"You do know what personal space is, right?" Pasta muttered, leaning back.
"I'm quite familiar with the term," Jiji replied, her tone flat.
"Then why are you so close?"
She remained perched at the edge of a table, her face mere inches from his. "For emphasis, obviously. I've got a commission, and you three are needed for it."
Pasta pushed her face back slightly. "We're not interested. As it stands, I'm starving. Hungry. Famished. In dire need of food." His expression was dead serious.
Jiji blinked, thrown off for a second. "Wait, wait—did you just say you're hungry?"
"Yeah."
"So why say it three times?"
He leaned in just as close. "For emphasis, obviously." Then, without missing a beat, he turned. "Come on, Emilia. We don't have time for some random commission."
Emilia sighed, trailing after him. They hadn't even heard the details, but what could she do? Pasta was hopeless when hungry, and Mr Swordsman likely needed rest after his injuries. A commission from the firework girl did sound tempting, but logic dictated otherwise.
They walked past Jiji without another glance, heading to check in at the guild.
"Tell me more about the commission," Mr. Swordsman suddenly said.
Pasta and Emlia froze mid-step, their faces slowly turning back to confirm who just asked.
Mr Swordsman was interested in a commission. One given by a little girl?
Pasta sighed, rubbing his head. These days, he's been acting strange… So this isn't that surprising anymore.
He waved a hand dismissively and continued forward. "Fine. I'll handle check-in myself."
Jiji grinned and pulled a scroll from her bag, tossing it to Mr. Swordsman. "Details are all there."
Mr. Swordsman scanned the parchment, noting the details of the commission.
"I need adventurers to help gather resources from a dungeon," Jiji said.
Emilia's breath caught. A dungeon? A real dungeon? She had only ever read about them in old books or in the stories her father kept hidden away.
"I thought all the dungeons had been cleared," Mr Swordsman said.
Jiji wagged a finger. "Not exactly. While most have been cleared and turned into tourist spots, there are still dangerous ones lurking around. Like this one."
Mr. Swordsman's expression darkened as he folded the scroll. "And what exactly is a child like you doing with a dangerous dungeon like this?"
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd of adventurers.
"Jiji? A child?" One of them chuckled. Others quickly joined in, their voices filling the guild hall with amusement.
A voice cut through the laughter. "Alright, alright, settle down. They're new here."
A man stepped forward, carrying a long rifle slung across his back, casually chewing on a piece of wild grass. The moment Jiji spotted him, she stiffened, shifting slightly as if trying to blend into the background.
Mr. Swordsman, however, was already analysing him. His presence was heavy, his lifeforce controlled, but undeniably powerful. He was dressed in layered jackets, each packed with an assortment of tools and gadgets. But what stood out most was his rifle.
"You think of Jiji as only a child cause you haven't seen her beast like side," he said with a smirk.
Jiji's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "What did you just say?"
The man raised his hands . "My apologies, milady. Just educating the newcomers. Anything wrong with that?"
Jiji huffed, turning away, face partially hidden beneath her bangs. She clearly hadn't expected him here.
The man ignored her reaction and turned to Mr. Swordsman, extending a hand. "Name's Shot, famous marksman and adventurer, C-rank that is. Nice to meet you, Mr.."
"Swordsman," Emilia answered before Mr. Swordsman could. Her attention, however, was drawn to his rifle. "Are you by any chance from the Second Realm?"
Shot chuckled, flashing her an easy smile. "No, beautiful. I'm from the Eighth Realm."
He tilted his head slightly. "Figures you'd mistake me for a scholar, but trust me, I'm no intellectual. The constant wars in the Eighth are no joke. Had to scramble my way out," he said, turning back to the swordsman "Mr. Swordsman, huh? Now that's a strange name."
Pasta arrived to find Emilia hovering over a long contraption, her eyes filled with curiosity as she scribbled notes in her journal. Mr. Swordsman was busy having his usual silent party with himself in the corner, while Jiji sat slumped over a table, muttering to herself.
"Oh well, I'm done with our check-in so we can start heading out right?" Pasta said, but no one answered.
