After a brief silence, the boy sighed, as if resolving to drop his earlier tone. He then spoke in a more formal voice:
"Forgive us for not introducing ourselves sooner. We are the New Victory Squad. My name is Margola, the team leader. These are my companions—Quartz, Deizla, and that girl in the back is..."
He paused, thinking, then turned toward the hesitant girl and asked:
"What was your name again?"
The question surprised everyone. The girl tried to speak, but the sudden shift of everyone's attention toward her only made her more flustered. Still, she gathered her courage and stammered:
"M-my name is... C-Catherine Santide."
"Yes, that's it!" Margola confirmed, and continued:
"In any case, we've come from the royal capital to carry out a request made specifically to us by a noble."
He paused, his eyes gleaming with pride, then added:
"The request concerns eliminating the monster threatening the safety of the people in this region—the Rotten Tree Beast!"
As soon as the name was spoken, a cold shiver rippled through the adventurers. Shock spread across their faces, followed by a sudden uproar, as if a massive stone had been tossed into still waters. Whispers rose and tangled, quickly turning into overlapping voices—some filled with surprise, others with excitement.
Laughter broke out among the crowd, mixed with relief, as if the announcement signaled the end of a long nightmare. One adventurer lightly patted his companion on the shoulder, smiling as he said:
"Finally! We'll be safe from disease season!"
In contrast to the varied reactions, Ace remained composed. He simply said:
"I see."
He spoke the words flatly, without admiration—just two dry syllables, yet they stung like a slap across the room. Especially for Margola, who felt as if the ground had shifted beneath him. For a moment, his confidence wavered, the aura of superiority he had constructed faltering. But he didn't allow himself to spiral into confusion.
Quickly regaining his composure, he spoke again, this time with a more respectful tone, as if Ace's words had compelled him to reassess his approach:
"We also heard from a passing adventurer that you slew a black demon rabbit. Is that true?"
Ace nodded in confirmation. The boy's eyes lit up with intrigue, and he said:
"That's truly impressive! My interest in you just grew. Listen, I won't drag this out—what do you say to joining us on our mission to slay that beast?"
The words fell like a thunderclap. Faces twisted into frowns, astonishment spread, and discontent flickered in others' expressions.
Some eyes brimmed with envy. They silently questioned how such an offer could be made to a novice adventurer while more experienced and powerful ones were overlooked. How was such an honor extended to someone who hadn't yet proven themselves with achievements or a reputation?
Amid the rising turmoil, Ace maintained a neutral expression. He raised an eyebrow slightly, then asked in a calm and serious voice:
"Excuse me, but I don't understand. Why would seasoned adventurers want to bring a beginner along on such a dangerous mission? There are many better options here with more experience. I only became an adventurer two days ago."
The boy's eyes gleamed with cunning, and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips. He said:
"It's not so strange. We're simply trying to invest in a rising talent. You see, our profession rarely sees individuals who stand out. If you can prove yourself, your rise from Iron Rank to Silver would just be a matter of time. In fact, we'd even guarantee you a special recommendation from the capital."
After his statement, Margola stared intently at Ace, as if trying to catch a hint of interest in his eyes. In the background, whispers resumed among the adventurers, slowly growing into a buzz. It was highly unusual for the leader of a prestigious team to extend a direct invitation to a rookie, even one with a few accomplishments. The moment stirred astonishment, concern, and curiosity.
In the midst of the noise, one adventurer—who had been the first to welcome the squad upon their arrival—stepped forward, raised his hand, and spoke in a voice tinged with concern:
"Excuse me, Sir Margola, but don't you think taking a novice on such a perilous mission might not be the wisest decision?"
His words expressed clear objection, but they were also laced with sincere respect. Before Margola could respond, another voice rose—this time female, from the reception desk. The staff member who had assisted Ace had finally broken her silence. She spoke in a voice full of nervous courage:
"T-that's true! This is a high-level mission. The Rotten Tree Beast is extremely dangerous. Many have entered the Great Forest to face it. Few returned, and those who did often fell ill and couldn't continue their paths. This mission might suit you gentlemen, as elites, but please, reconsider."
Her voice carried genuine concern—not just a casual warning, but a plea born of past experience. Everyone understood her anxiety. The beast wasn't just a monster—it was a walking curse, a creature that could strike fear into the hearts of the bravest.
Tension heightened, and all eyes turned to Margola, who remained silent. For a brief moment, his features tensed, the corner of his lip curled, as if he had tasted something bitter. A flash of disgust flickered in his eyes—perhaps directed at those around him. That fleeting moment did not go unnoticed, and the others exchanged uncertain glances, unsure whether what they saw in the boy's face was real or imagined.
Then, calmly, Margola pointed at the monster on the ground and spoke in a steady voice, free of hesitation:
"Ladies and gentlemen, tell me—could a novice adventurer bring down a beast like this, alone?"
