The coin pouch in Mira's hand dropped onto the reception desk with a dull clang, heavy and solid.
She slid it slightly, aligning it beside several sheets of yellowed paper.
A weighing record, its corners curled, black ink detailing the rarity and weight of the monster materials I had submitted yesterday.
"This is the total value of everything you exchanged."
I hesitated to touch the pouch directly. My hand reached for the paper first.
The sheet felt stiff beneath my fingertips. My eyes lowered slowly, following the neatly arranged rows of numbers.
Twenty silver for Giant Rat claws and fangs. Nine silver for Goblin hides.
My gaze passed over the figures without truly reading them.
Even my fingers lacked the will to press the paper any harder.
It was exactly the payment I had expected from the start, precise, predictable, so perfectly balanced it felt dull.
"Alright," I said briefly.
Without lifting my head, my fingers snatched the coin pouch.
The metal inside clinked softly as I slipped it into my traveler's bag, the sound swallowed by the guild hall's constant din.
"Raul," Mira's voice slipped through the noise, suddenly lighter. "Do you have any plans tonight?"
I paused.
When I turned, she had already leaned her head into her hand, elbow resting on the desk.
"What do you mean?"
"You just arrived yesterday, Raul. Shouldn't you be taking at least a day off?"
"A day? I didn't leave on a guild mission. Just the journey alone took six days. I've already been on 'vacation' for over a week."
Mira closed her eyes, as if accepting that answer without resistance. When she opened them again, a restrained, bitter smile tugged at her cheek.
"Aren't you curious about the Hero rumors?"
I looked at her. "You mean Alex and his party?" My breath caught halfway. For a moment, my chest forgot how to move. "What happened while I was gone?"
"Hmm… I figured you'd be interested in him." She tilted her head. "Go on a date with me tonight."
"Would it kill you to say that first?"
Mira shrugged. "Well, if you don't want to…" Her gaze shifted to the line behind me. "You don't need to know."
I sighed at her behavior. "I'll admit it… you're really devious." My brow tightened unconsciously. "Fine. I'll go along with it. You sly fox."
"That's what I wanted to hear. I'll be waiting at the tavern tonight." She smiled. "And also, this sly fox loves you, Raul."
My brows knit together as I turned away from the reception desk.
My footsteps echoed against the stone floor of the guild hall, cutting through the hum of conversation.
No one tried to hide their stares.
Some pretended to stay busy, freezing halfway through their movements.
This wasn't the first time.
The small gestures were always the same, laughter cut short, backs straightening abruptly, eyes hurriedly looking away whenever I glanced in their direction.
Some fell silent mid-laugh. Others swallowed their whispers. A few stared openly, brows raised, expressions mixing curiosity with thinly veiled disdain.
One large adventurer even stopped sharpening his sword, the whetstone hanging suspended in the air.
I walked straight ahead without looking back.
I let their gazes slide off my back, as meaningless as the dust on their boots.
My steps halted before the mission board standing firmly at the center of the hall.
The old wooden board was crowded with weathered papers pinned by iron nails, some crooked, others overlapping.
Black and red ink filled its surface. Requests for aid. Hunting contracts. Village reports written in haste.
My finger traced the rows of parchment, stopping at several titles pressed down by impatient hands.
There were no requests involving demons.
I scanned every paper related to rumors of demon sightings, different locations, different handwriting.
Among them, several documents bore royal seals slashed through with vivid red ink, radiating a distinct chill.
Requests mentioning demons were never left intact anymore. Torn remnants still clung to the board's edges, nail marks darkened with age.
Each time my eyes passed those signs, memories returned, soft voices behind closed doors, whispering bureaucrats, uniformed soldiers arriving without trace, orders descending like long shadows before dusk.
All demon-related missions had vanished from the board.
Royal seals marked several pages crossed out in red.
That seal alone was enough. Adventurers no longer touched those papers, not even with their fingertips.
Someone else had intervened. And they did not like their name being spoken.
I slowly pulled one sheet free.
The nail creaked as it came loose.
My eyes narrowed as I read line by line, the hall's noise fading into the background, metal clashing, boots striking stone, whispers still daring to speak my name without calling it aloud.
I kept reading, but the air around me shifted.
The hum of the hall pressed closer, tightening from all sides.
Behind me, a half-formed chuckle broke off and died. A brief, awkward pause followed, like a breath collectively held.
And someone carefully set down a cup, far too gently.
"That boy… he looks fragile."
"Yeah. His party didn't come back, right? He's the only one who survived."
My fingertip stopped mid-line.
The paper trembled faintly, whether from my breathing or a draft from the open hall doors, I couldn't tell.
"They say he went into a goblin nest."
"A goblin nest? Aren't goblins weak?"
"That's not the strange part. He kept repeating one word. Over and over. Demon."
I pulled the last nail free. The wood let out a faint cry as the iron slipped away. But I immediately pinned it back in place.
My intention shifted mid-motion.
My steps changed direction.
The whetstone that had moved rhythmically earlier came to an abrupt stop.
"Don't bring it up. I don't want to draw the attention of that boy… or the Demon Maniac."
My stride halted mid-step.
The fingers that had lifted toward the board clenched instead, and my path shifted once more.
I headed back toward the reception desk.
Behind me, the voices that had faded tried to revive themselves.
Forced laughter grew loud. Conversations overlapped unnaturally, too loud to be casual, like people trying to bury something beneath noise.
I didn't turn around.
Those words passed me by, fell onto the stone floor, never truly meant for me in the first place.
The reception desk greeted me again with the smell of old paper and dried ink.
Mira was organizing stacks of documents when my shadow cut across her light.
"Mira. Tell me what happened to that boy," I said. My voice was flat and short. I gestured toward the depressed youth standing in the corner of the guild.
She looked up, one brow lifting slightly, before her familiar smile appeared, the one she used to negotiate prices or defuse situations on the verge of turning ugly.
"Heh, you're suddenly back already. He just wanted to exchange materials, turned in the results of a hunt with his party, not a guild-recommended mission, and then… well. You heard it yourself."
Her hands stopped moving.
She studied me longer than necessary. I leaned slightly against the desk, the wood cold against my palm.
"I don't like asking strangers," I said quietly. "Especially ones loitering around this hall."
Mira sighed. "Raul. I'm telling you the truth. If you're really that curious, just explore the goblin cave in the western forest. Near the demon lands' border." Her fingertip tapped the desk once.
"But honestly, platinum-ranked adventurers handling goblins?" She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "If the answer's obvious, why ask?"
"Because of the demon rumors?"
I didn't deny it.
Mira shook her head slowly, her smile fading into something more sincere.
"Honestly… platinum is already too low for you." She met my gaze directly, no hint of teasing this time. "You're on par with a royal unit. Or… a Hero."
The word lingered between us, heavy, needing no response, only acknowledgment.
I turned my gaze away.
My eyes found him again.
The boy stood as though his body didn't know where to go.
His shoulders sagged, breath catching unevenly. Anyone could tell from the way he stared at the floor, something inside him had already broken.
His lips moved, forming fractured words barely audible, his eyes hollow, fixed on something no longer present in the room.
Unhealed fear clung to his face, settling like a shadow that refused to leave.
My chest tightened.
A creeping discomfort spread through me, making it clear that leaving him alone here wasn't an option.
My feet moved before my thoughts finished assembling reasons.
The decision had already been made, even before I acknowledged it. Like it or not, I would speak to him. The answer I sought was clearly tied to him.
But it was too crowded here. I had no desire to stir a scene.
My footsteps carried me out of the building.
I needed to confirm the rumors circulating through the city.
Naturally.
About Demons.