Emilia barely glanced up, too engrossed in questioning Shot about his unusual weapon. Flattered by the attention, the marksman eagerly answered every inquiry, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Pasta stood quietly, watching. Normally, he would be the one geeking out over a weapon like this. But right now, all he could think about was their impending journey to the Second Realm. This city might be their last stop as adventurers. Emilia was clearly determined to absorb every bit of knowledge she could before they left.
Jiji sidled up beside him. "Tomorrow by midday. Don't be late. I'll need your team for the commission."
"Why us?" Pasta asked.
"Because of your swordsman. He looks strong."
Pasta chuckled. "We're not cheap, you know. He's S-rank and Emilia's B."
"And you're D-rank," Jiji said, counting her fingers. "Even though you helped delay the mercenaries in Pyrovile alongside Tony's main guard."
Pasta blinked, caught off guard. "You know way too much for a kid."
Jiji smirked. "News spreads fast in the cold. People need to keep their mouths moving to stay warm, you know." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "As for payment, there won't be any issues, just don't be late."
Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out of the guild hall.
Pasta watched her go, shaking his head with a small smile. He hadn't even agreed to the commission. Still, if Emilia was enjoying herself, maybe it wasn't so bad.
A sudden bang echoed through the guild.
Emilia gasped in delight as smoke curled from the weapon in her hands. The powerful blast had been fueled by gunpowder. It wasn't her first time seeing a gun, but it was her first time firing one.
"Nothing can survive a hit from that," Shot said with a grin. "One shot, and bam- you're dead."
Emilia's eyes sparkled. "Again! Can I do it again?"
Shot laughed. "Of course! And tomorrow, during the raid, I'll show you all my splendid skills as well."
She nodded eagerly, firing into the air a few more times.
Mr. Swordsman finally signalled for them to leave. Emilia waved goodbye to Shot but was interrupted by an odd noise.
A loud grumble rumbled through the air.
Shot clutched his stomach, chuckling. "Ah, sorry about that. Sometimes it has a mind of its own."
Pasta clapped a hand on Shot's shoulder and whispered, "I understand, man. I really do."
Emilia turned back. "We're heading out for breakfast. You can join if you want."
Shot instantly perked up, rushing to her side and shaking her hand.
"Thank you! Very much. Let's go eat!"
"Finally," Pasta said under his breath.
#
The streets buzzed with life as guards made their rounds and pedestrians hurried along the frostbitten roads. Adventurers, traders, and common folk bustled about, their breath curling in the crisp morning air.
Pasta and the others strolled through the frozen city, Shot leading them toward a restaurant he usually frequents. Emilia walked ahead, chatting with Mr Swordsman, while Pasta lagged behind, his mind elsewhere.
He was focused on his energy.
As Mr. Swordsman had taught him, a person's energy came in layers. The outermost layer, closest to the body, was thick and protective- used for coating. The second layer, more flexible, allowed for elemental control, from manipulating air to bending time itself, the foundation of parallel space.
But the innermost layer was different. Faint, elusive and nearly undetectable unless charged with energy. When released, it expanded in a burst, radiating through the surroundings. If it collided with another's energy layer and fractured it, the results could be devastating, rendering the target unconscious or completely immobilised.
A miniature burst was even trickier. It required harmony between the innermost and outermost layers. The inner core releases energy and the outer layer restrains it. If done improperly, someone nearby could collapse. But if done right, it could map out the world around him, sensing the life force of every living thing. Birds, trees, even the pulse of the earth beneath his feet.
Pasta closed his eyes.
A month of training had drained him, but he needed to improve.
Green sparks flickered across his skin. He took a breath, one steady, and controlled. Then released the burst.
The energy rippled outward.
He felt it.
The passersby, the fluttering of wings, the rhythmic motion of a chef kneading dough. Food. He found food.
Until—
A jolt shot through him.
His body seized up, the shock running through him like a bolt of lightning. His knees buckled. The world spun.
He took heavy breaths while grabbing his chest.
"Pasta?!"
Emilia's voice cut through the haze, distant yet desperate.
His vision blurred, and black spots crept at the edges. Footsteps pounded against the stone pavement, and the others rushed toward him.
Mr. Swordsman's gaze swept the buildings, his instincts flaring. The streets appeared empty, but the air still crackled with someone else's energy.
