Bonus Short Stories
The Guildmaster’s Premonition
“Hey, is this for real?” asked Wolf Hermann, the guildmaster of Maalt, as he held up some papers for a member of his staff.
“It must be true,” replied the staff member. “Rentt Faina was confirmed to have entered the Water Moon Dungeon a few days ago, but his whereabouts since then are unknown. In other words, there’s no doubt he got himself into some sort of trouble. To be more specific, I believe he may no longer be alive.”
The staff member had a grave expression on his face, but a moment later, he brightened up. “But he was only a Bronze-class adventurer. There are plenty more to replace him, so I wouldn’t be too bothered by?”
The staff member shut his mouth. The man at the desk before him was noticeably displeased. The staff member knew well enough his words were to blame. He wasn’t even serious about what he said in the first place.
“Are you honestly saying that? You think we can just replace him?” Wolf asked.
“No, no, certainly not.”
“Tell me, then.”
“What?”
“Tell me why we can’t replace him, in your own words.”
“Well, he contributes quite a bit to our guild, clearly. He teaches new adventurers, introduces adventurers looking to form a party, prioritizes jobs nobody else wants to take, and more. I could go on, but then I’d never finish.”
“Right. None of these things take a lot of strength, but they’re all important jobs. Other people could do them, yeah, but he was always the one who took the initiative. He even inspired other folks to follow his example. Our guild’s now got a lower-than-average death rate, and everything runs efficiently. You know that, right?”
“Of course! But we can’t assume he’s still alive, as I’m sure you agree! I’m not saying we shouldn’t acknowledge his accomplishments, but replacing him is a necessary part of our job. I know I didn’t put it well, but it had to be said.”
With those words, Wolf realized the staff member wasn’t looking down on Rentt. He simply wanted to get past the situation without making a big deal out of it.
It was a normal way to feel. Rentt was just that significant, even if he didn’t recognize it himself. Rather, he probably didn’t care one way or another about how he was evaluated. It didn’t change his goal of becoming a Mithril-class adventurer. It was a pipe dream, and no matter how excellent he was, there was no telling whether he could achieve it. Regardless, he kept trying. Even if he could never make it, the guild cheered him on. This staff member likely didn’t think it was possible, and yet he supported Rentt too. A lot of people felt that way about him.
But now Rentt had gone missing in the Water Moon Dungeon. It was all too sad. As a guildmaster, Wolf saw many adventurers come and go, but this incident struck him particularly hard.
“Enough. I got it. You can go now,” Wolf said.
The staff member bowed. “Excuse me,” he mumbled and left the room.
“Damn, Rentt, did you really die?” Wolf asked, though he didn’t doubt it was true. The lives of adventurers were fleeting.
Wolf was overjoyed the instant he figured out where Rentt was. Rentt Vivie the Bronze-class adventurer wasn’t anyone he’d ever heard of. He knew people by the name of Rentt or Vivie, but no Rentt Vivie. But now a person using that name had come to meet with him.
Wolf had heard the name on numerous other occasions as of late and looked into data on this adventurer. If the evidence was to be believed, there were plenty of reasons to suspect this was Rentt Faina. And the moment he arrived, Wolf knew it was him.
He wore a skull mask and eerie robes, menacing in a way he never was before. It had been mere weeks, not enough time to so thoroughly change a person. A lot must have happened to him in the interim, seemingly something beyond comprehension. However, that didn’t change the heart of the matter; this was Rentt Faina. Wolf was convinced.
“Good to meet you, Bronze-class adventurer Rentt Vivie,” he said, knowing Rentt would pick up on his sarcasm if it was indeed him. Then their conversation began.
It was looking to be an interesting meeting, Wolf thought.
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