The world was cruel. This was a fact that Ósma had come to terms with a long, long time ago. No matter what he did, no matter what battles he fought or what papers he signed, that inherent truth of the world could never be overcome.

And today was merely a long overdue reminder of that fact.

Palmira had been kidnapped by a Demon Lord right beneath their noses. The girl who lived in the small dorm down the hall. The girl he had taken under his wing, the girl who had already suffered so much. The girl who was now gone.

He wanted to be angry. To shout and rage at the loss of another comrade—of another child—but all he felt was tired. Tired of the blood and the death. Seventy-four years he had lived on this earth and not a year had gone by without the loss of friends and strangers alike.

It was a bone-deep exhaustion he knew well. Such was the burden that came with running an adventurers guild, the burden of fighting against the very nature of the world.

However, if Sinbad's intel was correct, then hope might not be completely lost yet. And there was a single reason for that.

Palmira had been kidnapped.

That the All-Seeing had done so was shocking. Not because it had attacked them—Lady knew they'd made themselves enough of a target this past month for a Demon Lord to turn its attention on them—but because she was still alive at all. When he first learned of it the callous part of his mind had instantly pointed out the Demon Lords did not simply kidnap people. They just killed them.

Perhaps the All-Seeing planned to corrupt her, but then why bother taking her at all? Why not simply do so from a distance, with the subtlety the monster had come to be known for? A subtlety that they now seems so willing to throw away? If it wanted a spy, why let them know so blatantly? What good was a spy they all knew to watch out for?

He was missing something. Nytheloph wanted Palmira brought to it for some reason. It wanted her alive.

Why?

He'd shared his thoughts with Dante and Rana, though neither had any ideas what the Demon might want either. It could be a trap for them, certainly, but it was too blatant. Kidnapping a child and using her as bait was the kind of ploy a common brigand might employ, not a near omnipotent Demon Lord. It had too many more options available for such a crude plot.

Or maybe they were thinking too hard on this. Revenge, a trap, something else, who knew? Maybe all three, or maybe they were all blind to the monster's true machinations.

That was the core of the issue, really. They were aware of just enough to know how little they knew.

"I know that look," Asu Rana murmured from where she was standing beside him. The moth woman laid a gentle hand against his remaining arm. "You only frown like that when you start spiraling. Calm yourself, leave your head for but a moment. She will be fine, Ósma. They all will be. You just need to have faith."

Faith was something he was in short supply of these days, but he would not speak such thoughts aloud in the presence of a priest, even one as poor as Teresa. "I know," he lied, plastering on a tight smile. "But you cannot fault me for worrying."

"We are all worried," Dante turned to give him a nod. "But we can't let that show today. You were the one who taught me that, remember? On the day you send your warriors into the field you can't look anything other than confident."

"So you were listening to my lectures," the Orc huffed at that, his smile turning just a bit more genuine. "And here I thought I was just boring you."

"Oh, you were. I'm just smart enough to pick up everything regardless."

What a little brat.

This morning the three of them had gathered outside the guildhall, ready to see their adventures off on their mission to save Palmira. They'd gone through the bare minimum of planning that they could afford and gathered everyone and everything they were willing (and in some cases not so willing) to risk, and were now prepared to send them off.

The party they had assembled now stood before the three of them. Six of their own adventures had been chosen for this mission, a combination of their best and… their not so best. But circumstances being what they were, they would have to make do.

Teresa would be heading the group, a common choice in the guild when sending out parties like this. Not simply due to her power and leadership skills but because her Holy miracles would be necessary to protect the rest of them from falling victim to the All-Seeing's corruption as well. Without her the whole venture would instantly fail and she alone had been granted the power to stop the mission whenever she felt it necessary.

Leo was next, the Green Orc one of the strongest members of their guild in terms of sheer physical might. A barbarian warrior from the northeast, he had fought through the Ashlands beyond civilization's edge before stumbling into their guild near two years ago. A taciturn man, Ósma had personally never heard him speak more than one or two words at a time. His skills at surviving in dangerous lands would be key to seeing them through this mission alive.

