CHAPTER 67: A MISSION SECURED

Chapter 66: A Mission Secured

The moment Ethan and Lirael stepped into the building, they felt the weight of curious eyes on them—but it was Lirael who drew the majority of attention. Her maid outfit, pristine and perfectly fitted, seemed to cast a spell over the onlookers, drawing stares that lingered longer than polite. Ethan noticed them but were ignored.

The interior of the hall was bustling, the scent of fresh wood mingling with the faint tang of candle wax. Voices murmured in a soft undertone, interrupted occasionally by the clatter of boots on the polished floor. The air was alive with energy and the promise of adventure.

Without hesitation, they made their way to the mission board. Ethan’s eyes flicked across the parchment, scanning the listings with methodical efficiency, while Lirael’s lingered on the colorful notes pinned alongside each task. There were subjugation missions, scouting requests, and escort assignments—some leading to the Aurith Kingdom, others toward ruins—but their focus was elsewhere.

"Look at this," Lirael said, pointing to a cluster of missions labeled for the Iridale Kingdom. Her fingers brushed the edge of a parchment, eyes widening. "These are all escort missions... but there are so many open. Seems no one wants to take them."

Ethan leaned over, glancing at the postings. "Iridale is quite a distance... and with the recent monster activity, I can see why."

Lirael’s attention caught when her eyes landed on a familiar name among the employers. "Wait... I know this one," she said softly. "I escorted him here before, with my old party. It’s the same man."

"And the pay?" Ethan asked, scanning the details.

"Seventy silvers," she murmured, frowning slightly. "It’s higher than last time... why would it cost more?"

Ethan gave a small, amused smile. "Maybe the monsters got a raise."

She rolled her eyes at his joke but didn’t press further. Together, they walked to the counter, parchment in hand. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a clipboard, raised an eyebrow as Ethan presented his newly acquired plate.

"This C-rank mission requires at least one member to be C-rank," she said, flipping through her ledger. "Your plate... yes, this is legitimate. You’ll qualify." She tapped the parchment with a careful finger.

Lirael felt a small thrill as the woman’s gaze softened slightly. "There has been an increase in monster activity along the road to Iridale," the receptionist warned seriously. "It’s made the journey far more dangerous than before. Please... be cautious."

Ethan nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. "Understood."

The receptionist gave a slight smile, almost as if she were relieved to see competent adventurers taking the job. "I’ll arrange a meeting with your employer in about an hour. Until then, you can rest in the lounge. Refresh yourselves before the journey."

The lounge was quiet, the plush chairs inviting after the crowded bustle of the mission hall. Lirael sank into one, the fabric soft against her skin, while Ethan chose a seat across from her. The air smelled faintly of spiced tea and polished wood, a subtle comfort in contrast to the tension that always accompanied the promise of a new mission.

Lirael glanced at Ethan, her heart beating just a little faster. "Well," she said, smoothing the apron of her maid outfit, "looks like we’re going back to Iridale... together."

Ethan’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. "Together," he confirmed, his gaze steady, almost protective.

Outside, the world went on oblivious to their plans, but inside the lounge, time seemed to slow—a brief, serene pause before the dangers of the road awaited them.

---

Not even an hour had passed when hurried footsteps echoed through the lounge. A middle-aged man with a wealthy air approached, his fine clothes slightly wrinkled from haste, beads of sweat glinting along his hairline. Panting, he came to a stop in front of Ethan and Lirael.

"Are you... the ones who accepted my mission?" he asked, voice tight with relief.

Ethan gave a calm nod. "Yes, that would be us."

The man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he sank into a nearby chair as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He leaned forward slightly, scrutinizing Lirael, who stood perfectly still, hands clasped in front of her, every inch the professional maid she was meant to be.

"Excuse me, but... is she your maid?" he asked cautiously, glancing at her.

"Yes, she is," Ethan replied smoothly, his tone polite but firm. "Is there a problem?"

"None at all," the man said quickly, his eyes still lingering on Lirael. "Will she... accompany you on the journey as well?"

A small smirk flickered across Ethan’s face. "Ah, you’re worried about that. Don’t be. She’s a D-rank adventurer, recently awakened. And for your information, I’ve awakened as well."

The tension in the man’s expression melted, replaced by relief as if a storm had passed. He leaned back slightly, exhaling audibly.

"Please... help me reach Iridale safely. I’ve heard rumors of a monster tide soon, and my family... they’re vacationing near the city walls, completely unaware. I must hurry." His voice wavered with urgency.

"You don’t need to worry, sir," Ethan assured, his tone steady, carrying the calm of someone used to facing danger. "We’ve accepted your mission and will see you there safely."

The merchant’s lips pressed together, gratitude shining in his eyes, but concern remained. "Thank goodness... but... it’s only the two of you?"

