The hover-bike's engine hummed beneath Kaelen as he guided it through the outer checkpoint of Veyra Enclave. The transition from the Scourged Zone's wild terrain to the structured pathways leading to the city was jarring. A chaotic wilderness giving way to ordered civilization in the span of a few hundred meters.
He was coated head-to-toe in dried black blood.
The Wire Weaver blood had congealed into a rigid shell during his journey back, cracking with each movement like old leather. It covered his face, his hair, his clothes. He was barely recognizable beneath the layers of arterial spray. The smell was overwhelming, sweet and rotten simultaneously, with an acrid chemical undertone that burned the nostrils.
As he approached the enclave's outer perimeter, the checkpoint sensors scanned him automatically. A barrier shimmered briefly before allowing him passage. Beyond it, the paths grew more populated. Other adventurers were visible now, some heading out for their own hunts, others returning with their spoils loaded onto freight vehicles.
The stares started immediately.
An adventurer in clean combat gear leading a hover-cart loaded with F-rank crystals did a double-take, his conversation with his partner died mid-sentence. A woman in reinforced armor stopped walking entirely, her expression cycling from curiosity to visible disgust.
Kaelen kept his eyes forward, he was too exhausted to care about the attention. All he wanted was to finish the administrative requirements and find somewhere quiet to collapse.
The rental shop came into view, a modest building near the base's eastern quarter, its sign identifying it as "Meridian Rentals." Through the transparent storefront, Kaelen could see other customers browsing available vehicles.
He pulled up to the return area and dismounted. His joints protested. The dried blood on his cloth cracked audibly as he straightened.
Inside the shop, a young man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the door chime. His smile faltered the moment his eyes found Kaelen.
"Sir, I..." The receptionist's gaze traveled from Kaelen's blood-caked face down to his stiff, stained boots. "Is that... blood?"
Kaelen's voice came out flat, irritation bleeding through despite his exhaustion. "As you can see, it's black. The only black blood an adventurer will have on them is arthropod beast blood. Yes, it is."
The receptionist swallowed, his professionalism warring with barely concealed revulsion. He stood slowly, moving around the counter with visible reluctance. "I'll need to... inspect the vehicle."
Other customers in the shop had noticed Kaelen now. A pair of adventurers examining hover-bike models pressed themselves against the far wall, giving him space. An elderly woman near the accessories display wrinkled her nose and turned away entirely.
The receptionist circled the returned bike, his inspection in order despite his discomfort. He checked the engine housing, the control interface, the structural integrity of the frame. Black blood had spattered across the vehicle's surface, dried droplets on the handlebars, smears across the seat, congealed pools in the footwell.
"No structural damage," the receptionist said finally, relief evident in his voice. Then his expression shifted to something more uncomfortable. "But... this will require deep cleaning. Sterilization. The smell alone..." He trailed off, clearly not wanting to elaborate.
He pulled up a holographic interface from his wristband, fingers moving quickly through menus. "Standard cleaning fee for biological contamination: five hundred credits."
Kaelen wanted to argue. The rental agreement hadn't mentioned anything about cleaning fees for undamaged returns. But exhaustion made the fight seem pointless. He raised his own wristband, authorizing the payment transfer.
"Transaction complete," the receptionist said quickly, already stepping back toward his counter. "Return registered. You're... you're all set, sir."
The dismissal was clear. The young man wanted Kaelen gone, wanted the source of the smell and the stares out of his shop.
Kaelen turned toward the exit. As he passed the other customers, someone muttered just loud enough to be heard: "What kind of hunt leaves you looking like that?"
He didn't answer. The door chime sounded behind him as he stepped back into the eveningn air.
...
The mission terminal was located in the base's central hub, a large, open area where adventurers gathered to accept contracts, trade materials, and coordinate expeditions. Holographic displays lined the walls, showing available missions organized by rank and location. The space hummed with activity: conversations overlapping, and equipment clinking.
Kaelen approached the same terminal he'd used that morning. The holographic interface recognized his wristband, pulling up his registered missions and current status.
The area around him emptied.
Other adventurers noticed his approach and shifted away instinctively, creating a buffer zone of several meters. Conversations paused mid-sentence. Eyes tracked his movement with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright disgust.
