"Fuuu... Haaa..."
A middle-aged man took a deep breath of the salty air in the coastal city of Alexandria, he stood before a stone wall smeared white by the excrement of the seagulls that would occasionally find rest there.
And just as he exhaled, he swirled his tongue around his mouth to rid his tastebuds of the stinging tang caused by the air he'd just greedily drawn.
[...Do we really have to do this?]
[... Was there no other way?]
He raised his large, trembling hand and coiled his fingers around the crevices of the wall to grip a single stone as he began gnashing his teeth.
Crack...
A cold sweat drenched his thick unibrow and he gradually began losing his temper, a mixture of fear and anger brewing a cocktail of depression and anxiety within his bulky chest.
[Calm down...]
Thud...
He gently rested his forehead against the crusty wall and it grounded him, allowing him to wipe the sweat off his bushy-brows.
He then turned his attention eastward, far into the horizon, where the sun was rising sluggishly as though it'd been resting in the depths of the ocean all night.
"Yo, Leader. Did ya sneak away to poop?"
Said a man suddenly, with a broad grin on his face and his posture crouched atop the stone wall.
He wore a leather armour and had two daggers sheathed horizontally on his lower back, each of their hilts facing the opposite direction, making for an easy draw when necessary.
"Haha... Yeah, you got me. I can't poop now that you're here though."
The middle-aged man below feigned a chuckle and scratched his scruffy brown-beard whilst looking up at his subordinate.
But his smile faded as soon as he turned his back and made a crude attempt at walking away — given how his movements were rather mechanical to say the least.
Perhaps he was indeed constipated?
His subordinate couldn't help but think.
[...Liar, how can you poop with all that armour?]
[...]
The man watched the iron-clad back of the leader of their party worryingly as he walked away from the alley, his silhouette being swallowed by the bright orange rays of dawn.
"Sigh... Why not just talk to us, Leader?"
A whisper escaped the man's thin, dry lips before he stood upright and made his way back to the Adventurer's Guild.
//
Loud, cheerful conversations and the clanking of wooden cups filled to the brim with alcohol polluted the guild's hall, where the Adventurers usually gathered to eat, drink and take requests.
But the noise pollution was nothing compared to the lingering, thick scent of roasted meat and spilled ale.
It would only take one glance to see that everyone present was battle-hardened, given the heavy equipment they wore and the scars that most of them bore proudly.
These were men and women who courted death on a daily basis, but it would be hard to tell given how lively and cheerful they currently were — Ah, perhaps they were like this precisely because they knew that they could die at any given moment?
One might wonder, what exactly are Adventurers?
The answer is in their name — they are extraordinary persons with capabilities far beyond what normal people can fathom, who risk their lives to explore the unknown and make new, ground breaking discoveries.
They are usually not affiliated with any nation, empire or kingdom, this allows them to roam the entire world without any restrictions.
But this is not to say that they do not take requests from governments, they are simply not limited to them. If the price is right, and the request is deemed worth it, they are willing to come to a contractual agreement with any organization.
It is also important to note that not all Adventurers have the same value, which is determined by their strength and efficiency.
For example, if one were to take a closer look at the lively Adventurer's seated and gallivanting around the hall, you would notice that each of them wore a necklace with a specific metal plate purposefully put on display.
For Adventurers, these plates were an indication of their strength, value and experience.
They are as follows:
Tin — Beginner. (F)
Copper — Novice. (E)
Iron — Apprentice. (D)
Steel — Intermediate. (C)
Silver — Advanced. (B)
Gold — Elite. (A)
Mithril — Master. (S)
Adamantite — Heroic. (SS)
And of course, simply having years of experience does not guarantee that one might acquire a higher ranking plate as there are countless veterans who still wear the steel plate.
"Man, why did we have to wake up so damn early?!"
Grumbled a handsome young man with a long mane of blond hair and hazel eyes, his body slumped over a wooden table.
He wore a light leather armour and a pair of black gloves that suggested he wielded a bow and arrow.
"Hmpf! That's what you get for drinking so much yesterday."
Scoffed a young woman who seemed to be around the man's age, she wore a long, light-brown gown and carried a wooden staff embedded with a large, glowing Mana crystal.
"So what if I drank too much? It's not my fault that you live like an old hag."
"Why don't you try living a little? People are gonna start thinking you're a damn witch."
The young man retorted and rolled his eyes, his body gradually rising from the table.
"Huh? What did you just call me, you lanky piece of shite?!"
Uwong!
As she spat those words, her Mana crystal began trembling and exuding a combination of an intense heat and light.
"That's enough. Margaret, Arthur!"
"Must you always bicker like children? Consider our reputation!"
Thud!
A man with a long beard, extremely heavy armour and a short stature intervened, ramming the hilt of his large weapon — which resembled a Warhammer, against the ground, shaking the entire hall.
[... You're the one who caused the most commotion though.]
Margaret and Arthur shared that thought, noticing that the entire mood of the hall had gone extremely sour and everyone had their eyes planted at their table.
Why?
Because everyone present in that table wore a silver plate, if Adventurers of their calibre were to go on a rampage, no one present would be able to stop them.
Step... Step...
"Oi, oi... I leave you guys for a few minutes and you're already causing a ruckus?"
Said the man who was just outside with the leader of their party as he apologized to the other Adventurers for the commotion, he too wore a silver plate.
"Ah. Hank, how'd it go with the Leader?"
Arthur settled down on his chair and inquired, his question causing Hank's expression to stiffen.
"Ugh... Don't ask, I have a migraine just thinking about it."
"Both he and the Vice Leader have been acting pretty weird as of late."
Hank replied, his hand raised to order a drink, hoping it would untie the knots in his stomach.
"...Patience, all will be revealed soon."
"They're the ones who called us here for a meeting, no?"
The short man chimed in, he was the only one who seemed rather calm, perhaps this was one of the things that came with old age?
"Look at you acting all calm, I can hear your heart beating out of that heavy ass armour."
... I suppose not.
Those words were uttered by Margaret.
"It's only natural that we're nervous. What's gonna happen to us if Leader decides to disband Soaring Boar? "
Arthur vocalized the one thing that made them all anxious.
Without their party, 'Soaring Boar' they would lose all their monetary benefits, freedom and their status as members of an A-Rank party.
But that was not all that they were scared of losing...
"... After all these years. I can't imagine myself doing this shitty job with anyone else."
"Fuck. Should I just retire?"
Margaret spoke with her voice filled with a brewing sorrow.
And just as those words escaped her lips...
Creak...
Step... Step...
A man whose figure demanded absolute respect and awe entered the hall, everyone instinctively turned their attention to him and they couldn't help but hold their breaths at his mere presence.
This man was the leader of Soaring Boar, Julius Vanger, the strongest Adventurer in Alexandria and the sole reason why his party was classified as an A - Rank party.
As he continued walking forward, the golden plate on his chest chimed and jingled, its bright glimmer demanding even more respect and awe.
Walking closely behind him was his wife, her luscious brunette hair swaying to the motion of her hips.
She wore a black and white outfit that gave the impression that she was extremely religious, and on her chest was a silver plate.
Despite the fact that she wore her usual warm smile and soft expression, her eyes were swollen as though she'd been weeping for days without end.
"Thank you all for gathering."
Julius said as he exhaled a deep breath, not even bothering to pull out a chair.
His wife's bloodshot eyes were planted on the ground with shame.
"Leader, if there's something you're not happy with just tell us."
"So please don't disba —"
Arthur sprung up from his chair and began to plead with Julius, but he was immediately cut off.
"I want you all to die with me."
[!!]
Julius made that strange, eerie requests with a straight face as though his words were natural.