Ethan’s expression softened, and he added casually, "Yes, it’s just the two of us.’ hearing this the man’s expression turned somber, then Ethan added "Though... if you wish, I could invite some soldiers to join. They’re friends of mine and were planning to return to Iridale anyway... though they can be a bit demanding."

The merchant’s eyes lit up immediately, a spark of hope replacing his worry. "Then... don’t worry about the payment. I’ll raise it to one gold! I just need to reach Iridale safely—and quickly."

"That will be done," Ethan said with a confident nod. He glanced toward Lirael, who gave a barely perceptible nod in agreement, her expression calm and professional.

"And when do you wish to depart?" Ethan asked.

"If you’re ready... within an hour," the merchant replied hurriedly. "I cannot waste time. My family—"

"Then it’s settled," Ethan interrupted, his voice steady, authoritative. "We’ll leave in an hour. Why don’t you wait near the village gates? We’ll meet you there on time."

The man nodded vigorously, relief flooding his face. "Thank you... truly. I will be there."

The room fell into a calm quiet again, the faint scent of polished wood and lingering tea from the lounge mixing with the distant rustle of townsfolk outside. Lirael shifted slightly, adjusting her apron, and Ethan leaned back, the weight of responsibility already settling on his broad shoulders.

The journey to Iridale had begun—not with a step outside the village, but with the unspoken understanding of the dangers awaiting them, and the promise of reward for those bold enough to face them.

Just as the merchant left, he turned back and gave Lirael a smug, almost playful smile. Lirael rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She already knew the soldiers he had mentioned were his summons—Ethan’s subtle way of securing extra hands while inflating his pay.

"Heh... money will be no problem if you’re strong," Ethan murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Lirael shot him a side glance, lips twitching. "You make it sound so easy."

They stepped out of the guild building, the warm sunlight spilling over the cobblestones. The streets were quiet, most townsfolk still inside or attending to midday chores, leaving an empty space for them to prepare. Ethan waved his hand, and before Lirael’s eyes, a gleaming set of golden-colored armor materialized.

"Full hand guards, aboment guards, leg protection... all to match your choker and maid outfit," Ethan said, his voice tinged with humor. "With this, you’re officially my gorgeous battle maid. Hehe."

Lirael winced at the thought of how exorbitant the armor must be, but there was no time to protest. She took a deep breath and began equipping the pieces.

First, she slipped her arms into the hand guards, feeling the smooth, cool metal hug her wrists, forearms and shoulders. Each movement sent a faint metallic chime as the pieces clicked into place. Next came the aboment guards, which she fastened over her chest and torso, the golden surface catching the sunlight and reflecting it like molten metal. Finally, she strapped on the leg protection, the polished armor encasing her legs snugly, every buckle secured with precision.

As she adjusted the last strap, she could feel the weight of the armor settling onto her frame—not heavy, but grounding. Each piece fit seamlessly over her maid outfit, her choker gleaming in golden contrast, turning her into a striking figure—both elegant and battle-ready.

Ethan watched, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Perfect. You look... terrifyingly beautiful," he said lightly.

Lirael muttered something under her breath, mostly about the cost, choosing to ignore his compliment, but the thought was pushed aside. There was no time for worry now.

Ethan summoned four soldiers, his hands moving in precise gestures. The men appeared instantly, tall and imposing. "Remove your helmets," Ethan instructed.

They complied, revealing faces so pale and expressionless they seemed almost lifeless—skin like porcelain, eyes focused straight ahead, as if any emotion had been carefully stripped away. Lirael’s eyes widened slightly at the sight.

"Cover any exposed skin," Ethan added, tossing them cloth. They wrapped themselves efficiently, then putting on the helmet again, now looking like disciplined, silent soldiers, entirely ready to obey their lord’s command without question.

Ethan himself donned his light armor, the dark steel contrasting sharply with the gold of Lirael’s set. He fastened his belt and slung his dark blade across his back, its polished edge gleaming faintly even in the daylight.

"Shall we get supplies?" Ethan suggested, gesturing toward a nearby market stall. They bought rations for the journey: dried meats, bread, some fruit, and a small, rugged backpack—though it was mostly for appearances, as Ethan could summon anything they needed.

Two soldiers hoisted the pack with ease. Lirael too checked her bow, arrow and adjusting her armor one last time. The metallic plates sang softly with her movements, a reminder of both the weight of responsibility and the readiness for battle.

"All set?" Ethan asked, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his blade.

Lirael nodded, her posture straight and confident. "All set. Let’s go make sure your merchant arrives safely."

The quiet village street now seemed charged with anticipation. The sun glinted off golden armor and dark steel alike, a subtle herald of the journey ahead—an escort mission that promised danger, discipline, and the silent promise of victory for those prepared to face it.