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Kael rolled out of the inn's bed, the morning air biting at his skin. Being alone in the room sucked—it felt cold, empty, and functionally inefficient.
This was the tax for bringing the Young Lady along. She was so paranoid that the Witch would pull a "midnight maneuver" on Kael that she'd insisted on sharing a room with her. She'd spent the night with her eyes pinned open, guarding the Witch like a hawk over a mouse. The result? The Witch was a yawning ss by breakfast, and the Young Lady had enough red streaks in her eyes to look like she'd just done a high-end combat drug.
After a quiet breakfast, the trio headed to the Adventurers Guild. In this kingdom, the Guild had evolved from a simple tavern into a massive interdiary platform. It handled everything from rank evaluations to recruitnt for the crown.
The guild was a lting pot of civilizations. Here, the usual racial friction of the kingdom was put on ice. Humans made up the majority, but demi-humans—the "outcasts" of the frontier—found common ground in the hunt.
"Welco. How can the Guild assist a Knight of your standing?" the receptionist asked. She was a long-haired, chestnut-haired beauty and easily the most popular face in the building.
Kael produced his Knight's dal, which granted him high-tier intel access and a 20% discount on fees. "I need everything you have on the Griffin in the Misty Forest."
The receptionist returned quickly with a scroll. "Two days ago, a team spotted it near the heart of the forest. They believe they found the nest."
Kael and the Witch moved to a private booth. The intel was clinical: the target was an adult male. More importantly, its hunting frequency had spiked. A Griffin only hunts this aggressively when it's feeding a mate who is gestating.
"If there are hatchlings, we move now," Kael said. "Taming a fledgling is a better long-term investnt than breaking an adult."
As they prepared to leave, a reckless rookie slamd into Kael's side. The boy stumbled, falling flat on his face. He scrambled up, trying to play it cool despite his bruised pride.
"Are you alright?" Kael asked, looking at the boy's clear, foolish eyes. This was a fresh spawn, straight out of the academy.
"I'm fine! Totally fine!" the boy laughed nervously.
"Pay attention to your surroundings next ti," Kael advised. "Gravity is a mild teacher. A magical beast won't be so gentle."
The boy watched Kael go, his eyes full of aspiration. Behind him, his teammates arrived: a Mage and a Brawler, both looking equally green.
"We're clearing a Goblin nest! They kidnapped so girls from the village," the boy shouted, his sense of justice redlining.
Kael stopped. "The three of you? Against a nest?"
"Don't look down on us! She's a graduate of the Sage Academy!" the boy countered, pushing the nervous mage forward.
The Young Lady scoffed, her eyes scanning their gear. "Poverty" was the only word for it. No plate armor, the brawler was bare-handed, and the mage looked like she'd faint if a Goblin sneezed on her.
"Stick to giant rats and cockroaches, kids," Kael said, patting the boy's shoulder. "Magical beasts aren't a ga."
Deep in the Misty Forest, a piercing, falcon-like shriek tore through the canopy.
A Griffin—a magnificent creature with the golden plumage of an eagle and the powerful torso of a lion—was struggling against a heavy rope net. It stood three ters tall, its eight-ter wingspan currently pinned to the forest floor.
Two veteran Adventurer teams had set the trap using a horse as bait. They had ten n in total, all watching the beast with greedy eyes.
"The male is ours, as agreed," one captain said, eyeing the other team warily. They had already "convinced" a third team to leave the forest, establishing a local monopoly on the hunt.
An archer fired arrows coated in paralytics, but they rely stuck in the creature's thick hide. High-level magical beasts have a biological immunity to toxins that these mid-tier hunters didn't understand.
The Griffin was intelligent. It stopped struggling, letting its body go limp. The hunters took this as a sign that the anesthesia was working. They relaxed.
In a blur of motion, the Griffin contracted its muscles and surged toward the opening of the net. Before the teams could react, it beat its massive wings, generating a hurricane-force gust that knocked the n flat.
The Griffin took to the sky, its eyes burning like jewels as it looked down at its prey.
"Retreat! MOVE NOW!" the captain scread.
But a furious Griffin doesn't do "retreat."
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