The soldier's voice cuts through the noise like a knife. "You three! Hold up!"
I freeze, heart thumping as if it's trying to escape my chest. The world narrows, and I can feel the weight of their gaze pressing down on us. I glance at Tam and Mira—fear flickers in their eyes.
"Great, just what we need," I mutter under my breath. "More unwanted attention."
As the soldiers approach, I notice one of them squinting at Tam's wrist—the G-Rank bracelet glinting like a beacon of shame against the gleaming armor of the guards. My stomach drops; if they see that rank, there's no telling how this will play out.
"Hey, you!" the guard barks, pointing a finger at Tam. "What's your rank?"
"Uh—G-Rank," Tam stutters, glancing nervously between me and Mira.
The guard snorts derisively. "Figures. What are you doing here?"
"We were just—" I start to explain, but before I can finish, a familiar voice interrupts from behind us.
"Well, well! Look who we have here!"
I turn to see Seraphina Ashworth stepping forward with an air of confidence that practically radiates superiority. Her auburn hair catches the light as she walks closer, her elegant gown trailing behind her like a banner of entitlement.
"What a delightful surprise to find you all in such… interesting company." She glances between us with that familiar smirk—the one that says she knows exactly how much power she wields in this situation.
"What are you doing here?" I ask incredulously, irritation bubbling beneath my skin.
"I could ask you the same," she replies smoothly, her eyes narrowing as she focuses on Tam's bracelet again. "But I suspect your G-Rank status explains it quite well."
Tam shifts uncomfortably beside me while Mira shoots me a glance filled with both annoyance and disbelief.
"Is there any reason you're bothering us?" Mira snaps at Seraphina, arms crossed defiantly.
"Oh darling," she replies sweetly but mockingly, "it seems rather rude for you to be asking questions when I am the one holding all the cards here." She gestures toward the guards flanking her—a silent reminder of their presence.
* * *
"Anyhow, why do you want to join the caravan to the north, Kiriti?" Seraphina's voice cuts through the air, smooth as silk but laced with a challenge. Her gaze pierces me, expecting a clever answer that matches her noble bearing.
I glance at Tam and Mira, who stand just behind me, uncertainty mingling with curiosity in their eyes.
I can almost hear them holding their breath.
They expect me to come up with something witty—something that will keep us from being tossed back into the depths of the dungeon.
"Why not?" I say, letting my confidence swell as I lean into my intelligence stat like it's a warm blanket.
"The north is ripe with opportunity. I hear there are fewer eyes watching and more chances for... how shall we say it? Character growth."
Seraphina arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Character growth? Or are you merely seeking to escape scrutiny?"
I match her gaze, refusing to flinch. "Call it a little of both," I reply with a smirk. "But mostly, I want to avoid being part of your royal cleanup crew in case this whole place collapses under its own arrogance."
Her lips twitch—just barely—and I know I've struck a nerve. She studies me for a moment longer, weighing my words like they're currency.
"If you want to join the caravan," she says slowly, "you'll need more than just a pretty face and an inflated sense of importance."
I take a step closer, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret with her alone. "Oh, don't worry about that; I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve."
The flicker of interest in her eyes gives me courage. "You see—unlike G-Rankers—B-Rankers like myself possess something invaluable: strategic thinking."
She pauses again before speaking. "And what makes you think this caravan would accept someone like you?"
I let my grin widen as realization dawns on me—I'm not just selling myself; I'm leveraging our shared circumstances.
"I've got experience from the Training Grounds," I say confidently. "If you're looking for guards to keep your precious cargo safe from whatever lurks in those northern forests—why not enlist someone who's survived dungeons designed to weed out the weak?"
Seraphina's expression shifts, her skepticism mingling with curiosity. "Survived? And what makes you think that qualifies you?"
"Let's see," I say, holding up my wrist and letting my bracelet shimmer in the light. "I've taken down two E-Rank warlords, remember? Not to mention a couple of goblins who thought they could snack on me and my friends."
