The guild doors slammed open. Six bodies dragged across the polished floor behind him, bound and unconscious, their limbs tied tight with coarse rope, the chatter inside the Elfien Adventurers' Guild, more akin to a grand tavern than a place of work, died almost instantly.
The scent of smoked beef and lamb still lingered in the air, mixed with alcohol and steel, but now the silence cut through the air, boots thudded heavily against wood as the man stepped forward, armor clinking, a sword tapping faintly against his side with every movement.
Dark circles hung beneath his tired eyes. His pale, dark skin contrasted with the black hair falling messily over his face. Then someone whispered, "…That's the Thorn Thieves."
More voices followed, hushed but sharp with disbelief. "All six of them…?" "In a week?"
"…That human got them?"
He dragged the bodies all the way to the counter and let them drop in a dull heap before finally lifting his head.
The Elfien Adventurers' Guild, located in the capital of the elven race, one of the three great superpowers of Ysstrill, alongside the lands of dragons and men, was not a place easily silenced.
And yet, he had done just that.
Pointy-eared adventurers in finely crafted armor stared openly now, their earlier conversations forgotten as their eyes followed his every movement. "It's that human again…"
"I heard he just started last year…"
"They say he's already Platinum rank, just two tiers below Rose Gold…"
The whispers circled the hall like a rising current. He ignored all of it.
Clearing his throat softly, he reached to his waist and pulled out a stack of worn fliers, wanted posters. One by one, he spread them across the counter, each face matching the men lying at his feet.
Each worth 500 Suuns.
"These are them, correct?" he asked, his voice low, tired. The barmaid took a moment before nodding, her eyes flicking between the posters and the men on the floor.
"Yes, Adventurer Isaac," she said, a hint of disbelief still in her voice. "These are indeed the Thorn Thieves. All of them. She let out a small breath, "we truly didn't expect you back so soon. We assumed this would take at least another two weeks…"
She crouched behind the counter and pulled out three heavy pouches, placing them down with a soft clink. "We only have 900 Suuns available at the moment. The remaining 2,100 will be ready for collection next week."
Issac didn't hesitate.
He reached forward, took the pouches, and gave a small nod. "That's fine."
"Thank you," he added quietly, already turning away, and just like that, he was done, he could finally go home and get some much needed rest, he yawned as he begun to walk away, the barmaid looked star struck as she just stared at him with a child like smile on her face.
A group of five stepped forward, armor scratched, clothes slightly torn, the smell of dungeon and goblin blood air still clinging to them. "Oh, um…" the barmaid hesitated, her earlier confidence slipping. "I'm sorry Red Clad party but we've run out of Suuns for today. Please come back tomorrow and we'll have your 200 ready."
"What?" the red-haired girl at the front snapped, her brows furrowed sharply as she stepped closer, "That's minoshit (minotaur), right?" she said, her voice rising. "You just handed that guy three full pouches."
The barmaid shifted uncomfortably.
"Yes, but, those were our remaining funds. We truly didn't expect him to return so quickly. I assure you, Miss Vio, your reward will"
"That's not the point," Vio cut in.
Her irritation was already boiling over.
"We cleared that dungeon too. We risked our lives too. So why does he get everything while we walk away with nothing?"
Her eyes flicked past the barmaid, locking onto Isaac's back as he walked toward the exit.
after a long pause, she turned fully and marched after him, "Vio, wait," one of her teammates muttered. "Don't start–"Too late, she was already there, in his personal space, "you." Her voice cut through the air.
Isaac stopped, slowly, he turned his head, up close, the exhaustion in his eyes was even clearer. "What gives you the right," Vio continued, stepping closer, "to take all that money without leaving anything for the rest of us?" no response.
"I knew it," she scoffed. "Humans are all the same. Greedy. Selfish. Leeches who only think about themsel –" a soft clink, her words died in her throat, Isaac had already walked back to the counter.
Without looking at her even uttering a single word, he placed one of the pouches down, and slid it toward the barmaid, the room went quiet again. He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting Vio's for just a moment then he turned away and walked out.
"Thank you, Adventurer Issac," the barmaid said, her voice softer now. "That was very kind of you."
