The Guild Hall buzzed with life like never before, yet for Sage, it felt strangely quiet. He strolled across the marble floor, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his boots echoing in a slow, unhurried rhythm.
Around him, the Guild pulsed like a living entity. Adventurers gathered in loose clusters, their voices overlapping in lively discussions. The faint clinking of metal and the creaking of leather filled the air. Near the training ground entrance, laughter erupted suddenly, followed by the dull thud of someone hitting the padded ground.
At the bar counter, a small crowd had formed once again, as if sheer will could summon wine from empty shelves.
And yet, none of this reached Sage. His gaze skimmed over everything without truly focusing on anything; his mind was elsewhere, spiraling inward rather than outward.
