Alix descends through the clouds and toward the mountain city, the air humming faintly as he suppresses his aura. His armor is no longer the ornate, eye catching plating he wore in battle—he changed earlier into a simpler set, dark leather reinforced with steel, something any seasoned traveler might wear. Without the armor, his features stand out more clearly. Sharp, otherworldly, his presence more akin to the rare monster races he now sees roaming the streets below.

When his boots touch the stone road at one of the mountain gates, the guards—hulking beastkin with obsidian horns and crimson eyes—pause to glance at him. Their stares linger for a moment, sensing something unusual about him, but in this city, unknown monster races are not so uncommon. They move on without a word.

Alix walks forward, his gaze sweeping the streets. The city is alive with activity. A trio of lizardfolk haggle with a merchant over glowing herbs. A frost giantess kneels to inspect a rack of spears forged from bone. Winged gargoyles perch on balconies, watching the crowds below. A pair of arachne scuttle across a bridge, their silken bundles stacked high on their backs.

He continues down the avenue, catching faint glimmers of rare items displayed in open-air stalls: runed crystals, weapons that hum faintly with law-energy, jars of beast blood still steaming with vitality. His gaze lingers here and there, calculating.

"Hm." He mutters under his breath, calm but deliberate. "Some of these could fetch a fortune back home."

His eyes shift toward the heart of the city, where a tall spire rises above the other structures. A carved emblem of crossed blades and a beast's claw marks the stone above the entrance. The building buzzes with noise—voices, laughter, the clang of weapons being set down.

Alix's steps slow, and he exhales softly.

"The adventurers' guild." His tone is measured, but intent sharpens in his gaze. "If I want information fast, that's the place."

He resumes walking, blending easily into the flow of monster-kind around him. A troll in heavy furs bumps past, grumbling in a guttural tongue. A winged woman with feathers of molten gold gives him a sidelong look, curious, before moving on. Alix ignores the glances. He's used to them.

His hand brushes the hilt of his sword absently as he passes another market row, his eyes briefly catching on a blade forged of darksteel, etched with runes that pulse faintly red. He pauses, studying it for a heartbeat.

"Not bad," he murmurs, tilting his head slightly.

He moves on, boots striking stone with steady rhythm. The guild grows closer, its noise swelling louder, the scent of blood, ale, and burning incense thick in the air.

----

The heavy doors groan as Alix pushes them open, the guild's atmosphere crashing into him like a wave—boisterous laughter, mugs clanking, the deep rumble of monster-kind voices. Dozens of eyes flick his way, but most quickly return to their drinks and talks.

Alix walks straight to the front desk where a woman waits—her skin a shade of pale lilac, horns curling delicately from her temples, her smile polished but sharp.

"What can I do for you, sir?" she asks, voice melodic yet businesslike.

"I'm here to upgrade my rank," Alix says flatly, resting his hand on the desk.

Her eyes brighten slightly, though her smile doesn't change. "And what rank are you currently holding?"

"Adamantine," he answers.

She blinks, then tilts her head curiously. "Oh? That's already impressive. For a monster of your… unique bloodline," she adds carefully, scanning his features. "But to apply for Diamond rank, I'll need to confirm your tier."

She reaches beneath the counter, placing a crystalline orb on the desk. It hums faintly with law energy. "If you would, place your hand here."

Alix does so. The crystal glows bright, streaks of lightning flickering inside before settling.

The receptionist studies it, her eyes widening slightly. "Tier six… remarkable. But—" her gaze narrows, "—this is fresh. You've just broken through, haven't you?"

Alix doesn't flinch. "And?"

She exhales, leaning forward on the desk. "Sir, the test for Diamond rank isn't something you can take lightly. It's designed for seasoned tier six adventurers. Even with your breakthrough, I strongly recommend you form a party. Going alone is… reckless."

"I'll manage." Alix's tone is even, his eyes steady on hers.

But she frowns, stubbornness flashing in her gaze. "I've seen too many overconfident warriors thrown into that trial only to come back in pieces—or not at all. I won't stand by and let another one throw his life away."

He exhales through his nose, almost amused. "Fine. Recommend me a group."

Her smile softens, though her eyes still study him with sharpness. "Good. There are a few capable parties in the city. I'll fetch their files for you." She steps away, heels clicking against the polished stone floor.

As she disappears into the back, Alix rests one hand on the counter, his gaze sweeping across the rowdy hall of monsters drinking, boasting, and arguing. His voice is low, meant only for himself.

The woman returns after a few minutes, a bundle of parchment in her hands. She sets them neatly on the desk before looking back at Alix with her same polished smile.

"Before we continue—my name is Bue," she says, tilting her head slightly. "It's only proper you know who's helping you."

"I'm Alix," he replies simply.

Bue nods, satisfied, then her expression sharpens just a touch. "By the way, you do have the money to commission them, right?"

Alix rests an elbow on the counter. "I have gold coins."

Bue blinks, her smile slipping into mild surprise. "Gold coins? Really?"

Alix raises an eyebrow. "You don't use gold coins?"

She shakes her head quickly. "We do—but most adventurers, especially the higher-ranked ones, prefer mana stones. They're easier to trade, lighter to carry, and… let's just say no one ever argues about the purity of a mana stone."

"Hm." Alix leans back slightly. "Well, I have mana stones too. So it shouldn't be a problem."

Bue exhales, relieved. "Good. That will make things smoother." She spreads the parchments across the counter, tapping the first one with a neatly manicured claw.

"Alright. The first group I'd recommend is called Iron group. Mostly beastkin, very disciplined, very professional. They've completed six Diamond-tier commissions without losing a single member. If you want steady reliability, they're the safest bet."

Her hand shifts to the second parchment, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "The second is Ashen Talons group. They're… not as polished as Iron group, but they have a reputation for handling chaotic, high-risk jobs. Their leader is a harpy with a brutal combat style, and her team thrives on unpredictable fights. Riskier, yes, but effective."

Finally, she taps the last parchment. Her expression sobers. "And the third… The Dreadscar group. They have a reputation, good and bad. Strong, yes, very strong—every member is tier 6. But they're mercenaries at heart, not idealists. They'll get the job done, but they're known for being difficult to work with unless you can keep them in line."

Alix studies the parchments quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considers each choice. He taps a finger once against the Iron group's sheet.

"This one. Iron group suits me best."

Bue blinks, then gives a small approving nod. "A wise choice. Reliable, disciplined, and less likely to cause trouble. I'll send word to them." She sets the other parchments aside, tucking them neatly into a drawer.

"Alright," she continues, folding her hands on the desk. "But be warned—it may take some time for them to arrive. They're often out on assignments, so you might as well get something to eat while you wait. You won't be disappointed with the food here, I promise."

Alix hums, then tilts his head slightly. "I'll do that. But first—tell me. Is there a way to hear about what's happening across this continent? Recent events, conflicts, that sort of thing."

Bue's brows rise, and for a moment her composure slips. She thought, That's… an unusual question.'

Alix's gaze doesn't waver.

She exhales softly, then gestures to a nearby stall across the guild hall where a squat, four-armed troll is selling glowing trinkets and odd devices. One of them—a crystal sphere mounted on a clawed stand—flickers faintly, projecting shifting images in the air above it.

"That's what you're looking for," Bue explains. "A news crystal. Feed it mana, and it will project the latest reports gathered from across the continent—like a… holographic image, if you will. The guild keeps them updated daily."