blatant skepticism. "Ena... are you joking? I need powerful warriors to save my best friend. This guy... he looks like he can't even lift a sword, let alone fight," Naya said bluntly, gesturing toward Eins, who was indeed draped in his usual leather satchel and clutching a weathered notebook.
Eins gave a wry, self-deprecating laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, your assessment isn't exactly wrong, Naya. Physically, I'm far from a powerhouse. However..." He tilted his head toward his companion, where Lysara stood like an immovable monument, radiating an aura of quiet, suffocating intimidation.
Lysara stepped forward, her shadow engulfing the small rabbit-kin. The sheer weight of her presence made Naya stumble back a step, her breath hitching. "Tell us the situation," Lysara commanded, her voice low, resonant, and stripped of all fluff. "Why was your comrade left behind?"
Naya looked down, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the wooden counter. "We were on a resource-gathering mission in the lower levels of an ancient ruin. Suddenly, a combined horde of Orcs and Sage Goblins swarmed from the shadows. We were completely surrounded... outclassed. My best friend, Nio... he told us to run. He stayed behind as a decoy so the rest of us could make it to the exit."
Naya's voice cracked. "I wanted to stay! But the others dragged me away by force. We left him all alone to face those monsters... it was cowardice!"
Lysara let out a cold, sharp huff, her eyes flashing with a predatory disdain. "Abandoning a comrade to save one's own skin... a pathetic way to live."
Eins quickly placed a calming hand on Lysara's shoulder, feeling the tension in her muscles. "Wait, Lysara. In a desperate pincer movement, sometimes that's the only logical path. If everyone stays to die, no one lives to bring word or seek help. Naya did the right thing by coming here immediately."
Eins turned his focus back to the trembling girl, his expression turning clinical and serious. "Give me the exact coordinates."
"The Tower of Knowledge," Naya answered breathlessly. "In the southern sector, right on the fringe of the Rain Forest."
Eins stiffened. "The Tower of Knowledge? That's an Old World structure with a notoriously labyrinthine layout. Fine, Naya. We're taking the contract. Lead the way."
The trio moved with practiced urgency. Eins and Lysara mounted their sturdy brown mare, while Naya demonstrated the incredible agility of her kin, leaping with fluid grace from branch to branch, keeping pace with the galloping horse through the forest canopy.
It wasn't long before the jagged, moss-covered silhouette of the stone tower rose above the treeline like a rotted tooth. Massive, serpentine roots coiled around its base, and the air surrounding the structure was heavy and stagnant, reeking of the metallic tang of monster musk.
Eins tethered their horse in a concealed thicket, meticulously ensuring it had water—a quiet ritual of care he never skipped. Meanwhile, Lysara began a series of light stretches. The sickening crack-pop of her knuckles echoing through the silent clearing made Naya swallow hard.
The moment they stepped into the grand foyer of the tower, the ambush began. A squad of hulking, green-skinned Orcs and a handful of cackling Kobolds surged from behind the cracked marble pillars, led by a Sage Goblin draped in tattered robes and clutching a gnarled wooden staff.
"Stay behind me, Eins!" Lysara barked.
She blurred into motion, a streak of ivory and shadow. Eschewing weapons, she relied on the terrifying lethality of her own anatomy. She drove a palm strike into an Orc's chest, the force so great it collapsed his iron breastplate into his lungs; she then spun in a low arc, her leg connecting with a Kobold's skull, sending it hurtling into the stone wall with a wet thud.
Eins didn't just watch. He reached into his satchel, unfurling a shimmering parchment. "Lysara, focal point! Magic Scroll: Strength Augmentation!"
A brilliant golden radiance enshrouded Lysara, optimizing her muscle fibers for peak efficiency. Her strikes began creating visible shockwaves that tore through the stagnant air. Naya stood frozen by the entrance, her jaw dropped. The woman who had been so quiet on the road was now a whirlwind of divine violence.
Once the room was reduced to a silent graveyard of monster carcasses, Lysara stood in the center, her breathing perfectly rhythmic despite the spatters of green ichor on her cheeks.
Eins walked over, pulling a clean cloth from his pocket. With a gentleness that bordered on the intimate, he wiped the blood from her forehead. "Excellent work. But keep your senses sharp; we haven't found Nio yet."
Lysara remained still, her fierce eyes softening as she leaned slightly into his touch.
They pushed deeper into the tower's heart, following Naya toward a massive chamber that had once served as the primary archive. There, in the center of the dim, cavernous room, lay a solitary figure sprawled across a heap of ancient dust. He was covered in blood, motionless.
"Nio!" Naya shrieked, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. She broke into a frantic sprint toward her fallen friend.
"Don't move!" Lysara hissed, her hand shooting out to grab the back of Naya's leather hoodie, yanking her back behind a pillar.
"Let me go! He's dying!" Naya struggled, her panic blinding her.
"Look up, you little fool," Lysara growled, pointing her chin toward the vaulted ceiling.
Eins squinted, adjusting his spectacles. High above, perched atop the rotting husks of giant bookshelves, two massive stone statues sat motionless, their eyes glowing with a faint, malevolent red light.
"Two Greater Gargoyles..." Eins whispered, his face draining of color. "Naya, this tower is no place for a Porcelain-rank. Gargoyles are apex predators that enjoy 'marinating' their prey with fear. They've been using Nio as live bait to lure in a bigger meal."
The two stone monsters began to unfurl their expansive, leathery wings, the sound of grinding rock grating against the ears.
Back at their new home, Zelia was safe, but here in the suffocating dark of the tower, Eins realized the rescue mission had just mutated into a desperate struggle for survival against creatures of living stone.
To be continued...