The streets of Arvalen teemed like a living river. Merchants shouted offers from every corner, bards strummed lively melodies, the smell of freshly baked bread and seasoned meat wafted from the stalls. Amidst carts laden with burdens, children running, and guards passing on patrol, three figures advanced side by side, attracting more glances than any call for tenders or music.

At the front, Irelia walked with the confidence of someone who knew everyone was watching—and with good reason. Her form-fitting white and gold leather outfit gleamed in the late afternoon light. Each polished buckle reflected the sun as if it had been cleaned that morning. Strapped to her hip, the golden hilt of her sword seemed to pulse with a glow of its own, and any seasoned adventurer would know it was no ordinary weapon, but an artifact of incalculable value. Her golden hair fell straight to her shoulders, and her golden eyes glittered, measuring the city with the coldness of a predator.

Behind her, Amelia walked calmly, but the contrast between the serenity of her posture and the magnetism of her appearance drew eyes to her with equal intensity. Her blue cloak, open in the front, revealed a black dress of fine fabric, its bold neckline and discreet jewelry suggesting wealth and power. The staff she held tightly exuded visible arcane energy—small, glowing particles floated around the crystal at the top, as if the air around her refused to remain still.

Sylphie, for her part, needed no magic or precious metals to be noticed. Her tanned skin and white hair, typical of a dark elf, would have drawn attention on their own, but her fitted leather outfit, adorned with small silver pieces and dark fabric, made it clear she was not just a traveler—she was a hunter, accustomed to moving fast and striking hard. The bow on her back, with a new string and side blade, completed the image. Even amidst the constant flow of people, their presence seemed to displace the air, as if the streets needed to make room for them.

And so, the three of them advanced, drawing the attention of civilians, guards, vendors, and even other adventurers, who exchanged glances with one another as if recognizing danger—or opportunity.

The problem was that, despite the visual impact, they had a clear objective, and nothing so far indicated they were getting close.

Irelia approached a fruit vendor, resting one hand on the counter.

"We're looking for a young man with red hair," she began, her voice firm but without hostility, "tall, about six feet three. Golden eyes."

The woman blinked, trying to process the description. "Golden... eyes?" she asked suspiciously, as if unsure if she was hearing a joke. "No, I've never seen anyone like that."

"He doesn't go unnoticed," Amelia added, her tone controlled, but with a weight that made it clear it was no simple question.

"Sorry, young people." The saleswoman flinched slightly, returning to her apple arrangement. "Lots of people pass through here every day."

The three of them continued on, crossing a crowded intersection. Sylphie peered intently at every face, every shadow of expression, as if she could recognize her target instinctively. But nothing.

They tried again, this time with a group of merchants unloading fabrics from a cart. The reaction was the same: confusion, denial, and the frustrating feeling that they might always be one step behind.

"This city is bigger than I thought," Sylphie murmured, adjusting the quiver on her back. "If he's here, he won't be easy to find."

Irelia sighed. "It's not about size. It's the kind of place where people can disappear in the crowd. And he knows it."

Amelia walked a little behind, observing not only the people but the buildings, as if searching for non-obvious clues.

"Perhaps we shouldn't ask directly. Such specific descriptions might fall on deaf ears."

"I agree," Irelia said. "But we also can't waste time."

On the next block, the street opened onto a square. A central fountain gushed crystal-clear water, and around it were crowded musicians, children, and street vendors with carts. The three of them stopped for a moment, not to rest, but to watch the action.

Sylphie crossed her arms impatiently. "What's the plan now?"

Irelia didn't answer immediately. Her golden eyes fixed on an old man sitting on a nearby bench, chewing something fibrous that resembled a dried root. She approached, leaning slightly so that her shadow fell over him.

"Have you been around here long?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.

The man let out a hoarse chuckle. "Longer than you should."

"Then perhaps you saw a young man with red hair. Tall, about six feet tall. Golden eyes."

The old man stopped chewing and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to fit the description into his memory.

"Ah... that one again." A corner of his mouth lifted. "I've seen him a few times. He's the wizard we've been talking about lately, isn't he?"

Irelia frowned. "A wizard?"

"Yes." The old man shifted in his seat, as if the memory were worth a little more attention. "He arrived in town a few days ago to register. And on the first day..." he paused dramatically, as if savoring the gossip, "he saw a healer being assaulted by her own teammate. He didn't think twice. He killed the man in front of everyone."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "And no one arrested him?"

The old man let out a short whistle. "Oh, girl, after he healed the woman, no one wanted to get involved. That was quick... and ugly. The kind of thing the town doesn't forget anytime soon."

Irelia narrowed her eyes at the old man, as if she could force him to reveal more than he was saying. "So you saw him, you know he's famous, but you don't know where he is now?"

The old man raised his wrinkled hands in a gesture of lazy surrender. "I know you passed by, but Arvalen isn't a small town, girl. People like that don't just sit still."

Sylphie sighed loudly, turning her head away. "Good. So we're hunting a ghost."

Amelia, who had been watching silently, leaned forward slightly, resting her staff on the ground. The magical energy coursing through the crystal at the top seemed to react to her mood.

"Think, sir. Even if you don't know exactly where he is, perhaps you have an idea of where he frequents. A place where someone like him… let's say… with that reputation… might appear."

The old man scratched his chin, looking at the stone floor as if searching for the answer there.

"Hmm… I don't know where he is, but I know where they last saw him." He glanced at them sideways, clearly enjoying the attention he was receiving. "If you want to know more, you should go to the Freedom Guild."

Sylphie raised an eyebrow. "Freedom Guild?"

"Right." The old man nodded. "That's where it all happened. The incident with the wizard and the guy he killed. Since then, everyone in the guild has been talking about him. If anyone knows where to find him now, it's there."

Irelia gave a half-smile, relieved to finally have a thread to pull. "And where is this guild?"

The old man pointed north with his chin.

"Follow the main street to the end, then turn right at the fountain square. You can't miss it, the building is big, with the blue flag and the silver symbol. And before you ask, yes, you'll attract attention when you get there..." He looked from Irelia's golden hair to Amelia's blue cloak and Sylphie's exotic features. "...maybe too much so."

"Good." Sylphie smiled wryly. "I love attracting attention."

"I noticed." The old man went back to chewing his root, already returning to his own world. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my lunch won't chew itself."

The three of them walked away, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Sylphie was the first to speak: "I don't know about you, but I don't like relying on chatty old men for information."

"He gave us a starting point," Amelia said, adjusting her staff in her hands. "It's better than asking door to door."

Irelia kept her eyes on the street ahead, observing the flow of the city.

"The Freedom Guild..." she repeated thoughtfully. "If that's where the incident happened, that's where we'll find the next clue."

Sylphie let out a theatrical sigh. "I hope my Kael isn't with a woman."

Amelia arched an eyebrow, slowly turning her face to Sylphie. "Your Kael?" she repeated, her intonation a mix of incredulity and mockery.

Sylphie gave a lazy smile. "Of course. I wouldn't waste all that time looking for someone I'm not interested in."

Irelia gave a short, humorless laugh. "Being interested is different from belonging. And, just to be clear, he's not yours."

"Nor yours," Sylphie retorted, crossing her arms defiantly.

Amelia, who had been watching the exchange until then, decided to join in.

"Technically, he's not either of ours."

"Technically," Sylphie emphasized the word as if it were a verdict. "But I met him first, so I have the advantage."

Irelia snorted, tilting her head to the side. "I trained with him first."

"I room with him!!" Amelia spoke… louder than she should have.