The door shut behind him, he didn't have the time to argue with Vio, he was too tired for her usual hot headed behaviour, he hadn't slept in days hunting down the Thorn Thieves.
Vio stood there, staring at the pouch on the counter, her jaw tightened slightly before she clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.
"Yeah," she muttered. "Thanks, I guess." But her voice didn't carry the same bite as before.
Issac stepped out into the streets of Elfien, the noise of the guild fading behind him as the door shut, the capital of the elven race stretched wide and orderly, its beauty undeniable even in its lowest districts.
This part of the city – where Isaac walked –was considered the poorest, though, by elven standards, "poor" was a relative term, clean stone roads still lined the streets, the scent of food drifted from open stalls, laughter and trade carried on as usual.
But the difference was there, if you looked closely, this was where the unwanted gathered, humans, refugees and the occasional beastman, those who didn't quite belong anywhere.
Isaac walked past it all without slowing, above them, visible even from here, stood the higher levels of the kingdom – separated by a massive wall that cut across the skyline.
Beyond that wall lived the middle class, and beyond that, much higher still, the nobles and the royal family, the true heart of Elfien, Isaac had no place there anymore, so he kept walking.
###
The world had not always been at peace, for centuries, the three great powers – elves, humans, and the great dragons – had warred endlessly, each vying for dominance.
Peace only came when something worse appeared, the Monster Realm, led by the Demon King, Vier IV.
It was said that even the strongest armies fell before him, that even kings bowed or perished.
In the end, it wasn't one kingdom that stopped him, but all three, united together
they defeated the Demon King, and they sealed his armies away with the monsters, but the seal was imperfect.
Cracks formed over time, rifts and dungeons, and from those dungeons, monsters still crawled into the world, that was why adventurers existed, not for the glory of the fame, but to keep those cracks from becoming something far worse.
###
By the time Isaac reached the outer gate, the city had already begun to thin behind him, w massive wooden structure stretched across the river that surrounded Elfien, marking the boundary between the kingdom, and everything beyond it.
He crossed without stopping, on the other side, the world felt quieter, short walk later, the outskirts came into view, a small village, barely held together by time and necessity.
Refugees lived here, people who had nowhere else to go, humans, beastmen even the demon kind, no one asked too many questions, and no one judged too loudly or at all, because everyone here had a past they were running from or a system they were looking to escape.
The houses were simple – stone walls, wooden doors, names carved into small plaques, a well stood at the center, a small library sat near the edge, and right beside it, a small clinic, that's where Isaac lived.
He slowed slightly as he approached, he was tired but he still walked around the village, greeting the people, kids ran up to him, "Adventurer Isaac is back!" As they hugged him, and their parents from a distance watching with a smile.
He was somewhat of a village hero, chasing out the occasional bandits that would try to take advantage of the village and it's people, he walked through, putting on his best smile even with fatigue slowing him.
He walked towards the front door and opened, inside, there was a woman, Dalih, an elven healer who ran the clinic, she was beautiful, calm and unshakable, he had been with him for years now, back when he was still someone else, before the quiet life and before exile.
Back when he lived in a palace, surrounded by siblings, by power, by a name that still followed him, no matter how far he walked from it. Isaac exhaled and stopped, a bird flew out through the open window.
Small and fast, familiar. Isaac's eyes narrowed slightly. "…No way." Inside, Dalih sat by the round wooden table, a piece of paper in her hands. A broom leaned against the wall beside her – her work clearly interrupted.
She turned at the sound of him entering, her green-blue eyes met his, her ears twitched slightly, then she looked away. "…What does it say?" Isaac asked, stepping inside. "Who's it from?"
A pause, Dalih hesitated then sighed. "It's from your elder sister." Isaac didn't stop walking. "Then burn it." His voice was flat and Immediate. "Princess Frion," she added quietly. That made him pause, just slightly, but enough.
He moved past her anyway, sitting down on the bed, he began removing his armor,
"I don't care, it changes nothing." Dalih watched him for a moment, "…You might want to." Silence stretched between them.
Isaac frowned faintly and looked up, she didn't insist unless it mattered. "…What is it?" Dalih tightened her grip on the letter.
"She's been crowned Queen." That landed, but not as hard as what came next. "And…"
A brief hesitation, "she wants you to come back."