The guildhall is nothing less than the most lively area I’ve ever seen. It’s what I imagine a bar would look like.

Oh wait, that’s right, they have one in the commons area.

People are drinking, having arm wrestling bouts, comparing weapons, and generally enjoying themselves. There are parties scouting around, obviously looking to recruit people for quests that they’ve accepted. A couple of guys are even fighting in the very back of the bar, the people surrounding them placing side bets with other guild members. I also notice that a few weaker looking individuals were being harassed by people much bigger than them, but that’s their business and not mine.

It’s midday.

I can only imagine what this place looks like at night.

Trying to ignore the commotion, I try to make my way to the bulletin board. Much like the one back at Kralbed, it is also completely covered in requests. However, I notice a distinct lack of D-rank quests here, most of the available ones being B-rank or higher. That’s such a huge jump.

Were the monsters of this area really that much more daunting than the one I was in? I start to become a little worried.

This meant that most of the people here were of a much higher caliber, and I didn’t have much of a way to sneak up on them. I shake my head.

Starting to read the listings, I noticed that what I heard earlier from the man at the store was true. The vast majority of the quests were some sort of kill quest, and almost every last one of them was in the mountains to the north of the city. That’s a great distance no matter how you look at it.

Though it’ll be more difficult to fight the actual adventurers, at least I won’t have to worry about getting caught if I succeed. We’ll be a long way off from home.

I smile to myself, thankful for the good news. I turn to leave the guild.

As I near the door, a large shadow overcomes and then passes me. A large man that wasn't standing there before had now made it obvious that he wasn't just going to let me leave. My thoughts drift to the adventurers getting harassed earlier.

I then remember what I thought during that exact moment.

I'm going to receive no help.

I look the man up and down; mostly up if I'm being totally honest. His hair is mop of red and his beard is just as long. He’s wearing a black sleeveless shirt and somewhat baggy pants. He’s maybe a full fifteen centimeters taller than me, and he absolutely reeks with the scent of cheap alcohol. He starts to have a chat with me, and his offensive breath doesn't make the conversation very pleasant.

“Hey little buddy, I haven’t seen you around before. Whatcha doin’ in such a dangerous place?”

The man talks down to me. I don’t understand what he gets from doing this.

“I’m just here to fulfill kill quests, just like you”, I respond, banking my reply off of his gruff appearance. He certainly looks like a guy who only does kill quests.

The man starts to laugh, as though what I just said was humorous. He begins to pat my head, but I swat his large hand away.

“What are you gonna kill with a mana source that weak? You’ve gotta be joking, right?” The man sprays spit into my face while he talks.

Ah, that’s what he meant.

Yes, my mana pool is certainly small. There’s a reason why I only ever cast the one freezing spell, and that was because I needed it to live. The preservation of meat made my life significantly easier, previously.

However, it actually exhausts every last bit of my magical resource, and it’s a lesser spell to boot. Everyone uses mana as some sort of battle advantage, whether it be empowerment in warriors, speed in assassins, or spell scale in mages. To have less of it was simply a huge disadvantage in most cases.

I’ve been able to get by on strictly combat techniques, though, and I didn’t have any reason to believe that they would stop working anytime soon. I’ve had 384 years to practice, after all.

If it bleeds, I can kill it.

That aside, people can actually detect things like mana levels up here? Scary.

Still pisses me off that he’s mocking me, though. I attempt to control my anger, knowing I can’t make a scene here. I begin to walk away. The man wastes no time in shouting basic observations of my actions, just like I would’ve expected.

“Ha! Look at him go! He’s leaving now!” He points at me while looking at a few spectating adventurers. They’re also laughing.

I ignore him. It’s not worth my time.

A couple of parties around him begin to join in on the fun, jeering at me. I let their insults run off of me like water. None of their words matter, they’re just humans. Humans like to run their mouths a lot, so I really shouldn’t be surprised that this was happening. I grip the handle of the leftmost double door to the exit of the guild.

And then, I hear something I don’t like.

“Run home to mama! A little bitch raised by his bitch of a mother!”

I stop midway through the door frame.

Yeah, I really don’t like that.

My heartbeat grows loud, and the pounding of blood in my ears rages like a river. “I would have you take that back”, I growl. The skin on my knuckles grows white with how hard I'm clenching my fist. My vision starts to bleed into red.

“Oh, he got angry! He actually got angry! He’s a mama’s boy too! How funny!”

Immediately after having said that, the man walks up to me, standing within a couple of centimeters. He towers over me and looks down like he was staring at an insect.

“And what if I don’t take it back? What will ya do then?” The man taunts me.

I smile from beneath my hood, like simply the idea of what I would do was the most pleasant thing I could possibly think of. The figure on the black stone just couldn’t resist smiling with me.

Do it.

My body fills with a strength I’ve never felt before.

I strain my right arm and it fills to the brink with power. I throw a punch into the man’s abdomen.

It sends him flying through several wooden tables, knocking over every adventurer in his path. The man crashes into the bar at the end of the room and all the bottles behind it shatter, spraying their contents onto nearby patrons. The bartender screams.

I face the other parties that had joined in on his little stunt. They're not so energetic anymore.

“You’re next”.