No one answered. Silence prevailed. The boy crossed his arms over his chest and continued with increasing confidence:
"If any of you can kill a Camouflaged Dragon fire Beast on your own, step forward. I'll suggest you join us instead."
His argument was irrefutable. No one dared dispute it—each person knew their own limits. In the face of silence, Margola offered a sideways smile and said in a calm but resolute tone:
"Listen carefully. You're right—the mission is dangerous. No one can guarantee anyone's safety—not even ours. But at the end of the day, serving our kingdom takes precedence."
His final words sparked a wave of excitement and admiration among the adventurers. Cheers erupted from one, then another, spreading through the group—except for a few who either doubted the idea entirely or were too bitter to express themselves.
Amid the commotion, Margola turned his gaze back to Ace, his eyes sharp as a blade. Then, in a firm voice that left no room for doubt, he said:
"You are free to accept or refuse our offer. We leave tomorrow morning. We'll be waiting here. Please, consider your decision carefully."
After saying that, he turned toward Catherine—the hesitant girl—and nodded for her to approach. When she did, he asked her to tend to the young man's minor wounds and burns. She nodded nervously, stepped closer to Ace, and raised her small scepter. She began murmuring softly, and soon a golden light shimmered from her staff. The glow enveloped Ace's body, causing him to shine as well, a sight that astonished everyone, including Ace himself, who hadn't expected such a reaction. He could feel his burns fading away, healing one after another. The sensation unsettled him. He wanted to ask the girl to stop, but it was already too late.
The glow vanished. At that moment, it became clear to Ace and everyone watching that all of his surface injuries had been completely healed. Ace's face carried a mix of surprise and an unreadable trace of disappointment.
Then, Margola turned around and began to walk away, followed by the rest of his group. The hesitant girl gave Ace a worried glance before following them. Her look silently urged him to refuse the offer. Silence settled over the room until the group exited. Then one of the adventurers muttered sarcastically under his breath:
"Well… I didn't expect all that when visiting them."
Another chimed in:
"Damn! Seems like we shouldn't have bothered cleaning the place up. No matter what we do, we're nothing compared to the guilds in the capital."
Despite these sarcastic and disgruntled remarks, the adventurers exchanged glances filled with questions. A shared sense of inferiority crept into the atmosphere—they had tried to beautify their humble guild, but it still paled in comparison to the storied and powerful guilds of the capital. Moments later, several adventurers approached Ace. Their looks were no longer mocking, but rather concerned. One of them said:
"Listen closely, whatever we think of you, it doesn't change the fact that we sincerely want to give you some advice. Think carefully before making your decision. That mission is extremely dangerous. You might not return."
Right after, another voice—sharper and feminine—cut in:
"That's right. Even seasoned adventurers avoid confronting that monster. It's not just a beast—it's a walking disaster."
The silence deepened as they waited for Ace's response. They hoped he'd abandon what they saw as a suicide mission. In that moment, a strange feeling crept into his chest—he saw pure sincerity in their eyes, something he hadn't expected. From the moment he arrived, all they'd done was mock him. But now, they showed genuine concern for his life. They weren't driven by envy, but by something simpler—an honest desire to see him safe.
Faced with such heartfelt emotion, Ace smiled—a smile that melted away any lingering resentment they held toward him. That smile let them see a different side of him, one that warmed their hearts and made them look away, afraid their expressions might betray them. Then, his voice came—calm and firm:
"Thank you all for your concern. I'll think carefully before making my decision."
After that, the adventurers returned to their tasks. Some began taking down the carefully arranged decorations, while others moved the furniture around in a more relaxed, disordered fashion, as if erasing the remnants of a dream that hadn't come true. It was a quiet surrender to a harsh reality: no matter how much they tried to improve it, their guild would always be a modest place in a distant town.
Ace then turned to the receptionist and asked in a low voice:
"Do you have any information about the bounty on that monster?"
Her face showed signs of displeasure. She hadn't expected that to be his first concern after all the warnings. She sighed, then looked at him closely before leaning slightly closer and asking in a soft voice:
"Are you thinking of accepting their offer?"
There was a note of clear concern in her voice—not the concern of an employee doing her job, but personal worry, the kind a woman feels for a young man. Her tone grew more intense, as if trying to make him understand the gravity of the situation:
"That monster is unlike any other. It's the second most powerful creature in the Great Forest after the Giant Ogre. No one who has faced it has survived."
Her words felt like a closing door, urging him to turn back. Yet, despite everything she said, there was no hesitation in Ace's eyes. On the contrary, something changed in him. As soon as he heard the name "Giant Ogre," a kind of serene surprise appeared on his face—expressions far from fear or anxiety. They were not what she would have expected from anyone hearing that terrifying name.
It was as if he had heard something comforting, something that made him more certain of what he was going to do. The name that struck fear into the hearts of other adventurers was, to him, simply a unit of measurement—a way to gauge the danger he would face.