CHAPTER 91: ESCORT MISSION

The Adventurer’s Guild was bustling with the usual chaos — weapons clinking, laughter echoing, and parchment rustling as missions were taken and posted.

Oliver leaned casually against the counter, flashing his best grin at Lena. "Morning, gorgeous. Missed me?"

Lena didn’t even look up from her paperwork. "Missed your bad jokes, maybe."

"Harsh," he said, pressing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "You wound me more than any goblin could."

Now she looked up, arching a brow. "You sure healed quick for someone who nearly died last week."

"Strong constitution," he said smoothly. "And an even stronger healer." He nodded toward Ariana, who stood beside Isolde looking both polite and a little uncomfortable.

"Mm-hmm." Lena crossed her arms. "So, what’s the plan today? Gonna pick something simple for once? Or are you here to flirt until I throw you out?"

"I’d never waste your time like that," Oliver said with a grin. "I’m here for a high-paying job this time. Preferably one that doesn’t involve goblins, slime, or things that smell worse than both."

"High-paying, huh?" Lena smirked, already rifling through the mission stack. "Someone’s feeling bold. Or broke."

Oliver chuckled awkwardly, scratching his cheek. "Let’s just say my wallet’s seen better days."

That made her pause. "Wait—what? Didn’t you earn thirty-five gold coins from the last mission?"

Ariana blinked in surprise too. "Thirty-five? That’s a fortune for one job!"

"Yeah..." Oliver trailed off, scratching his head again. "You could say I had... expenses."

Lena eyed him suspiciously. "Expenses that cost thirty-five gold coins in a single day?"

He coughed lightly. "Adventuring’s... unpredictable."

"Unbelievable, more like," she said, shaking her head but smirking. "Well, it’s your money. Not like I can tell you how to spend it."

"Exactly. So—what do you have that’s worth my current financial desperation?" he asked, leaning closer over the counter.

Lena scanned the parchment stack, lips pursed in thought, then plucked out one and tapped it against the desk. "Found something that fits your type."

"My type?"

"High risk, high pay, and probably more trouble than you think," she said, handing it over.

Oliver took the sheet and skimmed it. "Escort job? Huh. That’s rare."

Lena’s tone turned grave as she slid the parchment across the counter. "Client’s a noble. High-profile — the kind of person who doesn’t show up on guild boards unless something’s really serious. The mission is classified as S-rank."

Oliver blinked. "Wait. S-rank? For an escort job?"

Lena nodded, her face dead serious. "Pays a hundred gold coins upfront, plus bonuses depending on performance."

Ariana nearly dropped her staff. "A h-hundred gold coins? For escorting someone? That’s insane!"

Even Isolde’s brow twitched, interest flickering in her crimson eyes. "That’s... unusually generous."

Lena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "You wouldn’t be surprised if you knew where this escort is headed."

Oliver frowned, crossing his arms. "And that would be...?"

Lena gave a wry, tight-lipped smile. "That part’s classified. The client’s details are sealed under direct guild authority. Even I don’t know who they are — only the Guildmaster does."

Oliver arched a brow. "That’s rare."

"Exactly," Lena said, lowering her voice. "If not for Miss Isolde here—" she gave a pointed look at the white-haired woman beside him, "—an S-class mage with a record that still gives some of our veterans nightmares, I wouldn’t have even shown this mission to your party."

Oliver let out a low whistle. "An escort mission listed as S-rank..." He smirked. "Alright, you’ve got my attention."

Lena chuckled, though there was little humor in her tone. "You might want to hold that enthusiasm. You won’t be saying that once you hear where you’re headed."

She tapped the parchment, and Oliver leaned closer to read. The name written there didn’t stir much in him — "The Blackveil Expanse."

He looked up. "Never heard of it."

But beside him, Ariana’s breath caught sharply. "W–Wait. Did you say Blackveil Expanse?" Her face paled.

Oliver and Isolde exchanged glances. "What’s wrong with that place?"

Ariana stared at them like they’d just said they were going for a picnic in a graveyard. "It’s one of the deadliest regions in the continent. The entire forest is blanketed by cursed miasma — monsters mutate there. Even D-class beasts turn into abominations. No sane person goes anywhere near it."

Lena nodded grimly. "That’s right. It’s been off-limits for over a decade. Any normal escort request through that zone would be suicide. Which is why the pay is so high."

