Hibana stood before the village of Stonewatch.His trusty short sword hung at his side — a tool he hoped he wouldn't have to use. As he stepped back into the settlement, a few of the locals gave him strange looks.
"Is my tail sticking out or something?" he wondered, adjusting the green cloak around his shoulders.
He kept walking, boots crunching softly against the dirt road, until the familiar sight of the Adventurer's Guild came into view.
The receptionist still had the same bored look on her face — until she caught sight of Hibana walking up to the counter. A few adventurers nearby shifted in their seats, heads turning. Eyes widened.
The receptionist straightened in surprise, her voice catching slightly. "Y-You're back!"
Hibana placed his hands on the counter, steady and deliberate. "I'll forgive you for sending me on a mission you didn't think I'd survive. But the job's done. The Lizardfolk have scattered. Their chief's gone, and I defeated their champion."
The receptionist looked him up and down, her mouth slightly agape. "You… defeated them? But there's not a mark on you."
Hibana smiled — calm, measured. "I assure you, everything I've told you is the truth. I don't have any physical evidence to provide. And I will even forgo the reward until you can send scouts to confirm what I've said."
There was a long pause.
Then, slowly, she gave a stiff nod and glanced up toward the stairs that led to the Guildmaster's office.
"Please wait here," she said, her voice quieter than before. "I'll need to confer with the Guildmaster on how to handle this."
Hibana dipped his head once, then turned and leaned against a nearby post — one of the thick, worn supports that helped hold the building together. The wood was old, nicked by years of boots, blades, and careless shoulders. It creaked softly under his weight.
He kept his gaze low, fixed somewhere near his own boots.
But he could feel them — all of them.
Dozens of eyes. Curious. Suspicious. Unnerved.
The laughter and chatter that had once filled the guildhall had faded into a strained silence. Mugs hovered half-raised, dice left unrolled. Adventurers who had mocked him days before now stared across the room like they were trying to solve a riddle that shouldn't exist.
An F-tier. Level One.
And yet here he stood — alive, unharmed, and claiming victory over a tribe of Lizardfolk that had bested far better men.
Hibana said nothing. He didn't meet their eyes.
But he felt the weight of their questions.
The receptionist returned and gave a slight bow. "Please follow me."
Hibana nodded and trailed her up the stairs to the guildmaster's office. She gestured for him to enter, then addressed the man within. "This is him, Sir."
The guildmaster stood facing the window, hands clasped behind his back. He didn't turn.
"Shut the door. Leave us."
The receptionist obeyed without a word, the door clicking shut behind her.
When the guildmaster finally turned around, Hibana saw a man forged by years of duty — middle-aged, bald, with a short, well-kept beard and a couple of old scars crossing his face like forgotten warnings. He was built like a warhorse: burly, broad-shouldered, and steady.
He wore finely crafted leather armor dyed a soft, worn blue — practical, but marked by care. Draped over it was a tabard bearing the emblem of the Adventurer's Guild: a pair of crossed swords, with a scroll at the center, all encased within a bronze-colored disk. The symbol gleamed faintly in the filtered light — part authority, part promise.
Then the guildmaster's gray eyes locked onto Hibana — sharp, cold, and calculating.
Hibana felt the familiar sensation of the appraisal spell brushing against him. The Guildmaster's eyes narrowed, the glow of the spell fading.
"F-tier. Level one. Not a lick of XP... fascinating."
The Guildmaster stepped away from the window, crossing the room with steady, unhurried steps. His gray eyes never left Hibana.
"My name is Karthas," he said, his voice as gravelly as the worn stone floor beneath them. "And you are called Hibana. A rather strange name for a man."
He came to a stop in front of his desk, arms crossing over his broad chest. Scars traced his face — not fresh, but deep, old things earned the hard way. His leather armor creaked softly as he moved, dyed a distinctive light blue. A bronze disk adorned his chest, the symbol of the Adventurer's Guild emblazoned on the tabard: a pair of crossed swords with a scroll nestled between them.
"Tell me," Karthas said, voice sharp, "did you truly fulfill that quest?"
Hibana nodded once. "I did."
Karthas studied him. "How?"
Hibana hesitated. "With my weapon," he replied at last.
The Guildmaster's stare darkened, unamused. "Trade secret, huh?"
"You could say that."
Karthas grunted and walked behind his desk. "And if I send scouts to those ruins? What will they find?"
"Ruins," Hibana answered plainly. "The remnants of a Lizardfolk encampment. Perhaps a few stragglers, but not their chief. I dealt with him. And I defeated their champion. That was enough to make the rest scatter."
Silence fell. Karthas leaned on the desk, drumming his fingers along its surface.
"Four adventurers," he said at last. "Veterans. They were found dead not far from where your quest took place. Their trail ends in the cursed lands. Blood, broken steel, and silence."
He looked up sharply.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Hibana didn't blink.
"I have heard of them, yes."
He paused, choosing his words with care.
"I heard they were killed... by a warrior. And a dragon."
Karthas tilted his head slightly. A thin smile crept onto his face, more curiosity than mirth.
"A tale with teeth," he said. "Conveniently vague. Poetically true."
Hibana remained silent.
Karthas leaned back in his chair. "You choose your words like someone who's learned the cost of honesty."
"I've had to."
The Guildmaster nodded, folding his arms.
"You're not lying. I can tell. But you're not telling the whole truth either. That bothers me. But you came back. And you brought peace to those ruins — at least, for now."
He opened a drawer and pulled out a parchment folder. The seal was bronze.
"This came from the capital," he said, sliding it across the desk. "Not standard guild work."