Kaelen ignored them, focusing on the interface. He navigated to mission completion, selected the Lesser Wire Weaver contract, and initiated the submission sequence.
The screen flashed red.
[MISSION COMPLETION MUST BE VERIFIED AT REGISTERED GUILD]
[TERMINAL ACCESS: MISSION ACCEPTANCE ONLY]
[PLEASE REPORT TO A GUILD FOR VERIFICATION]
Kaelen stared at the message, his exhausted mind taking longer than usual to process the information. Of course. Completion required physical verification of materials and conditions. The terminal was just for initial contract acceptance.
"You were just here this morning."
The voice came from his left. Kaelen turned to find the same administrator he'd spoken to earlier, the woman in her forties who'd processed his initial registration. She stood at arm's length, her expression carrying recognition mixed with visible shock.
Her eyes tracked the blood coating that obscured his features. "That's..." She paused, clearly trying to maintain professionalism. "Terminal is for mission acceptance only. Completion verification requires guild inspection."
"Understood," Kaelen said simply.
The administrator nodded, but her expression remained troubled. As Kaelen turned to leave, she called out: "Sir?"
He paused.
"Perhaps you should clean up first?" The suggestion was gentle but pointed. "Before heading to the guild?"
Kaelen's reply was immediate and flat. "That's for later."
The administrator nodded slowly, though her concern didn't fade. She watched him walk away, her hand hovering near her communication device as if considering whether to alert someone.
Around the terminal area, other adventurers whispered:
"Just how many beasts did he fight?"
"Alone? No way he went alone..."
"Maybe he's a high ranker?"
He headed for the transit station.
...
The transit station serving the base was moderately crowded, afternoon to evening traffic as workers changed shifts and civilians moved between tiers. The automated car sat at the platform, its doors open, passengers filing in through the standard security checkpoints.
Kaelen entered through the automated doors. His wristband was scanned, payment deducted.
A woman carrying shopping bags gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth as she stepped backward. A businessman in a clean suit pressed himself against the opposite wall, his briefcase held defensively across his chest. Two teenagers stopped their conversation mid-sentence, staring openly.
The car wasn't full, several seats remained available. But space cleared around Kaelen anyway as he moved toward the center aisle. He gripped the overhead rail, his blood-stiffened sleeve cracking with the movement. Black flakes drifted to the floor.
The doors closed as the car began its ascent.
Transit through Veyra's tiers was slow on local lines, multiple stops, automated announcements, the steady climb from lower to upper districts. Each stop brought new passengers and new reactions.
At the eighth tier platform, an elderly couple waited to board. The doors opened. As they saw Kaelen, the man's expression hardened. He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and guided her toward the next car down the platform.
At the seventh tier, a group of three workers entered despite the available space, but they clustered as far from Kaelen as the car's dimensions allowed. One kept glancing at him nervously, then looking away when Kaelen's attention shifted in his direction.
A mother whispered to her child: "Don't stare, dear. Face forward."
Two workers spoke in low voices: "An adventurer, has to be."
An elderly man near the front spoke loudly enough to be clearly heard: "In my day, adventurers cleaned up before entering public spaces."
Kaelen's internal state was distant, muted. Exhaustion had stripped away most of his capacity for emotional reaction. He was aware of the stares, the whispers, the way people avoided him, but it felt abstract, happening to someone else.
His reflection in the window was barely recognizable. The dried black blood obscured his features entirely, leaving only the vague shape of a human form. He could have been anyone beneath the coating. The thought was oddly comforting.
He counted stops internally. Seventh tier... almost there. Just one more tier.
The car's automated voice announced: "Sixth tier, eastern district. Doors opening."
Kaelen moved toward the exit. The other passengers shifted to give him a wider path than necessary. Someone muttered something about "finally" as he stepped onto the platform.
Behind him, as the doors closed, he heard someone opening windows despite the altitude chill.
...
The sixth tier was noticeably different from the lower districts.
Kaelen stood out even more dramatically in this environment.
Pedestrians gave him wider space here than they had in the lower tier. Some crossed the street entirely rather than pass him on the same sidewalk. A woman with a small dog picked up the animal and carried it when Kaelen approached, as if proximity alone might be dangerous.
