Chapter 9

  Elira walked through the heavy wooden doors of the Adventurer’s Guild, stepping inside and letting the lively hum of chatter and clinking glass fill her ears. The hallway bustled with activity: adventurers hovered around the quest board in swarms, chattering excitedly with a host of receptionists, while many others lounged at tables, drinking and chatting. The air stank heavily of beer and smoke of meats in roasting, the familiar smell made her remind of past memories that she held dear.

  Wearing brown pants, a white shirt, and boots to match her trousers, Elira drew little attention at first. Her armor and insignia of the city guard were absent; this wasn’t an official visit, after all, and she couldn’t risk being seen doing an official investigation. Her goal was simple: to ask around and see if anyone had noticed two white-haired women. Adventurers, being frequent travelers and sharp-eyed observers, often tended to spot things others missed.

  As she forged through the crowd, a big hand suddenly clapped onto her shoulder. She was spun off by a jarringly tall man whose wide shoulders and easy grin made him hard to overlook. He stood nearly two meters tall, his sheer presence dominating the space around him. His name was Darron, an old comrade from her adventuring days.

  “Elira! Look at you!” he boomed, his deep voice carrying over the din of the guild. A glass of beer sloshed in his hand as he laughed heartily. “What brings the great Commander of the city guard back to this rowdy place? Come to remind yourself of your roots?”

  Before she could answer, Darron dragged her toward a table where three others sat, already deep into their drinks. Despite her protests, he plopped her down in a chair with little ceremony, causing the group to erupt in laughter.

  “Darron, I didn’t come here to—” she began, only to be interrupted by a beer being placed in front of her.

  Merlin, a sorceress whose revealing attire always drew attention, chuckled softly as she sipped her own drink. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her sharp eyes gleamed with amusement. “Elira, refusing a drink? That’s not like you. Has being the city guard’s commander turned you into a proper, uptight little soldier?”

  Elira felt her cheeks flush slightly, a rare occurrence for someone usually so composed. She managed a sheepish smile, trying to brush off the comment.

  Darron slapped her back with a force that nearly made her spill the untouched beer. “Come on, drink up! It’s a special occasion! The legendary Platinum adventurer herself is gracing us with her presence!”

  The declaration was loud enough to draw attention from the other adventurers in the hall. A collective “Ooooh!” went up, followed by cheers and clinking mugs.

  Elira sighed, her embarrassment deepening as she found herself the center of attention. She raised a hand, trying to wave off the commotion. “I’m not here for a reunion, Darron. I’m just looking for information.”

  As the excitement around the guild began to settle after a few minutes, Merlin leaned back in her chair, her smile softening. “Why are you here? Your team must be missing you.”

  Darron snorted, downing the last of his beer. “Of course we miss her! She was the only Platinum-ranked adventurer in the group! Without her, the team’s strength dropped like a rock.”

  Elira tilted her head, a smile playing on her lips. “What about Merlin? Surely she could carry the team if she wanted to.”

  Darron huffed dramatically, waving a hand in Merlin’s direction. “She wouldn’t join even if we begged her! So it’s just me and two Silver-ranked adventurers holding the party.”

  Merlin chuckled, a sly grin spreading across her face. “I prefer working alone, thank you very much. Less baggage to carry.”

  Elira leaned forward, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Have either of you seen any white-haired women around the city? Travelers, maybe?”

  Darron rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his brow furrowing. After a moment, he let out a laugh. “If I’d seen any beauties with white hair, I’d remember! But no, nothing comes to mind. Merlin here is the only one!”

  Elira turned to Merlin, her expression hopeful. “What about you? Anything unusual?”

  Merlin took a moment to think, swirling her drink idly. “I know a fair number of white-haired women, but none from this city. If they’re here, they’re likely foreigners. You might want to ask merchants or innkeepers—they’d notice travelers like that.”

  Elira nodded slowly. “Good idea. But it could take a lot of time.”

  Merlin’s gaze sharpened. “You’re investigating a crime, aren’t you?”

  Elira hesitated, then offered a guarded nod. “I can’t share many details, but yes. These two women killed a noble and a guard.”

  Merlin raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with dry amusement. “If they killed one of your guards, they’re no amateurs. Your city guard may be fodder, but common thugs wouldn’t stand a chance against them. These women must be skilled fighters.”

  Elira sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s what worries me.”

  Merlin tapped a finger against her beer glass thoughtfully. “Try checking the inns and hotels first. If they’re warriors, they’ll need a place to rest. And if they’re foreigners, they won’t blend in that easily.”

  Elira stood, a determined glint in her eyes. “Thanks, Merlin. I’ll do that.”

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  Merlin smirked. “Are you really leaving without even tasting the drink?”

  Elira sighed, resigned. She picked up the glass and took a small sip.

  Darron cheered, raising his own beer in the air. “That’s the spirit!”

  The group laughed, and for a brief moment, Elira allowed herself to relax in their company. But the weight of her mission quickly returned, pulling her back to reality.

  She set the glass down and offered a small smile. “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you around.”

  As she made her way to the exit, the lively atmosphere of the guild faded into the background, replaced by the cool evening air. Her thoughts were already racing, piecing together the next steps in her search.

  Elira stepped out of the Guild, bringing her collar closer to her against the cool breeze. It started raining softly on the cobblestones as she walked down the street, and the faint smell of wetness rose in the air. She didn't mind the rain, the quiet sort of peace it carried felt good in comparison with the noise of the city.

  Her destination was the Merchant’s Plaza, a bustling marketplace during better weather. On rainy days like this, however, it emptied out quickly. The vibrant tents that normally dotted the plaza were being disassembled by merchants unwilling to endure the damp, while only a few hardy souls remained to see if they still could get any customers.