Oliver fell silent, tapping a finger against the parchment. Now it makes sense. He thought, the pieces clicking together. "But still... what kind of noble needs an escort through a place like that?"

No one had an answer.

Isolde broke the silence first. Her tone was calm, but her eyes had that glint of excitement that appeared whenever something dangerous caught her interest. "Whatever the reason, we’ll find out once we’re there. We’ll take the mission."

Lena exhaled, as if relieved yet uneasy. "Excellent. Then it’s settled."

Oliver gave a small nod. His pulse thrummed with confidence — this new body, this new strength... he wanted to test it.

But Ariana, standing beside them, looked far less convinced. Her expression tightened, a flicker of regret flashing in her eyes. "What did I get myself into..." she muttered under her breath.

Lena didn’t seem to notice. She handed Oliver a sealed envelope marked with the guild’s wax insignia. "Report here by 9 a.m. tomorrow. The client will depart shortly after. Pack light but smart — the Blackveil route isn’t forgiving."

Oliver tucked the envelope away. "Got it. We’ll be ready."

~~~~~

The evening air outside the guild was cool and still, the streets thinning as lamps flickered to life one by one. Ariana stopped at the corner, clutching her staff lightly. "Then, I’ll see you both tomorrow morning. Guild gates, right at nine," she said, smiling brightly.

"Right," Oliver nodded. "Get a good night’s rest. Who knows how long we’ll be gone once we start."

Ariana chuckled nervously. "Don’t remind me. I still can’t believe we’re actually taking an S-rank escort mission."

Isolde smirked, brushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear. "You’ll survive. Just keep up with us, and you might even learn something useful."

"I’ll... take that as encouragement," Ariana said, laughing softly before turning down another street. "See you tomorrow!"

Oliver and Isolde watched her go, her figure fading into the misty lamplight before they turned toward the familiar sign of The Velvet Hearth.

By the time they stepped through the inn’s door, the place had quieted down for the night. Serena was at the counter, wiping mugs, the usual warmth in her eyes dimmed by something quieter — resignation, maybe.

"You’re back early," she said with a faint smile. "So, did you get a mission?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, sliding onto a nearby stool. "An escort job. But it’s a long one — we might be gone for a few weeks this time."

Serena’s hands paused mid-wipe. "...Weeks, huh?"

Isolde gave a small nod. "The destination isn’t exactly close. And the road won’t be easy."

There was a long moment of silence. Then Serena smiled again — soft, but with a heaviness beneath it. "That’s how adventurers are, I suppose. Never staying in one place too long." She chuckled quietly. "Honestly, I’m surprised you two stuck around here this long."

Oliver frowned slightly. "Why do you sound like we’re never coming back?"

She shrugged, looking down at the mug in her hand. "I don’t mean it like that. It’s just... jobs like these have a way of changing people. Or taking them somewhere they can’t easily return from."

Oliver grinned, brushing off the weight in her tone. "It’s just an escort mission. We’ll be back before you know it."

"Ha..." Serena gave a small, weary laugh. "I hope so."

She turned away, setting the mug back on the shelf. But her eyes lingered for a moment longer than usual — on Oliver, on Isolde, on the faint glow of the guild seal at Oliver’s belt.

Neither of them noticed the unease behind her smile.

Because in that moment, none of them could have known — that Serena’s quiet words, half-spoken in jest, would soon turn out to be true.

~~~~

The next morning came early — crisp air, pale sun cutting through the thinning mist. The city was already stirring when Oliver and Isolde arrived at the guild. The scent of parchment, steel, and ale greeted them as they stepped through the doors.

Ariana was already there, sitting at one of the benches near the counter, her staff leaning against her shoulder. She waved when she spotted them.

"Morning! You’re early."

"Couldn’t sleep," Oliver said, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Big job today, remember?"

Isolde gave a faint nod. "Better early than late."

They didn’t have to wait long before the guild’s usual morning chatter filled the hall — the clatter of boots, laughter, and arguments over bounties. Oliver leaned against the counter beside Ariana, drumming his fingers on the wood.

"So," he said, glancing around, "where’s our client? Shouldn’t they be here by now?"

"Good question," Ariana said. "You’d think someone paying that much gold would at least be punctual."

Before anyone could answer, heavy footsteps sounded from the upper floor — the kind that made the boards creak in protest. Heads turned.

Two figures descended the stairs.