The main entrance to the Ash Guild was as impressive as always. Tall doors of some dark metal, etched with the guild's symbol, a stylized blade crossed with an aether crystal. Guards stood on either side. They gave Kaelen weird stares as he approached, but didn't move to intercept.
Kaelen pushed through the door.
The lobby was organized and clean. Dark wooden reception desk, comfortable waiting chairs arranged in neat rows, mission boards mounted on walls displaying available contracts. Several adventurers occupied the space, some reviewing missions, others engaged in quiet conversations.
All of them turned to look as he entered.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence. One adventurer's hand moved instinctively toward the weapon at his hip before he caught himself. A woman near the mission boards took two steps backward, her expression shifting from curiosity to alarm.
The receptionist at the desk stood quickly, professional instinct overriding shock. It was May, the same woman who'd registered him and Lira the previous day. Her expression cycled rapidly: recognition, concern, disbelief.
"Kaelen Burn?" Her voice carried both confirmation and question, as if she couldn't quite believe the blood-covered figure was the same person she'd processed less than twenty-four hours ago.
Kaelen was visibly surprised she recognized him through the coating. They attended to dozens of adventurers daily. He was F-rank. She shouldn't remember him this clearly.
May's eyes scanned him: "You were just here yesterday."
Her voice shifted, concern overtaking professionalism: "Where's Miss Lira? Are you injured? Do you need medical—"
Kaelen's voice cut through her questions, tired but steady: "Reporting mission completion. F-rank Lesser Wire Weaver hunt."
May's surprise was immediate. "You took that this morning? The listing was for a team."
Her hands were already moving, pulling up records on her terminal with efficient keystrokes. The holographic interface bloomed above her desk, displaying his registration details and the accepted mission parameters.
"Sir, you're..." She paused, searching for diplomatic phrasing. "You're covered in blood. What happened out there?"
"Fourteen Wire Weavers," Kaelen said simply. "Nest situation."
May's eyes widened. "Fourteen?" She glanced at her screen, verifying something. "Well, it makes sense since it's an eradication mission, but..."
She pulled up the mission details completely now, her expression growing more troubled. "You went alone? Into a nest?"
"Didn't know it was a nest until I found it."
"It was a culling mission. Even if it was F-ranked, it's necessary to have teams." Her concern was genuine now, professional detachment giving way to real worry. "Where is Miss Lira?"
"Different mission."
May could only sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly in exasperation and relief.
Around the lobby, hushed conversations had started:
"Wire Weaver nest? Solo?"
"Does he have a death wish?"
"Might he be a high ranker?"
One older adventurer: grizzled, with visible scars crossing his weathered face, nodded with something that looked like respect. He'd seen enough hunts to recognize what fourteen kills meant, even for F-ranks.
May called toward the back rooms: "I need an appraiser out here, please."
Kaelen's visible curiosity prompted the question: "Why aren't you doing it yourself?"
May smiled...a small, professional expression that softened her earlier concern. "Your transaction yesterday wasn't much, and since I registered you, it would have been easier that way. But this is a mission. We need someone to inspect materials and confirm the completion."
"Oh," Kaelen said simply.
"You have proof of kill with you?"
Kaelen activated his Oblivion Pouch, pulling out the stored materials: F-rank crystals, silk glands, chitin plates. "Crystals, silk glands, and some chitin plates. Couldn't carry more."
May's concern deepened. "Also... no offense, but you really should clean up before—"
"I need to finish this," Kaelen interrupted, polite but firm. "Then I'll rest."
May nodded slowly, accepting the response even if she didn't entirely agree with it. She gestured toward the waiting area. "The appraiser will be here shortly. Please, have a seat."
Then she noticed the way other adventurers were pressed against the far walls, the distance they maintained. Her expression shifted slightly.
"Actually..." She glanced toward a hallway leading deeper into the building. "There's a private verification room. Might be more comfortable."
To another staff member passing nearby: "Get him water. And maybe a towel."
Kaelen muttered under his breath as he followed May toward the private room: "Lira's going to kill me if she knows about this.''
...
Earlier in the morning.
