Soon the first distant figure appeared over the rise in the Safe Road, little more than a shadow at this distance. Glenn immediately stood at attention and went silent. Scott chuckled.

“You’ve got the posture down, certainly, but be less stiff. You’re a Town Guard, not a statue.”

Glenn glanced at Seth. Wouldn’t the oncoming Adventurer hear them talking? He’d never heard Town Guards talk while he was around.

“That man can’t hear a word of this from that distance,” Scott assured him. “Widen your stance. Save the parade rest for Mayor Coleman. Remember, you’re ready to bash some skulls if someone doesn’t behave.”

Glenn looked down at his feet, realized he did look rather unprepared for a fight, and adjusted his stance. He immediately felt better. He felt more balanced now.

“Loosen those shoulders,” Scott said. “You don’t have to hold your mace like that. It’s fine to let it droop a little. You hold it stiff like that for eight hours, you’ll hurt your wrist.”

Glenn’s [Guardian Mace] still felt impossibly light for a weapon of its size, but its weight was noticeable. Perhaps Scott was right. Glenn relaxed his arm muscles while keeping a firm grip on his weapon, and immediately realized that did feel better. He hadn’t been aware how stiff he’d been.

“Looking better,” Scott agreed cheerily. “Now here we go. Silent and intimidating!”

The man on the road was close enough that Glenn knew he was definitely an Adventurer. He wore well-used [Steel Armor], which suggested he was higher Level that appropriate to Grassea and a Class that expected to get hit. He carried a battered [Iron Shield] on his back and had a one-handed [Bone Axe] swinging from his waist, which was an odd choice. That was actually a Monster weapon, but Uncommon all the same. No Monster carried those in Grassea.

The shield made it obvious this man was a Brutalist, but not one for whom any Monster in Grassea would pose a challenge. So why would he be here? As the man walked close enough for Glenn to covertly examine the rest of the man’s gear, he found a [Leather Pouch] at his waist, but no [Unfilled Bag]. Given the man’s well-worn armor and shield, perhaps he couldn’t yet afford such luxury.

The man reached the gates and passed between them, into Wolfpine, without a word or glance. Glenn remained still, yet he suspected he could have been leaning against the gate without getting a reaction. He’d expected at least a nod of greeting, but he felt pretty much invisible.

Once the man had walked far enough into town to be out of hearing distance, Scott chuckled. “A boon for our local Entertainers. They’ll be busy tonight.”

After a moment to ensure no one was observing them, Glenn stared at Scott. “How can you possibly know that? He didn’t ask for directions or say a thing.”

“The gear, Redwood!” Scott said, as if Glenn had just asked him what color the sky was. “The minimum Level to wear [Steel Armor] is 10, yet his armor was battered from heavy use. That suggests he’s had it for some time. [Bone Axes] are used by Goblin tribes up in Evolan, which range from Level 10 to 14, so he’s obviously capable of killing those. Yet his armor is at best in decent shape, suggesting a large portion of the crescents he earns from Adventurers go to sources other than his town Blacksmith.”

“Maybe he’s here for an Enchantment,” Glenn said, doubtfully. His mother did those.

“In Wolfpine?” Scott asked. “I’ll not say one word against your kind mother, but there are Enchanters her Level and higher in Lakebrooke. No reason to come all the way out here. There’s only one resource we have that Lakebrooke doesn’t, and those are Entertainers that man hasn’t yet boned.”

Glenn grimaced inside his helmet. All Scott’s guesses did some remarkably plausible, and even though Scott had stood these gates for four years, that didn’t mean Glenn should allow his own skills of evaluation to atrophy. Learning to size up passing Adventurers would both keep his mind sharp and help ease the boredom of standing watch all day.

Scott continued. “A night’s shift says that man plans to buy himself a room at the inn, sleep through the day, wake up in the early evening, and spend the night boning his way through The Scarlet Rose. The variety is as important as the experience when you’re on the road as often as that man is.”

“I’m not betting against you,” Glenn said, impressed. “You really know a lot about Adventurers.”

“Only that they’re boring,” Scott said dolefully. “Gods, all they do is walk in and out, in and out. Every so often one will do something interesting, like the young lady who tried poking my armor in hopes I’d giggle, yet they pass like clouds. There one goes. Aaaand they’re gone.”

“Did you giggle?” Glenn asked. “When that lady poked you?”

“I sorely wanted to, just to watch her react. Sadly, Kya allows no such mirth.”

“I suppose not,” Glenn said doubtfully. If any Adventurers started poking him, he’d simply have to be as stoic as he could manage.

“Uh oh,” Scott said cheerily, as he turned his gaze toward the Deepscorn Woods. “Looks like someone’s in over their head.”

Glenn’s gaze snapped to the woods, which ran perpendicular to the Safe Road. He spotted a distant figure in a ripped cloak as they stumbled at an unsteady pace. He carried only a worn [Commoner’s Club], suggesting he was a young and inexperienced Adventurer.

And he was being harried by a Gloamwolf.

Glenn immediately stepped forward and readied his mace, yet the moment he started to walk forward, Scott thumped an arm into Glenn’s chest. “Hold! Steady, boy.”

“He’s in trouble,” Glenn said.

“And he’s not within fifty paces of the town walls,” Scott said evenly. “Remember our duty. We defend Wolfpine and those who travel to her, but only once the person being harried by Monsters steps within fifty paces of the walls.”

