The head of Stormhall Guild, Dorian Kaelthorn, rode his black horse with a grim face. The wind slapped against his skin, yet his mind was too occupied with worry to care.
"Damn… why did someone have to take that mission?" he cursed inwardly.
He remembered clearly when the first report came from Garlun Village—livestock disappearing, fences destroyed, barns left in shambles. To ordinary people, it looked like the work of wolves or perhaps some thieves. Even Dorian had thought the same at first.
But after thinking again, something felt off. Garlun Village was two days away from Stromhall City.
If it were just wolves or mere thieves, the village had guards stationed there. Wolves were a minor issue. Especially for an F-rank mission, it should have been easy to handle.
"A wolf couldn't possibly break down thick wooden fences. And livestock disappearing every single night without a single trace of blood left behind? That's not the work of wild beasts. A beast like a wolf will always leave blood."
His grip on the reins tightened.
"It must be something clever enough to not leave traces. And clearly… it's no ordinary beast."
Moreover, if it was really just an F-rank mission, the people of Garlun Village wouldn't have bothered to send a report to the Adventurer's Guild that was two days away.
"That would not only waste time, but also cost them quite a lot."
Such a mission should never have been posted on the F-rank board. Even a group of D-rank adventurers might struggle if his guess was correct.
"If my prediction is right… the attacker isn't a beast. It's something far more dangerous. It's an A-rank Beast. Those two could die if I don't stop them in time."
Dorian whipped his horse, forcing it to run faster. The village of Garlun was still far, but he could not afford to be late.
"Hurry! I can't let it be too late."
**
Meanwhile, in Garlun Village.
Crowne and Ronan were led to a shabby house at the edge of the village. The walls leaned crooked, the roof had holes, and some of the wooden planks were already rotten with age.
An old woman greeted them with a warm smile. Her hair was white, her body hunched, yet her eyes carried kindness.
Beside her stood a little girl, her granddaughter, hiding behind the old woman while shyly peeking at the two strangers—Crowne and Ronan.
"Forgive this humble house, children," said the old woman in a trembling voice. "But… please stay here tonight. You must be tired. Don't feel uneasy."
Crowne nodded lightly. "We are grateful."
The village chief excused himself not long after. His smile was faint, and then he left quickly, as if unwilling to linger.
As the chief left, Crowne glanced his way. He noticed the man seemed somewhat rushed, unwilling to stay longer at that place.
"What is he thinking?" Crowne murmured.
Ronan, noticing Crowne lost in thought, patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's go in!" he said.
Crowne nodded. The two of them stepped inside the rickety house.
Once the door closed, Ronan whispered to Crowne, "Master… this house is nearly falling apart. Are we safe here?"
Crowne looked at the cracked walls and leaking roof, then turned to Ronan. "Safe or not, that's not the point. As long as there's a roof over our heads tonight, we'll use it. Don't worry about small things." His eyes shifted to the old woman. "She welcomed us sincerely. Don't let her down."
Ronan sighed, still uneasy. Yet his gaze softened when he saw the old woman patiently preparing thin straw beds for them.
He lowered his head a little, guilt weighing on him for judging things only by appearance.
"I should be ashamed."
**
Night eventually fell.
At a rickety table, the old woman served them food. It was nothing but thin porridge with a few wilted vegetables. No meat, no proper side dish. Just a bland aroma that even made Ronan's stomach twist with disappointment.
The little girl stared at the bowl with hopeful eyes. But when she saw their guests, she pushed her portion forward, as if willing to give it to Crowne and Ronan.
On the table, there was only one bowl of porridge—barely enough for two. Yet it was split into four so the guests could eat as well.
"Did we trouble you, grandmother?" Crowne asked.
The old woman shook her head. "It has been long since we last had guests. Having you here makes the house feel a little livelier. That alone makes me happy," she replied.
Whether it was true or simply polite words, Crowne did not know. He let out a long sigh. Seeing the life of the old woman and her granddaughter reminded him of himself back when he was still on Earth.
His life had been truly miserable. He had once eaten food from garbage bins just to ease his hunger. But everything changed when a man offered him work at a zoo.
Since then, his life had become much better.
"Thank you," Crowne said sincerely to the old woman.
She answered with a smile.
Crowne stared for a moment at the porridge bowl before finally picking up the spoon. He ate slowly, his face calm, as though the taste did not matter at all.
After that, he smiled. "It's good," Crowne said.
Ronan hesitated, then followed his master. He chewed slowly, though his tongue almost rejected the bitter taste of the rotten vegetables.
Crowne patted Ronan's thigh. Quickly, Ronan swallowed down the porridge and forced a smile.
"I'm sorry if our food isn't good," the old woman said, bowing her head. "Ever since the livestock disappeared, we can only eat whatever we can find. Without help from outside… perhaps we would have starved to death."
Crowne looked straight into her eyes and replied calmly, "We'll take care of this problem. Don't worry, grandmother."
Ronan added gently, "Yes, grandmother. Thank you for sharing with us."
The old woman's face brightened with relief. And the little girl gave a small smile—for the first time that night.
"Please eat! You'll be leaving afterward, won't you?"
Ronan nodded. "Yes. We will kill the wolf."
The old woman and her granddaughter exchanged a glance, as if hiding something. Crowne noticed it.
"Be careful!" the old woman warned.
Ronan pounded his chest with his right hand. "Leave it to us!" he said proudly.