"W-What was that?" Pasta rasped.
The burst had struck something. No, someone. And in that instant, they had found him too.
Emilia helped him up, concern etched across her face.
"Are you alright?"
Shot gave him a wary look. "Was he going for a miniature burst? That's a pretty tricky move"
But Pasta wasn't listening. His breathing was still uneven.
The only two people who had ever shaken him like that were Mr. Swordsman and his teacher.
His mind raced back to the stories of the Fourth Realm.
A land where the strongest hunters were currently present.
Is it possible? Could one of them be here, in this city?
The thought alone made his blood run cold.
#
Dim candlelight flickered in the restaurant, casting long, wavering shadows over the empty tables. The silence was unsettling, a stark contrast to the bustling streets outside, but it made sense. No one else was here.
Shot emerged from the back, balancing several plates of steaming food in his arms. It was clear he didn't have enough hands for the job, but after what had happened and the free meal he got, this was the least he could do.
At the table, Pasta sat slumped in his seat, still shaken from the burst. Emilia sat beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder.
Mr. Swordsman took a slow sip of his soup. He hadn't said much, but his mind lingered on that faint, yet unmistakable presence from earlier. It had been distant, barely noticeable to him, but it had hit Pasta hard. That alone was impressive. For someone's aura to resonate this strongly from afar, they weren't ordinary.
His eyes flicked to Pasta. "Did you sense him?"
Pasta exhaled, steadying himself. "Yeah... He looked about my age," he whispered, leaning back in his chair. "But that presence... It was overwhelming. I almost blacked out. Can you believe that? All I was doing was trying to find food. Food man, my luck's the worst"
Emilia's brows knitted in concern. "You scared me, Pasta. Why did you use that skill again? I thought you wanted more practice before pushing yourself like that."
Pasta gave her a lopsided grin. "Don't worry, sis. I'm fine, aren't I?" He ruffled her hair playfully. "Relax a bit."
Emilia sighed, shoving his hand away before digging into her meal.
Pasta leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. His heartbeat had steadied, but the memory of that presence still clung to him. He had been afraid. His body had screamed at him to run.
And yet.
His blood was thrumming with excitement.
This was it.
The kind of challenge he'd always wanted. A fight unlike any other.
A slow grin crept onto his face and turned to Emilia. "We've got a commission tomorrow. Midday. Hearts Family estate."
"Yeah, I'm aware so don't change the subject. You really should be careful next time"
She swung her fist at his head, but he leaned back just in time, dodging effortlessly.
"You should take better care of yourself!" she huffed, attempting another strike.
Pasta laughed, weaving past her attacks. "See? I'm already good at taking care of myself."
The siblings continued their playful skirmish while Shot sat in thought, his expression darkened by frustration.
"It must be difficult, living in a city like this," Mr. Swordsman said, setting down his empty bowl.
Shot exhaled sharply. "Adventurers and Hunters going head to head. It's like an endless battle," he muttered. "One that's been gnawing at the Fourth for over two years now."
Emilia wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Why are they fighting in the first place?"
Shot's fists clenched. "That's the thing. The Hunters showed up with that man, and suddenly, everything changed. It's always been our duty as adventurers to stop Hunters, whether they're masked or not. But no one expected it to turn into this."
Mr. Swordsman sharpened his gaze. "You mentioned a man. Is he their leader?"
Shot grabbed his beer and downed it in one gulp. "Jinni, the Silver Swordsman."
He set the mug down with a thud. "A man of pure strength. The stories say he repelled entire armies sent to the northern reaches of the realm without breaking a sweat. As for why he chose this place? No one knows. But the bards do sing about him a lot, pretty good song even for a villain."
He took a bite of his sandwich, talking through his chew. "The weird part? He's not holding anyone hostage. Anyone who doesn't like his so-called leadership can leave, with no restrictions. And spies? Assassins? Adventurers trying to take him down? They always lose."
Shot leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "That energy we felt earlier? I'd bet good coin it was one of his high-ranking Hunters. I also suggest we don't go looking for it. There's a beast out there I rather not cross paths with"
Mr Swordsman lowered his gaze.
Jinni, the Silver Swordsman.
