Inside the splintered remains of The Tipsy Hydra, Riko stood before the owner, a large, bald man with a kind, weathered face named Olav. She pushed a heavy pouch of coins across the dusty bar. He just kept shaking his head, his arms crossed over his barrel chest.
"Please, take it," Riko insisted, her voice soft but firm. "This damage will be expensive to repair. I am partially responsible."
Olav let out a warm, rumbling chuckle that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards. He was a retired B-Class adventurer himself and had seen his share of tavern brawls, but nothing quite like this. He gently pushed the pouch back towards her. "Absolutely not, lass. That brute Ronan is a Holy Knight; the kingdom is legally required to pay for any damages he causes in one of his fits of pique. It's one of the few perks of living under their shiny boots." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You, on the other hand," he said, breaking into a wide, toothy grin, "did something this whole city has been wanting to do for years. You did more for this town's morale by kicking his ass than a month's worth of successful quests. You've earned a drink, not a bill."
Lyra, who had miraculously recovered her senses, threw a cheerful arm around Riko's shoulders. "See? He gets it! The man's a genius!" Riko felt a genuine, small smile touch her own lips, the warmth of her friend's presence and the owner's unexpected kindness chasing away some of the lingering chill from the fight.
"We should totally go drinking again to celebrateâ" Lyra began, her sense of timing as impeccable as ever.
Riko instantly clamped a hand over Lyra's mouth, offering Olav a knowing, nervous smile that the big man returned with a hearty laugh.
It was then that the S-rank party approached, their expressions a mixture of awe, respect, and a nervous energy that was almost palpable. The leader, the man with the greatsword, cleared his throat. This is it, he thought, his heart pounding a little faster than heâd like to admit. I'm about to invite the most wanted person on the continent into my party. This is either the smartest or the stupidest thing I've ever done. He looked at his companions, saw their determined nods, and took a breath.
"That was... amazing. Truly," he said, his voice steady. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone beat a Holy Knight, let alone humiliate one like that." He was practically buzzing with excitement, his gratitude for her actions clear.
Riko's smile brightened. "Thanks. But I couldn't have done it without your support. Hearing you cheer me on... it helped."
The three adventurers blushed slightly at the praise, a silent, shared look passing between them before they all looked expectantly at their leader. He caught their expressions and cleared his throat again, shifting his weight. "Right. Well, if you wouldn't mind... My party and I were talking. There are only three of us, and we've been looking for a dedicated mage and a true sword specialist for months. With your skills⦠we could form a full party."
The offer hung in the air, thick with possibility and danger. Riko paused, her smile fading as she processed the words. She considered the immense implications. Anyone who partied with her would become a target. Their names would be added to the King's blacklists. They would become fugitives, hunted for the rest of their lives. It was a death sentence. But as she looked at them, her Kokugan perceived nothing but sincere, hopeful, and excited auras. The outlines of their forms were steady and bright, with no flickering lines of deceit or greed. They knew the risk and were extending the offer anyway. After a lifetime of being an outcast, of being alone⦠could this be a place to belong?
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"I don't even know your names yet," she said, her voice low but playful, her decision made. "But if you introduce yourselves... I'll have no choice but to say yes."
The biggest of the three, the brute, playfully punched the leader's shoulder, the impact making him stumble. "See? You forgot to introduce us. Some leader you are."
They all shared a relieved laugh. The leader stuck out his hand, his lean but muscular build evident in his confident posture. "My name's Finn. My Crest is Bastionâa simple one, it lets me reinforce my body and my gear to take a hard hit."
The brute puffed out his chest, his visible muscles seeming to strain the leather of his armor. He had a surprisingly friendly, if punchable, face, with bright red hair tied back in a bun. "I'm Kaelen!" he declared. "My Crest is Ironhide. The more hits I take, the stronger I get! I'm the best meat shield in the business!"
The last member of the group, a slender young man with striking blue hair and equally striking blue eyes, struck a dramatic pose. "And I am Noel," he said with a theatrical smirk. "My Crest is the Architect's Eye. It lets me see the blueprint of any object, so I can find its flaws... or, more importantly, make it better." He winked. "And, in my humble opinion, I am also the best-looking member of this party."
Kaelen and Finn both side-eyed him. Lyra, however, took the bait. "Hmmm... I'll be the judge of that," she said, tapping a finger to her chin with mock seriousness. She looked them over with the critical eye of a professional connoisseur, then pointed decisively at Finn. "Him. Finn's the best looking! Itâs the responsible, could-fix-my-life vibe."
Noel slumped like a sad, abandoned puppy as the others roared with laughter, Kaelen patting him hard on the back. "Don't worry, Noel," Kaelen chuckled. "You'll always be the best looking to us." Noel's posture immediately corrected itself. He threw a fist in the air with a dramatic whisper, "My genius is just too subtle for some... I won't give up on enlightening you all!"
Watching the easy camaraderie, the genuine, chaotic friendship, Riko felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with adrenaline. "I think... I'll join your party," she said, and her smile reached its full, brilliant, unguarded brilliance for the first time.
The three adventurers let out a whoop of joy, pulling each other into a messy, celebratory huddle. They knew they were now fugitives, but in that moment, they didn't care.
Their celebration was cut short by Noel, who let out a low, shaky whistle, his earlier bravado gone. "A hundred Platinum Coins..." he said, his voice barely a whisper. He looked at Riko, his eyes wide with a terrifying awe. "Riko, do you have any idea what that is? My father told me a single platinum coin could buy a noble's entire estate. With that much money, you could buy a fleet of warships. The King isn't just trying to have you captured; he's trying to make every mercenary, assassin, and desperate soul on the continent hunt you down for the rest of your life."
A heavy silence fell over the new party, the true, crushing weight of their decision settling upon them. Kaelen looked at Finn, who met his gaze with a firm, determined nod. They were in this together, no matter the cost. This, they realized, was what it would take to be the best party in all of Valoria.
The warm, solemn moment was shattered by Lyra jumping away from Riko's side, a determined glint in her eye. "Alright, first order of business for our new party!" she announced cheerfully, shattering the tension. "Getting our ace back in fighting shape!"
Before Riko could react or even ask what she meant, Lyra's fingers deftly pinched the end of the largest, deepest splinter still embedded in Riko's arm from the fight.
"YANKS!"
A raw, unfiltered, and surprisingly high-pitched scream of pure pain ripped through the ruined tavern.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!"
Finn, Kaelen, and Noel froze, their moment of grim resolve completely broken. They stared in wide-eyed shock as the stoic, terrifying Muganome hopped on one foot, clutching her arm like a wounded child. Lyra, meanwhile, held the long, bloody splinter up to the light triumphantly.
"See?" she said with a proud grin. "Good as new!"