The air thickens as I watch her process this information. She opens her mouth to respond but then pauses, clearly calculating how to pivot the conversation.
"Impressive," she finally concedes, though there's a hint of disbelief lingering in her tone. "But do you think your past victories will carry weight against true threats?"
"I think it makes me indispensable," I counter swiftly, leaning further into the role of clever protagonist—a scriptwriter's dream of redemption waiting to unfold.
Seraphina's lips curl slightly at my confidence; perhaps she admires it—or maybe she simply enjoys challenging it. Either way, it works in my favor.
"Fine," she relents after what feels like an eternity spent weighing her options. "You may join us—but only as temporary security detail." Her voice turns sharper now—a hint of warning woven within her acceptance.
"Great! What do we get paid?" Tam asks eagerly beside me; his excitement bubbling over like soda shaken too hard.
Seraphina narrows her eyes at him but responds coolly enough: "We'll discuss compensation once we reach our destination."
I nod appreciatively; anything beats facing down another dungeon solo again! Plus—being part of this caravan could open doors to more opportunities.
"So we're all in?" Tam beams at us both while Mira still looks skeptical but resigned to our fates.
"Yes!" I declare dramatically with flair that could earn applause on any stage.
And just like that, we're entangled in this web spun by Seraphina—a journey beckoning forth across untold paths filled with danger and potential—a chapter unwritten but already thrillingly alive!
As we begin making our way toward the North Gate where caravans gather for departure, a thought crosses my mind: wasn't Seraphina a count's daughter? Why is she doing the security detail and all this stuff?
"Hey, Seraphina," I call out casually, trying to sound nonchalant despite the gnawing curiosity. "Shouldn't you be lounging in a castle somewhere instead of playing caravan guard?"
She glances back at me, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Isn't it cute how you think I have that luxury?"
I frown. "What do you mean?"
With a dramatic flourish, she gestures around us—at the soldiers patrolling nearby, at the bustling market filled with commoners haggling over goods. "You see, glory points are essential for nobility like me. My father was a meritocratic noble—not hereditary. So every accomplishment I achieve counts toward my future."
I furrow my brow, trying to process her words. "Glory points? What's that?"
Seraphina raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised that I'm unaware of this crucial aspect of their world. "Every action I take earns points toward knighthood or succession rights. If I don't earn enough, then when my father passes... well, let's just say there's no guarantee I'll inherit anything."
A sudden understanding dawns on me; her drive isn't merely ambition—it's survival wrapped in layers of social maneuvering and necessity.
"So you're doing this to prove yourself?" I ask slowly.
"Exactly," she replies, determination hardening her features as we walk side by side. "If I want to secure my place among the nobility—if I want to be recognized—I need those points."
That realization weighs heavily on me. While I've been focused on stats and survival within the dungeon system, she's fighting an entirely different battle—a quest for identity and legacy tied up in numbers just as complex as mine.
"Isn't that… unfair?" Tam interjects hesitantly from behind us.
Seraphina shoots him a sidelong glance but answers earnestly enough. "Life isn't fair; it never has been. If you want power or recognition in this kingdom—you must earn it through actions and choices."
I absorb her words; they settle into my mind like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. This world isn't merely governed by strength or intelligence—it thrives on performance metrics, hierarchies determined not only by bloodlines but by actions taken in pursuit of glory.
Suddenly everything clicks into focus: survival isn't just about dodging goblins or claiming stat boosts—it's about navigating social intricacies layered beneath our feet like hidden traps waiting to ensnare us.
"And what if someone doesn't earn enough glory points?" Tam asks cautiously.
Seraphina glances at him sharply before answering quietly, "Then they risk being cast aside or forgotten altogether."
The weight of her words settles heavily upon us as we approach the North Gate—a looming archway that promises freedom but carries echoes of consequences along with it.