“But he might—”

“What he might or might not do is in his hands and of the Gods he’s challenged,” Scott interrupted, sounding far more serious than he had before. “If you step more than fifty paces from the walls without an Adventurer to save or a Quest from the mayor, the Gods will turn to salt.”

Glenn swallowed. He’d known everything Scott just said, of course. He’d thought to have the rules sculpted in his head. Yet the moment he saw someone in trouble, those rules flew out the window.

He really could meet the forever death, so easily, simply because he’d wandered too far from the town walls. He’d never had oblivion loom so close before. Glenn had never truly felt the desire to break the rules of the Gods until now ... the day he couldn’t help someone.

The Gloamwolf lunged, savaging the fleeing Adventurer’s calf. Blood spilled and the man almost went down, tattered cloak flailing in the wind and hiding his features. Yet the now wounded man struggled on as Glenn stared futilely, and desperately, and ached to go to his aid.

“Steady,” Scott warned. “He’s going to make it. I feel good about this one.”

The Gloamwolf lunged again, but this time, it got a [Commoner’s Club] to its face for its trouble. The Gloamwolf’s Heath Bar immediately appeared, a long green bar with a bit charred. Yet it still had more than enough health to defeat the tired Adventurer it harried.

“Steady,” Scott said.

The man stumbled on.

“Steady.”

The man almost went down again. Glenn stepped forward, gripping his mace so hard it hurt.

“Steady,” Scott said grimly.

The man put on one last burst of speed, and then, as the man’s leading foot slammed down within fifty paces of the town walls, Glenn heard a voice he’d never heard before. A voice that was otherworldly and inside his head. The voice of a Goddess.

“Protect her,” Kya, Goddess of Duty, boomed inside his head.

Glenn charged, and the world passed in a fevered blur. Yet he didn’t even wait until he got close. He shouted his new Skill as loud as he could.

"[-Fight Me-!]!"

Thanks to his [Fleet Boots], it took ten steps, not fifty, before he found himself almost stumbling across the tired Adventurer.

The Gloamwolf went from crafty to crazed. It turned from its original target and came at Glenn as a slavering rush of fangs and fur. Glenn set his stance and lowered his weight, raising his shield. The wolf pounced and clanged off. It scrambled around as Glenn swung desperately, clumsily.

He’d used a sword for two years now, in both hands, and hadn’t trained to fight with a shield and mace. He really needed to practice with a shield and mace. Yet the moment his first flailing strike impacted beneath the Gloamwolf’s chin, the Monster literally flew into the air.

Glenn had a brief glimpse of its head collapsing before the whole Gloamwolf burst into purple ash. A single Life Crystal gleamed in the sunlight as it fell, rolled, and stopped.

That had been a clumsy strike, yet it had absolutely wrecked that Gloamwolf. One hit. It had only taken one hit. The Gods truly had blessed him with Their power.

Glenn spun to check on the Adventurer, who he found panting paces distant. He raised his shield arm without thinking and pointed at the cloaked figure.

“[-Flash Heal-]!”

A tingle he’d never felt before rushed through his body and out through his palm. He remembered, now, that he’d never cast a ranged Skill before. So this was what that felt like. While the bloody tear in the man’s pants didn’t heal, Glenn did see the flesh of the wound mending.

As his Skill took effect, the man’s Health Bar automatically became visible. That Health Bar was far larger and longer than Glenn expected, and despite the man’s staggering gait, his Health Bar was scarcely charred. Glenn saw a tiny bit of char that vanished, but nothing else.

That Health Bar was way too long to belong to a low Level Adventurer who’d flee from a single Gloamwolf. And as the “Adventurer” pulled back his hood and straightened to his full height ... she straightened to hers.

It wasn’t man. It was Joanne Dewcrest, short blond-red hair and all, and she was grinning at him.

Glenn stared at Joanne, who was entirely not in danger. “Where’s your armor?”

Joanne tossed off her cloak to reveal a baggy [Commoner’s Shirt] with one sleeve ripped. “That would have made this training exercise rather pointless. So what did we learn today?”

Glenn breathed out, still flush with adrenaline. “This was a test.”

“Not simply a test,” Joanne said. Her grin faded as she sobered. “A dress rehearsal. And don’t think we went to all the effort of giving me an official Quest from the mayor to stumble back into town because we don’t think you’re not up to task. We all experienced a similar dress rehearsal on our first day. Though typically it comes later, after you’re tired, so it’s more mentally challenging.”

“It is early,” Glenn agreed. “I just got here.”

“What can I say, I had plans. But you passed, Glenn.”

“I almost didn’t,” he said ruefully. “I almost took off to save you the moment you showed up.”

Joanne’s grin faded. “Which is why none of us is ever left to tackle this job alone. My first day on the job, Logain had to physically restrain me from saving my beleaguered ‘Adventurer’. If not for the captain’s patience and Strength, I’d be seasoning a steak right now.”

Glenn believed her. He knew exactly how she’d felt that day because it was how he’d felt when he’d seen her fleeing that Gloamwolf. Could he really just watch and ... not help?

“Remember this lesson,” Joanne said. “You can’t save them until they’re fifty paces from the walls. It’s going to be very hard to watch, some days, but that’s life in Balarel.”

She was right, of course. If Town Guards could range too far beyond the walls, there would be no challenge for Adventurers. Even so ... Glenn knew this part of his charge might be the most difficult yet.