  Elira kept her pace steady, letting the droplets soak lightly into her clothes. Rainy days like this had always felt oddly comforting. She knew the exposure to cold and rain could lead to sickness, but she had never been one to fall ill. Perhaps it was her natural resilience or the strength she had built up over the years as an adventurer.

  As she entered the plaza, her eyes scanned the area for someone who might have information. One merchant, struggling to take down his tent, caught her attention. His face was weathered and familiar—she had dealt with him before.

  When he noticed her approach, his eyes widened, and he raised his hands defensively. “Come on, Captain,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “I promised, didn’t I? I’m not selling any more of those miraculous pills. Honest!”

  Elira gave him a pointed look but allowed a small smirk to show. “Good. Make sure it stays that way, or you’ll have more than just the rain to deal with.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “I’m not here for that tho. I need information.”

  The merchant relaxed slightly but kept his guard up. “Information, eh? What kind?”

  “Two white-haired women. Have you seen anyone matching that description in the city?”

  The man scratched his chin thoughtfully, then held out his hand with a sly grin. “Information services aren’t free, Captain.”

  Elira sighed, her patience thinning. “Maybe I should just beat the answer out of you.”

  The merchant laughed nervously, shaking his head. “Ah, come on, a good captain like yourself wouldn’t do that.”

  Her sharp gaze stayed on him for a moment longer before she fished two gold coins from her pouch and placed them in his outstretched hand. “Here. Now talk.”

  The merchant examined the coins, nodding in approval before leaning closer. “The receptionist at the Silver Wings Hotel told me about two strange white-haired women staying there. Said they even got a visit from some scary folks—a man and a woman. Looked dangerous, by her description. If I were you, Captain, I’d steer clear of that kind of trouble.”

  Elira’s eyes narrowed slightly as she absorbed the information. “Scary people?”

  The merchant nodded. “Yeah, the kind you don’t want to cross paths with. That’s all I know.”

  Elira nodded curtly. “Thanks.”

  As she stepped away from the plaza, her mind began to drift away in thought. The Silver Wings Hotel. Two white-haired women. Scary visitors... It wasn’t much, but it felt like a lead.

  Her mind wandered further, drawing connections she wasn’t sure were valid yet. ‘It must be them. Who else could it be? Merlin must be the only other person in this city with white hair, and she’s not involved in this.’

  The mention of the dangerous visitors gave her pause. A pair of a man and a woman working together... The thought tugged at a distant memory. Kallen, and... what was her name again? The image of a tall and lean man flashed in her mind. Kallen was a skilled fighter, strong and relentless, but not someone Elira feared. His partner, the woman she couldn’t remember the name, while fierce, also wasn’t someone that invoked fear in her.

  It was the other woman of the group that she remembered clearly. The one with a pale face and blue eyes. Her presence alone had been suffocating, like standing on the edge of a precipice with no way to retreat. Elira had only faced her once, and the memory still sent a chill down her spine. She remembered the crushing sense of inevitability, as though death itself had taken form.

  Shaking her head, Elira pushed the thought aside. Jumping to conclusions won’t help. Just because they have white hair doesn’t mean it’s them.

  Still, the idea lingered, unsettling and persistent. She couldn’t afford to assume too much, but she also couldn’t ignore the possibility. With a resigned sigh, she adjusted her pace, her boots splashing lightly in the shallow puddles that had begun to form.

  The Silver Wings Hotel would be her next stop.

  Elira's boots splashed in puddles of water on the wet cobblestones as she made her way to the hotel. The rain fell steadily, rhythmically, until it was broken by a scream—a sharp cry that cut off abruptly, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

  Instantly, her hand clutched the hilt of her sword, while her body froze. Her eyes moved as if scanning the area to pinpoint the direction. The scream had been muffled, as if someone had silenced the person mid-cry. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she activated her skill, [Witcher Instinct].

  The world around her dimmed, the vibrant colors of the city fading to muted tones. Her senses sharpened to an uncanny degree. The rain seemed quieter now, the patter of each droplet distinct in her ears. She could hear the faint rustle of a cat's paws padding twelve meters away, the distant flap of a bird's wings high above. Then she saw them: sound tracks, shimmering lines in the air, almost like they were actually tangible, leading her toward the source of the scream.

  Elira followed the tracks cautiously, her steps silent as she approached an isolated alleyway. The sounds grew clearer—a muffled cry, a struggle. She reached the corner and took a careful peek around it.

  There, in the dim light of the alley, she saw a young girl with a cloth gag in her mouth, her hands bound. Two figures loomed over her—a man and a woman. Elira’s stomach twisted as she recognized them. A pang of instinctual dread rose within her, whispering that she should walk away, that this wasn’t her fight. Messing with this organization wouldn’t give rise to anything good.

  But then she looked at the girl again, helpless and terrified. ‘No,’ she thought. ‘I won’t turn my back on someone in need that is right in front of me.’

  Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her spirit and prepared to step into the alley. Just as she moved, an arm draped over her shoulders.

  Elira froze, her muscles tensing as her heart raced. The arm was light yet unyielding, as if mocking her strength. She hadn’t heard or sensed anyone approach. Slowly, she turned her head to the side and saw a woman standing beside her, impossibly close.

  The woman’s dark hair fell in smooth waves, and her glowing red eyes bore into Elira’s with an intensity that made her blood run cold. Her breath grew heavy, each inhaling feeling shallow and insufficient. A suffocating chill swept over her, as if death itself stood beside her.

  The woman smiled, her voice a sultry, teasing whisper. “My... I can’t let you do that right now.”