Hibana opened it.
WANTED: THE GHOST OF THE FOREST ALIAS: UNKNOWN REWARD: 10,000 GOLD COINS DEAD OR ALIVE
Priority Status: ALIVE
Target is responsible for multiple attacks on supply routes, raids on minor noble estates, and incitement of unrest among rural settlements. Known to operate from within the Deepwoods surrounding Solarsa. The Church of Ordos has declared this target a heretic.
Hibana's eyes flicked over the paper, then back to Karthas.
"The Church," he murmured. "Who is Ordos? Perhaps Solryn or Tsu can tell me," he thought.
Karthas replied. "This man — whoever he is — he's shaking things. Making people ask questions. The wrong people."
He tapped the edge of the desk.
"And here you are — an F-tier with no kills to your name, no XP, no party, and somehow you come back with a completed mission no one expected you to survive."
Karthas met Hibana's eyes.
"You're not normal. And I don't need normal. I need results."
He slid the bounty toward Hibana.
"I want you to take this. Not because I think you'll win. Not because I think you're ready. But because something tells me... the Ghost and you are on a collision course."
He stood again, voice firm.
"And when it happens — only one of you walks away."
Hibana looked down at the parchment.
Then back up.
"Alright," he said. "I'll take it."
Karthas gave a satisfied nod.
"Then I'll consider this your first official mission as a real adventurer, Hibana."
He paused.
"Finally... something a little different for a change."
Hibana looked over the parchment again. It didn't mention where the Ghost of the Forest might be found — just the name, the bounty, and the words wanted alive if possible. For ten thousand gold, he hadn't expected it to be easy. He lowered the paper and looked up.
"Is there anything else?"
The Guildmaster folded his arms. "See the receptionist for your payment. But one final thing — this is personal."
He stepped around the desk, his expression tightening just slightly. "I haven't seen my best Bloodhound in almost three weeks. His name is Kurt. If you happen to come across him in your travels, I want to know immediately. I sent him on a mission to track down a dangerous monster, and he hasn't reported back."
Hibana almost froze.
Kurt... it has to be him. That man I fought on the road — the one who nearly exposed me.
He forced his voice to remain even. "If I see him, I'll let you know."
"Good," said Karthas. "I am a man who likes results. And if I get results, I'm satisfied. I don't care how you pulled this off. A level one F-tier human…" He let out a dry chuckle. "Damndest thing I've seen in years."
He leaned forward slightly, those sharp gray eyes pinning Hibana in place.
"Continue to get me results, and you'll go far in this guild, boy."
Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Now, if you'll excuse me — I have other pressing matters to attend to."
Hibana gave a polite nod, then turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Downstairs, the receptionist barely glanced up as he approached.
He handed her the sealed envelope. She opened it, scanned the contents, and gave a short nod before disappearing into the back.
A moment later, she returned carrying a metal tray, which she set on the counter with a dull clink. Resting atop it was a modest leather pouch.
"Here's your reward," she said, voice still flat.
Hibana took the pouch and tucked it into his satchel without ceremony.
"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild," the receptionist added, not even trying to sound enthusiastic.
Hibana gave a short nod and turned to leave, stepping back out into the light of Stonewatch.
Hibana's journey back through the barrier of the Fae Wilds was quiet, but exhausting. By the time he reached the clearing, the last of his polymorph magic was fraying at the edges. He allowed the transformation to drop, scales unfurling as he shifted back into his true form. The weight of his wings returned — heavy, familiar, comforting.
He placed the leather pouch of gold inside a wooden hutch the Kobolds had built for him, then wandered back out into the heart of the camp and sat down to observe.
The Lizardfolk were starting to build. Crude frames of stone and timber were being assembled near the treeline. He watched as they moved with practiced discipline — no chatter, no waste. Just focus.
It made him smile.
Solryn wandered over, arms crossed, cloak billowing faintly in the breeze.
"So, what's the plan for all that gold?" he asked, voice dry.
Hibana glanced at him. "Supplies, of course. This place still needs tools, seeds, better gear. And I still owe you — for the sword, and everything else you gave me."
Solryn waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it." His eyes drifted toward the Lizardfolk. "You really think this is going to last?"
Hibana didn't answer right away. He followed Solryn's gaze — watched the Lizardfolk lift beams into place while Kobolds scrambled nearby, dragging rope and bundles of brush.
Solryn sighed. "It won't. You know that, right? The barrier won't keep others out forever. And these two groups?" He gestured with a thumb. "They hate each other. They've hated each other for generations. It'll end in blood. Mark my words."
"I know," Hibana said softly. "But that's why it has to work."
He turned his eyes back toward the camp — to Dundru telling stories by the fire, to Zerrusha inspecting a pile of gathered stones, to Tsu sharpening her blade in silence beneath the tree.
"I'm going to make this place into something real. A home for anyone who needs one."
Solryn snorted. "Oh? Got a name picked out for your little utopia?"
"I do," Hibana said. "Hearthflame."
Solryn blinked. "Hearthflame?"
Hibana nodded. "It's more than a camp now. It deserves a name."
Solryn rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Wonderful. He's named it. Now we're really doomed."
Hibana chuckled and looked up at the stars beginning to peek through the canopy. The scent of cooking fires and tilled earth lingered in the air. For a moment, he let himself breathe.
Then, more seriously: "I have a question for you, Solryn."
Solryn quirked an eyebrow. "That's never a good sign."
Hibana's eyes drifted toward the fire again — where the younger Kobolds had gathered, listening in rapt silence to Dundru's tales.
He spoke quietly.
"Who is Ordos?"