By the time the group dragged themselves back from the swamp, mud-stained and weary, Tarni was already in the guild's common room. He was leaning against the counter, trying to charm the barkeep into giving him a meal and a drink without paying.

"Look, mate, I'm good for it," Tarni insisted, flashing his most innocent grin. "You could just run me a tab—I'll pay as soon as I've got coin in hand."

The barkeep, a broad-shouldered man named John, folded his arms across his chest. His scowl said he'd heard it all before. "Your gear's high quality, Mate. And I heard you got a lesson out of Big Jake the alchemist. Now, I know Jake. He doesn't teach anyone unless they've paid him—and not a little, either."

Tarni's stomach growled loud enough for the adventurers at a nearby table to chuckle. "That's what I'm telling you," Tarni said, indignant. "I'm good for it. I just don't have any coins with me right now."

John's expression was sliding from irritation into genuine anger when the guild's front doors creaked open. Zane and Alaric strode in, followed by their teams, boots squelching faintly from swamp muck.

Tarni's face lit up like a lantern. "Zane, mate!" he called, waving them over. "Tell me you've got some coins. Lunch is on you, yeah?"

Before Zane could open his mouth, Alaric stepped forward with a tired chuckle. "I'll cover it. Better that than watching John throttle you where you stand."

Orders were placed quickly, then Alaric walked off to hand in the quest. Raf and Vethey, joined him with their bags of frogs. Afterwards, the whole company claimed one of the long oak tables near the hearth. Platters began arriving in waves.

The food came out steaming and plentiful: great slabs of roasted boar glazed in honey and herbs, their juices soaking into thick loaves of dark bread. There were bowls of creamy potato and leek soup, fragrant with garlic and chives, alongside platters of spiced lentils, roasted carrots, and buttered greens. A basket of crusty rolls passed from hand to hand, and mugs of frothing ale and cider clinked together as stories began to flow.

The common room filled with the clatter of mugs, the tearing of bread, and the low hum of laughter. Tarni stuffed his cheeks as though he hadn't eaten in days, speaking around mouthfuls of boar about the lesson he'd managed to wring out of Jake. His eyes danced as he exaggerated just how "grudgingly impressed" the old alchemist had been.

In turn, Zane's group and Alaric's companions recounted the swamp hunt—frogs, monsters, and the near-disaster with the turtle. Groans, laughter, and incredulous stares circled the table as each tale grew just a little taller than the last.

It was midway through Bell describing the size of the monster when a shadow fell over their table. A man in the guild's green-and-gold livery cleared his throat.

"The guild-appointed scout is ready," he said with crisp efficiency. "You're expected to depart on your afternoon quest shortly."

The laughter at the table dimmed, replaced by the clink of mugs being set aside and the creak of chairs. The feast was over—for now. With every passing second, the pressure to level up before their time ran out tightened its grip.

Alaric, Raf, and Vethey thanked Zane and his group as they left the table, heading out the back of the guild hall as instructed by the guild representative. With full bellies and empty bladders, the adventurers gathered in the guild's quiet courtyard.

While they waited for the scout, the conversation naturally turned to their progress and the numbers that mattered most—XP.

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Bell was the first to speak. "From what Alaric said, we all need fourteen hundred and thirty XP to get from level eight to nine. Since we came here right after hitting eight, I'm assuming we'll need the full amount."

Tarni leaned back against the wall with a smirk. "Yeah, it's weird—they get that neat little progress bar telling them how far along they are, yet we don't."

Kai shrugged. "Probably because we're not actually part of their system."

That earned nods and murmurs of agreement all around.

Bell picked up her train of thought. "So, with the wolf quest we did for four hundred and fifty XP each, plus the swamp and potion rewards, we're sitting somewhere between six-twenty-five and six-forty each. That means we need about eight hundred and five XP each to guarantee everyone levels up."

There was a determined look on every face as the scout stepped into the courtyard. She was a short woman dressed in fitted green leather, a bow slung across her back and a long knife at her hip—the blade almost reaching past her knee.

"Good afternoon," she said, voice crisp and businesslike. "I'm Heather Broadeye. The assistant guild manager has informed me that I'm to observe you completing a ranking-up quest. Before you ask—no, I will not help. My role is simply to gauge your skills, both individually and as a team."

There were handshakes and polite greetings all around before the group set off, leaving the courtyard behind and heading in the direction Bell had been given earlier.

As they walked, Bell filled both the team and Heather in on the details. "A farmstead two hills east reported strange movements in the woods. Livestock disappearing. No tracks, no signs of a struggle. The guild didn't want to issue a quest until they had a confirmed beast type so they could assess the risk. The guild master thinks it might be a moderately high-level beast for this region. If that's the case—and we kill it—we'll get the XP from the quest."

Heather gave a curt nod. "That's also why I'm here. I can verify the beast's level, so the rewards are properly assigned once it's dealt with."

Heather was not happy. She had just returned from a mission and had been looking forward to kicking back in the guild common room—maybe even finding that handsome wizard she'd been flirting with last week. But no. The assistant guild master—because people always forgot he wasn't the real guild master, who was never around anyway—had decided she needed to babysit a bunch of weird newbies on their ranking-up quest.

She sighed to herself as she crossed the courtyard. What kind of rookies wear black leather that fine? And those weapons… Her eyes narrowed. They're not standard issue, that's for sure. At least they'd been waiting, ready to leave immediately. The quicker this was over, the quicker she could get back to her drink and her wizard.

The group set off at a brisk jog out of town, boots thudding against packed earth. Despite herself, Heather watched with a professional eye. Their formation shifted fluidly, almost unconsciously—Tarni and Zane up front, Kai lingering near Lily, Bell bringing up the rear, always in a good support position. They didn't look like amateurs.

On the road, she tested the waters. "So," Heather said, adjusting the strap of her bow, "ranking up, huh? You lot don't exactly look green. What's your story?"

"Trade secret," Tarni quipped, flashing a grin.

Heather snorted. "Cocky. Good. That'll last right up until something bites your head off."

Zane shot her a sidelong smile. "Happens more often than you'd think."

Their banter carried them over the hills until the farmland came into view. Low fences, patchy fields, and nervous-looking folk working under the hot afternoon sun. As they approached the first farmstead, Heather braced herself for the usual awkward fumbling of adventurers questioning peasants. Instead, she found herself blinking in surprise.

Bell and Kai handled the introductions smoothly, listening carefully, never talking down. Lily crouched to examine the ground, her tone light enough to ease tension even while she drew out important details. Zane—big, broad, and casually friendly—had the farmers laughing in no time, turning fear into trust.

Within half an hour, they had all the information they needed. Missing sheep. Disappearing goats. No tracks, no blood. Just a sense that something was watching from the tree line.

Heather crossed her arms, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. Huh. They actually know what they're doing. Maybe this won't be such a waste of time after all.

Still, a faint unease gnawed at the back of her mind as the group turned toward the dark smudge of forest beyond the rolling hills. The farmers had spoken of silence—birds vanishing, dogs refusing to bark, a stillness that didn't belong.

As they walked toward the trees, the laughter faded, their voices softening as if in respect—or anticipation. Heather adjusted the knife at her hip and scanned the shadows ahead.

All right, she thought, heart giving an unwelcome quick beat. Let's see if you're as good as you look.

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