In the aftermath of what had just occurred, while the adults around them looked bewildered, the two children remained composed.
Seeing the guild staff distracted and pausing in the middle of her registration, Rin urged her to continue.
At Rin's prompting, the female staff member suppressed her curiosity and resumed the unfinished work.
Soon after, Rin received her card and officially became an adventurer.
With the item in hand, she happily returned to Tris.
Together, they moved toward the quest board to find a suitable mission.
Beyond Rin's need for combat training against Magical Beasts, Tris himself wanted to test his newly completed magic on an appropriate target.
But their path was blocked by a massive adventurer. Tris quickly recognized him as one of the men he had seen days earlier, standing beside the fool whose arm had been broken.
The towering adventurer spoke:
"That man is Conal, one of my teammates. Can you tell me exactly what happened?"
His questioning tone, combined with his imposing physique, made the words sound even more threatening.
Rin frowned slightly, her posture suggesting she was ready to draw her weapon at any moment.
Tris, however, remained unfazed and replied:
"Why don't you just go ask your teammate directly?"
Glancing over, Tris saw another adventurer tending to Conal's injuries—clearly another member of the same team.
The large adventurer:
"You seem very confident in yourself, don't you?"
Tris: "I have my own matters to attend to. If you've got nothing else, don't waste my time."
His blunt response heightened the tension, and those nearby braced for a clash.
"He's in big trouble. That's Orson, the strongest C‑rank adventurer here."
"I heard he's close to becoming B‑rank."
"Really?"
"Yes. He already passed the promotion test. All he needs now is to accumulate enough quest points."
"And that kid's a Mage, right? At close range, he'd be crushed instantly."
"Does anyone even know who that boy is?"
Whispers spread among the onlookers, most predicting a grim outcome for Tris. Some even considered intervening if things escalated.
But the expected conflict never came. Orson simply gave the children one last look before walking away to join his teammates.
The crowd praised Orson's restraint, and even Tris acknowledged it.
Yet unlike the others, who admired Orson's calmness, Tris respected him for something else entirely:
'Strong, and fully composed.' That was Tris's assessment.
Relieved to avoid another foolish confrontation, Tris and Rin returned to their original purpose.
As for Orson, praised by those around him, only he knew how far from calm he truly was.
His palms were slick with sweat from tension.
Orson possessed not only strength but also a keen instinct for sensing opponents—something even his teammates were unaware of.
Moments earlier, his instincts had screamed at him when facing the black‑haired boy, especially after his final words.
It felt like standing before a dangerous predator, one losing patience and already considering where to bury your corpse.
Had he continued pressing, Orson would not have been surprised to end up with broken limbs—or worse.
'At least B‑rank strength? Just what is that kid? '
Fear gnawed at him, and he silently cursed Conal's stupidity for provoking such a monster.
The more he recalled and analyzed what had happened to Conal, the more his sweat poured.
He was certain the boy hadn't used magic. Judging by the angle of the injury, it had been a single, lightning‑fast punch.
Even Orson himself wasn't certain whether he could pull off the same feat when launching a surprise attack against someone as experienced as Conal.
And yet, that boy managed to do it with such ease that it seemed to require no effort at all.
"Damn it, I'll kill that brat," Conal muttered angrily while drinking an expensive magic potion.
Orson: "Don't throw your life away, Conal. Stay away from that kid."
His warning was stern.
Despite his reckless nature, Conal was still a capable Mage—valuable enough to be part of Orson's team.
If he were to die, finding someone of equal ability to replace him would be anything but easy.
After all, every talented Mage is a precious asset that any party would covet.
Replacing him would most likely mean poaching a member from another team—nothing but trouble and complications.
Especially with Orson being so close to achieving B‑rank, wasting time on such matters would be utterly pointless.
Hearing the warning, Conal retorted bitterly:
"So I'm just supposed to let that brat go without doing anything?"
Orson: "Breaking your arm wasn't lesson enough?"
Conal: "That was only because I wasn't prepared. With my magic, I can crush him."
He remained utterly confident in his ability.
Even so, Orson kept pressing his warnings harder against that confidence.
Orson: "You can try. But if you die, don't blame me for not helping."
"Is that kid really that strong?"
Orson's remaining teammate spoke up curiously.
It was Beck, though not outstanding in any particular field, who was a resourceful man who possessed a wide range of diverse skills.
Orson: "Strong enough that you shouldn't mess with him. And his age makes it all the more unsettling."
With his own promotion to B‑rank already within sight, Orson broke from his usual brevity and issued his warnings with unusual force.
Sensing the fear in his words, Conal grudgingly nodded, deciding to be more cautious in his pursuit of revenge.