Charles followed, the old knight having gained a second wind following the disaster which was the All Saint's Day Tournament. He stood taller now, even if Ósma was fairly confident his waterskin was more filled with wine than water. As someone who had once lived and served throughout what were now the Demon Lands his insight and strength would ease their path through the wastelands.

That was the stronger half of the party. If it were up to him he'd be willing to send them as is and be confident that they would return alive.

Unfortunately, there were also some far too stubborn tagalongs.

Chiara had demanded to join. Dante had denied her. She had then told him she would be going regardless. This was a gross oversimplification of an argument which had lasted near twelve hours now and seemed likely to last until the girl was actively beyond the city gates.

Truthfully, he did not think it would be a bad experience for Chiara, so long as she survived. While strong and skilled for her age, she had never truly witnessed the Monsters which raged beyond the Mur Sacre. She had grown stagnant in her tiny pond and getting an injection of true fear into her ruby veins would see her stronger in the long run.

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But he agreed with the guildmaster on this. She should not go, and her stubborn refusal to acknowledge their refusal was the only reason she was standing with the others now. She was not strong enough, not skilled enough, and was not in the proper headspace for a mission like this. If she wasn't sent back within the week for endangering the rest of the party he'd genuinely be shocked.

That all said, he understood where she was coming from, truly. He had grown fond of Palmira as well. Not simply because she was one of the least problematic—well, no. She was actually fairly problematic. But not for him, and in this guild that was a rarity. She was a frustrated and desperate teenager who was somehow able to carry a human skull around without anyone questioning it, and she had grown on him like mold in the barns of his childhood.

But his desire to save her life didn't blind him to the fact he was not in a position to do so right now. Not after the injuries he'd accrued this past week and the physical trauma he was still working through because of it.

The loss of an arm wasn't career ender for even the average adventurer. If his magic didn't adapt his body for him, there were more than a few prosthetics that someone with his wealth and connections could procure.

But to go out and fight Demons like this? After more than a decade behind a desk and recently maimed beside? He'd benched stronger men for less.

So, yes he did not want Chiara to go, and the only reason he was even allowing it now was because he trusted Teresa and Charles to protect her. (And also because he was certain she would find a way to sneak out on her own and this was unfortunately the lesser evil).

Lorenzo had joined once he'd heard Chiara was going, which was just another reason they really shouldn't have let her come. Despite being generally the more reasonable of the two, he was also Palmira's friend and had made it clear enough that he was going to help save her. Ósma internally approved of his conviction even as he despaired at the fact he no longer had two hands to box the idiot's ears with. If nothing else, the boy would keep Chiara's temper in check, which was likely the best they could hope for.

The final member of their party was the newest member of the guild, Catherina the war priestess, having signed up literally an hour ago. She had asked to join when she had heard what had happened and realized that Lorenzo was going as well. And while they certainly could have refused her, well…

It was callous to say, but if she died they would lose nothing. They had no economic nor emotional investment in the young woman. She was skilled enough to beat an exhausted Matthias in a fight and wielded Holy miracles, something which certainly wouldn't go amiss on this mission. And that was about the extent of their reasoning. If she died, it was a shame but oh well. If she survived? Great, she'd proven herself to the guild!

Dante clearly felt really bad about the whole thing, but he'd decided for himself that the more hands available to protect his little sister the better. He probably would have sent the whole guild if such an act wouldn't have bankrupted them.

"Guildmaster," Teresa walked up to them, nodding her head respectfully. "We're about ready to leave if you are."

"Not quite," Dante shook his head. "We're still waiting on one last person before I send you off."

"Wait, we are? Who—"

They heard it before they saw it. A distant rumble like the pounding of many feet, before a bed of thorns the size of a building burst around the street corner and stampeded up to their group.

"Dante!" the rose nymph riding atop it shouted in bombastic rage, ignoring how the startled adventurers nearly attacked her in shock. "You'd better not be leaving without me, you hear!?"

"We were waiting on her," he sighed before turning to the rest of them. "Firozzi adventurers, you likely remember this woman as Spinosa, representative of the Fiori Guild from Pedemoa. The Fiori are one of our close allies, and as such she has offered her services to join us on this mission free of charge. As your guildmaster I order you to get along well with her to make sure you all come back home alive, understood?"

