Xavier slipped the crimson‑sealed parchment into his pocket, the weight of the A‑rank goblin quest resting against him like a silent challenge. The guild hall behind him carried on without notice—no whispers, no stares, no one caring what mission he had chosen. That indifference was almost worse than mockery. His stride remained steady as he moved for the heavy doors, cloak brushing against the stone floor. Aria followed close, her silver hair catching the lantern light, her presence sharp and commanding, like a blade unsheathed.
"I need to leave for the place now," he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. He was already scanning the street for a carriage when a voice cut through the evening air.
"Excuse me, sir."
Xavier stopped, turning sharply. Two figures stood behind him.
