Far from the Forbidden Forest, in a world that knew nothing of void corruption or milk cannons, another story was beginning
Morning light washed over Skeldar, capital of the Shield Kingdom of Aegis.
Stone streets warmed. Market stalls opened. Bells rang once, then fell silent.
Life moved in practiced rhythms.
Ronan walked through it with steady purpose.
His armor was polished but not ornate—marked by use, not decoration. A longsword rested at his side, its blade clean and trusted. He looked every bit the hero.
Not because of radiance or presence, but because people made room as he passed.
Shopkeepers nodded. Guards acknowledged him. Children watched with quiet interest rather than fear.
Ronan returned each gesture simply—a brief nod, a small wave—and kept walking.
His reputation wasn't built on legend.
It was built on consistency.
Today, however, his thoughts were elsewhere.
Okay. Today's the day.
He exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the rhythm of his steps.
I'll tell her. Properly. No backing out.
The guild doors stood open, voices spilling out in low conversation.
Inside, the familiar scent of wood, ink, and old metal greeted him.
And there she was.
Juniper sat behind the reception desk, quietly sorting documents into neat stacks. Her movements were careful, deliberate.
She looked up as he approached.
Her emerald eyes widened slightly, then softened. A faint smile followed.
"Good morning, Ronan-sama."
Heat rose to his face despite himself.
"Good morning, Miss Juniper."
"Ah-It's... good to see you."
She smiled a little more at that.
"It's good to see you back. How did your quest go?"
"It went well, It was an A-rank request. A Goblin Lord had taken over a village to the east—stealing supplies, terrorizing the people. They were surprisingly well-organized, for goblins."
Juniper leaned forward slightly, hands resting on the desk.
"That sounds dangerous…"
He offered a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"It was, but we dealt with it. The villagers are safe now. Most of what was taken was recovered."
He paused, then added, with a smile,
"They won't be returning."
Her expression held relief first—then admiration she tried, unsuccessfully, to hide.
"That's… incredible. An A-rank threat, handled so calmly."
Ronan gave a short, embarrassed laugh.
"I-I just did what I could."
Silence settled between them—not awkward, but heavy. Expectant.
He took a breath.
"Miss Juniper, I was wondering if—"
He glanced down, then up again — then into her emerald eyes.
The guildhall went quiet.
Not dramatically. Just enough that Ronan noticed.
Conversations dipped. Eyes turned toward them.
Juniper looked up at him fully now.
"If you're not busy later," Ronan continued, voice steady despite his hammering heart, "would you like to—"
"YO, RON!"
The shout tore through the hall like a thrown axe.
"What's takin' so long?! We're starving out here!"
The moment shattered.
A collective groan rippled through the room.
"Seriously?" someone muttered.
"Read the room, you golden-haired buffoon!" another shouted.
Even the guildmaster grumbled, "Back in my day, you let love bloom in peace..."
Ronan flinched, a rare edge of irritation crossing his expression.
The culprit stood a few paces away—a young man with unruly blond hair and a grin that never knew when to stop. A spear rested across his back.
Jareth.
His grin faltered as he took in the scene.
"Oh. Uh..oh. Did I interrupt something important?"
"...Jareth," Ronan muttered.
Juniper let out a small laugh—soft, an attempt to ease the tension.
"I suppose your party member was looking for you."
Ronan turned back to her, apology written across his face.
"Yeah. I guess I should—"
She nodded before he could finish.
"It's alright. We can talk more... later, maybe?"
He blinked, then smiled—truly smiled.
"Later. Definitely."
As he turned to leave, her voice followed him.
"And Ronan-sama?"
He paused.
"...I'm really glad you came back safe."
Their eyes met briefly.
Then Ronan nodded and walked away, heart pounding, resolve settling in his chest.
Next time. I won't hesitate.
Jareth clapped him on the back too hard, already talking.
Ronan barely heard him.
Behind the desk, Juniper stared after him.
"Well," a voice said lightly beside her, "that was painful to witness."
Marie leaned against the counter, arms crossed, smirking.
"Looks like someone's got a knight in shining armor who almost asked her out."
Juniper's cheeks puffed slightly. "Don't start."
Marie chuckled. "I won't. Just... don't let him be the only brave one next time."
Juniper said nothing—but her fingers tightened around her clipboard.
Next time... I'll be the one to ask.
Outside, Ronan and Jareth found two familiar figures waiting.
Vanya stood calmly in white robes marked with her faith's symbol, her soft pink hair falling in loose waves down her back. Her presence carried an easy warmth that steadied frayed nerves.
She smiled gently.
"Ronan-sama... Jareth-kun. You took a while."
Beside her stood Ysarael.
Where Vanya was calm and steady, Ysarael was all sharp edges—dark red hair tied in a long ponytail, eyes alert and restless. A massive sword rested across her back, its worn hilt wrapped in faded cloth.
Jareth grinned, throwing an arm around Ronan's shoulder.
"Hey, Vanya! And Ys—"
Ysarael's glare stopped him cold.
"Uh—Ysarael! Totally meant Ysarael. Ready for our next big adventure?"
Ysarael scoffed, arms crossed.
"If it means you'll finally shut up, then yes."
Jareth's grin faltered. "...Wow. Straight for the throat."
"Don't flatter yourself, You're just obnoxious."
"Alright, you two," Ronan interjected. "Let's not start another brawl on the guild steps. Vanya, what's the mission?"
Vanya unfolded a sealed parchment. At the top, a serpentine dragon was etched in black ink. Below it, bold numbers stood out.
48,000 Gold Gennies.
Jareth's eyes widened.
"Forty-eight thousand?! That's royal bounty numbers!"
Ysarael smirked.
"Careful, Jareth. You might drool all over yourself before we even get to the caves."
"I'm just saying, that's serious!"
Vanya nodded.
"It's an S Apex-rank request. A Poison Dragon."
Ronan frowned. "That's a serious threat."
Jareth cracked his knuckles. "Apex dragon just means more excitement, right? I've been itching for a real fight!"
Ysarael snorted. "Of course you have. You'd pick a fight with a brick wall if it looked at you funny."
"Hey! If the wall started it—"
"Just shut up and listen," she cut him off.
Vanya continued.
"There's more. Another S-rank adventurer accepted a similar quest earlier."
Ysarael's eyes narrowed. "And?"
"He completed it," Vanya said quietly. "Alone."
Silence fell.
"Alone?" Jareth repeated.
"No one knows who he is," Vanya continued. "He appeared, completed the quest, and vanished. They're calling him the Phantom Slayer."
Jareth's awe turned to renewed confidence.
"Well, if we beat the next one, we'll be stronger than this Phantom guy!"
"In your dreams," Ysarael muttered. "You'd be lucky not to poison yourself in the first five minutes."
"Hey! I'll have you know—"
"Enough," Ronan finaled. "Vanya, where's the dragon now?"
"The guild traced it to the Whispering Caves. Three days south, bordering the Forbidden Forest." She paused. "There's been an increase in poisonous gas and... strange roars."
Silence.
"Forbidden Forest," Jareth said with a frown, his earlier excitement fading.
Ronan's expression sharpened. "Then we leave at dawn. Everyone, prepare."
Then Jareth rubbed his stomach.
"But before that... can we eat? I'm starving."
Ysarael scoffed. Vanya chuckled softly.
Even Ronan's mouth lifted at the corner.
For the moment, that was enough.