The raid was over at last.
Where the goblin camp had once been a writhing tide of bodies and steel, only trampled earth, blackened campfires, and scattered weapons remained. Lanterns swung from hastily built poles, casting pale circles of light over a field of mud and drying blood. Adventurers trudged back toward the guild's temporary outpost—limping, leaning on one another, dragging broken shields and empty quivers.
Inside the large canvas pavilion that served as the outpost, the air smelled of sweat, herbs, and steel. Tables lined the interior, manned by guild scribes who were already tallying names, wounds, and contributions. A low chorus of voices filled the room—murmured stories, tired laughter, and the occasional cry of pain as healers worked over the injured.
Yoshiya sat on a bench near the back, his round **shield** propped against his leg, his **staff** across his knees. His hands still trembled faintly from channeling so much mana into **Guard** and **Heal** during the fight. Beside him, Omina shifted her weight with a hiss, adjusting the bandage on the cut across her shin—the one she'd earned fending off a pair of goblins before Seikaku's squad had arrived.
Across the room Seikaku's group stood in their usual composed formation. The crossbowman leaned on his weapon as if it were part of him, speaking quietly to his scout while Dorobo sharpened his daggers with quick, practiced strokes. Even at rest, their team radiated purpose.
A guild clerk strode to the center and raised her voice. "All raid participants, step forward by team. Present your names, contribution forms, and any loot directly recovered from the field. You'll be assigned ranking points and rewards according to performance."
Teams moved one by one, handing over bent spears, torn banners, and lists of the monsters they had slain. The clerks scribbled furiously on parchment, weighing not just kills but rescues, assists, and vital acts under pressure.
When it was their turn, Yoshiya and Omina stepped forward.
"Team Yoshiya," he said quietly, handing over the sealed slip Lia had given them.
The clerk glanced up, recognizing the name. "You're the ones who held the line on the western flank?"
Yoshiya only nodded.
The clerk smiled faintly. "Noted. That stand gave the archers their window."
They stepped back, returning to their bench. Omina exhaled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "Feels weird, lining up for a score after all that."
"Guild needs its numbers," Yoshiya murmured. He rested the staff across his lap. "It's how they decide who can take harder quests."
As the last reports came in, the clerk gathered the sheets into one stack and returned to the center of the pavilion. The chatter died down.
"The raid on the Goblin Chieftain is complete," she announced. "Casualties minimal. Objective achieved. We now recognize the contributions of each group."
She read from the parchment, voice clear despite the weariness around her:
* **First place – Team Seikaku.** "Highest total points. Exceptional scouting before the raid, and during battle the team's crossfire and hit-and-run tactics inflicted the greatest number of kills and assists."
* **Second place – The tanks and warriors' coalition.** "Critical in shielding vulnerable allies and pulling wounded to safety while still inflicting heavy damage on the Chieftain's guards."
* **Third place – The mage and healer squad.** "Prevented mass casualties, stabilized the wounded under fire, and enabled every other team to keep fighting. Casualties kept to a minimum thanks to their coordination."
* **Fourth place – Team Yoshiya.** "Though fewer kills were recorded, their defense against the Chieftain's advance was marked 'pivotal.' Without their line holding, the ranged units could not have executed their plan."
A ripple went through the crowd. Some glanced at Yoshiya and Omina with newfound respect; others simply nodded. It wasn't first, but it was recognition nonetheless.
Omina tilted her head. "Fourth place. I thought we'd be buried in the list."
"Defense matters," the clerk said, overhearing. "Sometimes more than the finishing blow." She returned to her table to sort the rewards.
From the side curtain stepped **Lia**, her arm bandaged but her posture steady. She carried a clipboard, looking more like an administrator than someone who had just fought.
"Everyone did well," she said, her gaze sweeping the room. "The guild evaluates raids on three pillars—performance, teamwork, and impact. You may not see everything during battle, but we track it all. Supporters, defenders, scouts—every piece matters."
She paused by Yoshiya and Omina's bench. "You two especially. Holding the Chieftain long enough for Seikaku's team to land their shots saved dozens of lives."
Yoshiya blinked, unsure how to respond. "So it's not just about kills?"
Lia smiled faintly. "Exactly. It's about making the mission succeed." Then she moved on to check other tables.
Omina exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the bandage on her shin. "Guess we did more than we thought."
After the rankings, the guild staff opened a heavy chest and began distributing small cloth pouches. One by one, adventurers collected their share—coins, minor potions, and stamped certificates recording their earned ranking points.
"Eight silver pieces for Team Yoshiya," the clerk announced, handing them a pouch. The coins clinked softly inside.
Yoshiya accepted it with a tired nod. Omina peered at the pouch, eyebrows raised. "Eight silver. Not bad for two people."
Across the room, Yumi, Dorobo, and Kokoro were already gathering their belongings.
"I'm off to an inn," Yumi said, tucking her small wand into her belt. "Need real sleep."
"Same," Dorobo added, spinning a dagger once before sliding it into its sheath. "Plenty of places to crash tonight."
Kokoro hefted his great sword and gave a brief nod. "Good fight. See you around."
They each drifted out into the lantern-lit streets of Orleaf, leaving Yoshiya and Omina at the bench. The outpost quieted as the scribes packed away their parchments and locked the chests of loot. Outside, the muted clatter of wagons carried off the last of the supplies.
Omina leaned back, stretching her sore legs carefully. "Feels strange with everyone gone."
"Yeah," Yoshiya murmured. He rolled one of the silver coins across his knuckles before dropping it back into the pouch. "But at least we survived."
For a moment they simply sat, letting the warmth of the tent seep back into their tired bodies. The fight was over, yet the weight of it still pressed on their shoulders.
Omina glanced at the silver again. "Eight coins isn't bad, but…" She trailed off.
"But not enough," Yoshiya finished for her. He tightened the drawstring on the pouch and stared at his staff leaning against the bench. The once-smooth wood was scorched from stray sparks of magic; his shield was dented from the Chieftain's blows.
"We need better equipment," he said quietly. "Or new skills. Something."
Omina nodded, touching the edge of her short sword where a nick had chipped the blade. "If another fight like today comes, I don't want to just survive. I want us to stand our ground—and win."
They both sat in silence, the clink of silver between them, already thinking not of the battle they had endured but of the strength they would need for the next one.