"Thank the Goddess I wasn't late," the aforementioned Fiori adventurer deflated, slumping against the thorny vines surrounding her in a way that would have drawn blood from anyone else. "I was like, so angry when I heard the news, I could barely sleep! And then I got so busy packing that I… well, it doesn't matter now! How long before we head out? I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself back!"

Ósma held back a sigh at the sight. And then held back a second one when he noticed how Chiara was already glaring at the woman. Certainly, her help would be a massive boon, but nymphs tended to be… flighty, even at the best of times. He worried she might harm as much as help them.

But he supposed they had already agreed to let the new girl join, so what was one more oddball?

"We were just about ready to leave," Dante reassured her. "Now that you're here we're almost good to go."

"…You weren't only waiting on me, right—?"

"Anyway," he cut her off, turning back to the rest of their group. "Firozzi adventurers! Over the past few months, much has changed for us. Our guild has shrunk and grown, suffered and succeeded! Today we are somehow stronger than we've ever been before! But in doing so we've made enemies! A Demon Lord has had the gall to kidnap one of our own from our very fucking doorstep! This, obviously, cannot stand!"

Chiara broke from her glaring to roar in agreement with that, Leo joining a beat after. The others simply stood by stoically, their resolve hardening… except the new girl, who stood more awkwardly than anything.

"Thanks to the help of the Paladin himself, we know where Palmira has been taken. The city of Lumiere, the heart of Nytheloph's power in the heart of the Demon Lands! This is an incredibly dangerous mission, one where the potential for death is very high. If any of you want to back out now, know that such a decision is to be respected and that nobody here will judge you for it," he looked specifically at his sister as he said that, but the girl only turned up her nose in defiance.

"Right…" he sighed, glaring at her but continuing undaunted. "Anyway, the plan is simple. The seven of you will ride with Spinosa to the border of Opida, where you'll be allowed through the Mur Sacre and out into the Demon Lands, beyond which you will further head directly for Lumiere. You will not take any side quests, you will not allow yourself any distractions, and if any of you are injured you will be returned to civilization to be healed immediately, am I understood? This is not only for your own safety, but also because we do not know how much time we have before Palmira is lost to us for good. So move swiftly, safely, and with purpose, or else risk everything we are fighting for to be for nothing!"

Ósma took that opportunity to step up, pulling two spools of silver thread from his pocket as he did. "I have something for you all, to make sure you will not be going in blindly," he told them gruffly, handing one off to Teresa and the other off to Charles. "These threads will be your guides on this journey. One will always lead to Palmira, no matter where she might be. The other will always lead back to civilization, in case you are ever lost beyond the blackstone wall. Do not loose either, as I will not be around to replace them."

"I'll keep them safe, Ósma," Teresa nodded firmly. "On my Oath as a Crusader, I swear I will see Palmira returned to us."

"Unlike her, I don't have any more fancy oaths to offer up these days," Charles took his own with a scoff. "But this isn't the first young lady I've had to save from a monster, and I doubt it'll be the last. I'll bring her home alone if I have to."

"Alone?" Teresa raised an amused eyebrow at him. "You act as though you won't be the first to keel over out there."

"Keel—excuse you!? I may be past my prime but not even a Demon Lord would ever be able to take me down!"

"Who said anything about a Demon? I was talking about old age, you bloody geriatric."

"Hah! You think I'm scared of the reaper? I've been fighting the bastard off for decades now, I'll outlive you all yet!"

Ósma rolled his eyes at the byplay as he stepped back to the others. How these idiots always found time to bicker was beyond him.

"See?" Rana chittered at him with amusement. "I told you, they'll be fine."

The old Orc simply hummed, watching the group make their final preparations before leaving.

Anima and Jeanne had come out at the last second to say their 'see-you-later's to Teresa and Charles respectively. The former offered Teresa a white cloth, wrapping it around her wrist in an act that forced him to look away lest he feel like he was intruding. The later cheerfully offered Charles an extra backpack filled with the brand of field rations they all knew he hated with a burning passion. Then she went over and gave Lorenzo a hug that lasted just a little too long before darting back inside to avoid the glares of the other two girls with him.

The sight brought a smile to his lips, even as the next words killed it just as easily.

"Of course they will be," he sighed softly. "It's not them I'm worried about."

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