The Ash Guild's lobby was quieter in the early morning—fewer adventurers, less noise. Lira had arrived deliberately early, hoping to catch Kaelen if he decided to take a mission today.
He hadn't shown up yet.
She'd been checking the mission boards for the past twenty minutes.
The mission board's holographic interface cycled through available contracts. Most were standard fare, material gathering, perimeter patrols, escort duties. Nothing particularly interesting.
Then one posting caught her attention:
SCOURGE WOLF MATERIALS COLLECTION]
[Rank]: F
[Location]: Northwestern Scourged Zone, Safe Zone, 11km from enclave perimeter
[Reward]: Payment based on materials collected. Scourge Wolf components only.
[Requirements]: Minimum 2 adventurers, F-rank and above
[Threat Assessment]: F-rank—E-rank. Scourge Wolves travel in packs and demonstrate coordinated hunting behavior.
Lira studied the details. The mission was appropriate for her cultivation level. Adept Basic Control put her combat capability somewhere around E-rank, though her adventurer registration was still F-rank. The northwestern zone was relatively well-traveled, with established safe routes and regular patrol coverage.
The credits would help, but that wasn't her primary motivation. She needed something to do and getting her adventurer rank up before resuming was best.
She checked her wristband. No messages from him since yesterday evening.
"Lira!"
The voice came from across the lobby. Lira turned to see Jay approaching, someone she'd known since her scavenging days, before either of them had become adventurers. They'd kept in touch through the transition, occasionally running missions together when their schedules aligned.
Jay was shorter than Lira by a few inches, with brown hair tied back in a ponytail and green eyes that carried amusement. Her build was athletic but curvy, she complained constantly about armor fit, particularly chest plates. An earth-user Mage, recently ranked up to E, she specialized in terrain manipulation and defensive constructs.
"You're here early," Jay said, her tone carrying gentle teasing. "Couldn't sleep, or just eager to make credits?"
"Couldn't sleep," Lira admitted. No point lying to someone who knew her this well.
Jay's expression shifted to something more knowing. "Kaelen?"
"It's not always about him, you know." Lira gestured to the mission board.
Jay laughed, bright and genuine. "Well... It's about him most of the time. Just confess your feelings to him already."
Lira sighed. "He's a younger brother to me."
"Sure~" Jay moved closer, examining the mission Lira had been studying. "Scourge Wolves? Boring, but safe. Are you thinking of taking it?"
"Need a partner. Interested?"
Jay grinned. "When have I ever turned down the chance to keep you from spiraling into worry?"
They approached the reception desk together. A young receptionist processed their information.
"Scourge Wolf, northwestern zone," he confirmed, reviewing their details. " They travel in packs, and they're smart. Don't engage more than you can handle."
"Understood," Lira said.
The registration was completed with efficiency: wristband scans, mission parameters confirmed, emergency beacon protocols verified.l
"Be careful out there," he said as they turned to leave.
Outside the guild, Jay fell into step beside Lira.
"You're wound tight today."
"Just being careful."
"You're always careful. This is different." Jay's tone was gentle but perceptive. "When was the last time you actually relaxed?"
Lira didn't answer. The question was fair, but she didn't have a good response that wouldn't sound like an excuse.
They headed for the transit station, bound for the ninth tier where the base was located. The morning transit was crowded but manageable, workers heading to various districts, some students traveling to schools.
The transit car descended through the tiers, automated announcements marking each stop. By the time they reached the ninth tier, the crowd had thinned significantly, fewer people traveled to the base districts unless they had specific business there.
The northwestern base was smaller than some of the others.
Lira and Jay rented a hover-bike together. A standard two-seat model. The rental process was quick.
At the gate checkpoint, they presented their badges for scanning. The security officer—a woman in reinforced armor, examined their information briefly before nodding approval.
The checkpoint barrier shimmered and parted. Beyond it, the Scourged Zone stretched endlessly—twisted terrain, bioluminescent vegetation, and the ever-present sense of danger that defined life beyond the enclaves.
Jay gunned the hover-bike's engine. "Ready?"
Lira settled into the passenger seat, checking her equipment one final time. "Ready."
They accelerated through the gate, leaving the enclave's safety behind.