If the rumours were true, then they weren't just dealing with some rogue leader. They were up against a man who had not only defied the Nine Realms but claimed an entire region for himself.
Now that... Mr Swordsman thought, a glint of anticipation in his eyes, is someone I'd like to meet.
Emilia sighed and looked down at her untouched meal, only to realise it had gone completely cold. She stared at the plate, watching tiny ice cubes float in the broth.
Pasta, meanwhile, smirked to himself, feeling proud for once. He had wisely eaten his food while everyone else was caught up in their bickering.
"A war spreading across the entire realm?" Emilia said, poking at her frozen meal with a pained expression. "Sounds ridiculous."
Shot downed the rest of his beer. "Absurd is the right word. And yet, despite all this chaos, the Hearts Family still plans to host their annual fireworks show."
He gave a dry chuckle. "Very, very kind of them."
Mr. Swordsman stood, offering a hand. "Get yourself together. You don't want to be a mess for tomorrow's commission."
Shot groaned as he took the help. "Yeah, yeah. Got it, boss."
With that, they left the restaurant, stepping into the cold air before parting ways.
#
Dozens of adventurers gathered at the entrance of the Hearts Family estate, their boots crunching against the snow-dusted ground. The manor itself was a modest wooden structure, nestled within a compound enclosed by a high stony fence, too tall for an average person to scale. But then again, thieves and hunters were not average people.
A handful of guards patrolled the area, their watchful eyes sweeping over the group. Nearby, a small shack sat hunched against the cold, likely used to store supplies. Beneath the sprawling branches of an old oak tree, the adventurers huddled.
Jiji climbed onto a wooden crate, ensuring her gaze remained level with the crowd instead of craning upward. With a small adjustment to the fine coat her mother had gifted her for the occasion, she cleared her throat and addressed the gathered adventurers.
"As you all know, today we'll be raiding the Demir of Grandeur. It's not going to be an easy task, so I'll be selecting only the best from this group."
She let her sharp gaze drift over them. "Our goal isn't to clear the dungeon, just to secure the ores on the third floor. Three entrances lead directly there, and I'll be forming teams of four to retrieve as much as possible along the way."
A man raised his hand. "How much is the pay? And just how dangerous is the job?"
Jiji didn't hesitate. "The total reward is one thousand gold coins, to be split among the participants. On top of that, you'll gain exclusive access to the fireworks ceremony." She smirked. "A pretty good deal, if I do say so myself. As for the danger level according to my research, only one path is actually a bit dangerous so the group I'll be selecting can handle it"
The adventurers broke into murmurs.
A hefty reward, but once divided among them, it wasn't much and certainly not enough to risk venturing into a dungeon. Cleared or not, it remained a dungeon.
Jiji narrowed her eyes as she listened to the quiet hesitations creeping through the group. She clenched her jaw, inhaled, and then exhaled slowly before speaking, her voice low but laced with irritation.
"If you want to leave," she murmured, "then leave."
The muttering ceased.
"I'll be selecting twelve of you," Jiji said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "This isn't a volunteer mission, you know so feel free to leave. All B to S ranks are already hired. That leaves just five spots for the rest of you. And to decide who gets them..." She smiled, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "How about we play a game?"
Pasta sighed, lowering his head. Being a low rank is already exhausting. Now this?
At Jiji's signal, a group of men stepped forward, each carrying a heavy stone. They arranged them in a rough circle on the frozen ground, marking out a crude ring.
"Simple rules," Jiji said. "Five rounds. One-on-one brawls. You win by forcing your opponent out of the ring or rendering them unable to fight. No weapons, no killing and I don't wanna see blood okay? Mother would be displeased"
The remaining adventurers exchanged eager glances, some already stretching their arms and cracking their knuckles. Nothing like a good scrap in the snow to keep the blood warm.
Emilia, watching from the sidelines, could not have been more relieved that her rank had already secured her place. Thank the heavens for that.
"The first match: Kabal, C-rank, versus Titing, same rank," Jiji announced, reclining lazily atop her crate.
Kabal grunted, tossing his axe aside with a dull thud. "No weapons, right? No problem with me."
The massive man flexed, muscles rippling beneath his thick coat, dark eyes locked onto his opponent.
