The moment he was inside, he exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk.
'What a night.'
With a chuckle, he made his way toward the counter.
Zayn made his way through the guildhall, his boots scuffing against the wooden floor.
The air inside was warm compared to the damp night outside, filled with the usual scents of ink, parchment, and the lingering musk of adventurers who had spent too much time on the road without a proper bath.
They stunk for real.
Despite that, the atmosphere was strangely quiet.
As he approached the counter, he noticed something odd — nearly all of the attendants had their heads down, resting on their arms.
Some were fully slumped over, their soft breathing indicating that they had dozed off. Others, while still awake, looked drowsy, their eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
Zayn raised an eyebrow.
'A break? Or do they just not sleep at home?'
He reached the counter where the familiar half-elf woman was resting her head.