Titing exuded effortless confidence. He stretched leisurely, his golden hair flowing like silk in the cold breeze. He wasn't as bulky as Kabal, but he didn't need to be. His greatest weapons were his energy, his charm, his divinely granted perfection. The gods had sculpted him so exquisitely; that it would be foolish not to use every blessed asset in battle.
Kabal cracked his knuckles. "You're done for!" he screamed, charging forward.
Titing barely spared him a glance, still caught up in adjusting his hair. "Nothing good will come from you getting hurt, dear," he said, side-stepping the first punch with ease.
And the second.
And the third.
Each strike came faster, heavier, yet Titing weaved through them effortlessly, a smirk playing at his lips. "Dear, oh dear. Take it easy, dear. No need to rush, dear—"
Kabal growled, his frustration mounting as Titing muttered "dear" after every dodge.
Then, finally—crack!
A fist connected squarely with Titing's face. His vision blurred as he was sent flying out of the ring.
The moment he hit the ground, his eyes went blank. Kabal pumped his fists in the air, releasing a victorious roar.
The gathered adventurers exploded into cheers, some roaring with laughter at Titing's unceremonious exit. Jiji, meanwhile, exhaled through her nose, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. She rather liked having a blond guy around. What a shame.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Next match: Shot versus Jace."
Shot stepped forward, smirking as he entered the ring. His opponent, Jace, was a scrawny adventurer of the same rank. Weapons were forbidden, which meant Shot couldn't rely on his rifle.
Jace wasted no time, lunging forward with a fist aimed straight for Shot's face.
Shot blinked, sweat forming at his temple. They just had to make this unfair, huh?
But he didn't move.
He simply stood there, waiting.
Then, in an instant, the world seemed to lose its colour.
A second later, Shot was already walking past Jace's form.
"I may be C-rank," he whispered, "but I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Jace barely had time to register what had happened before a swift kick sent him tumbling out of the ring.
The crowd erupted again.
They hadn't seen what exactly had happened but they had seen the outcome. Shot was the victor. And that was enough.
Among the spectators, Pasta watched closely. Parallel space again, he thought, gripping his arms. I still can't see it…
Jiji casually folded her parchment. "Next match: Spaghetti versus Merlin."
"It's Pasta," he said.
"No difference."
Pasta sighed, turning to face his opponent, a man draped in a flowing robe, his ridiculously long wizard's hat flapping in the wind. Beneath the fabric, his hairy legs were awkwardly exposed to the biting cold.
What kind of grown man wears that in this weather?
Merlin was a rank higher, but that didn't bother Pasta. He had no time for an extended match. Also, he noticed he was the only D rank around and how the other adventurers all stared at him.
Merlin gave a knowing smile. "I'm sorry, youngster, but you stand no chance. You're fighting a man who has mastered one of the three powers."
The air around him shifted.
Snowflakes lifted from the ground, swirling violently, forming a raging blizzard. The storm consumed the ring in an instant, shrouding everything in white.
Pasta stood in the heart of it, unmoving.
Merlin's voice rang out from within the storm. "You're done for!" He lunged forward, fist cocked back, the snow parting around him like a raging beast.
Mr. Swordsman is faster than this.
Pasta didn't flinch.
Then—
Boom!
The air around Pasta exploded, sweeping across the ring like a shockwave. The blizzard dissipated instantly.
Pasta exhaled, his breath coming heavy as he held Merlin's unconscious form in the air.
Jiji wasn't surprised. This was the group that saved Pyrovile… and apparently, conquered the icy castle too.
She wasn't testing Pasta to see if he could win. She was curious about how the so-called lackey would fare under pressure.
Pasta's fingers held Merlin's face.
He sighed and threw the old man off the ring. Then he turned to the other adventurers who stood in silence.
Kabal approached Pasta, looming over him like a mountain. "You're strong. Concentrating energy like that ain't easy," he said before turning away. "If you're free, let's grab a drink."
Pasta smirked. "I'll hold you to that."
The remaining fights concluded, and the final five adventurers were chosen.
Jiji leapt back onto her crate, raising a fist into the air. "The selection is complete! Now," she grinned, her voice carrying over the crowd. "Let's go raid a dungeon!"