Arthur's head snapped up.
A party invite? Was this his "saving grace" moment? His heart skipped a beat, and he turned so fast he actually pulled a muscle in his neck.
Standing by the table was a nun.
She was rocking these deep crimson robes—not the cheap stuff, but heavy, matte fabric with gold fire embroidery around the collar and cuffs. In the dim light of the Guild hall, the threads had this weird, almost metallic blue shimmer. She wasn't tall—maybe 5'6"—but she had this aura of intense, elegant restraint. Her platinum-blonde hair was tucked perfectly under her hood, with just a few strands escaping like molten silver.
And her face… Arthur blinked. She was way too cute for the "grim servant of God" aesthetic. Her eyes were a frosty, winter-lake blue, looking at him with professional seriousness. But when she blinked, there was this flicker of… boredom? Detachment? It was that "done with the world" look you'd see on a celebrity like Sydney Sweeney, only colder.
"Are you looking for a party?" she asked. Her voice was smooth as silk but had a tiny bit of rasp to it—like a candle flickering out.
Arthur sat up straight, his gamer instincts kicking in. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am." He realized he was being weirdly polite. There was something about her—half-holy, half-unapproachable—that made him feel like he needed to watch his language.
He scanned his memory. Platinum blonde? Short? Cute but scary? He'd been hanging around the Guild for three years, and he'd never seen her. Total newbie. And she looked young—like, "just finished my internship at the convent" young.
"Pleasure to meet you," she said with a bow that looked like it came straight out of a textbook. "I am Serena Vael, a junior sister of the Church of the Sacred Flame."
Sacred Flame. Arthur's heart sank. This city was crawling with churches, but the Sacred Flame guys were legendary. Not for being nice, but for being absolute lunatics. They were the fanatics among fanatics—the kind of people who'd burn a village to "save" its soul.
"Arthur. Tier 3 adventurer," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "So, Sister… you want to team up with me?"
Being an adventurer meant dealing with church people all the time—priests, monks, whatever. Most were just boring and strict. But this girl? He was definitely keeping his guard up.
Serena didn't answer right away. Her icy eyes lingered on his face, then drifted down to his shredded armor and the fresh scratches on his neck. "Pardon my bluntness," she said, her tone polite but her words cutting like a knife, "but I've been watching you. You're… struggling to find work, aren't you?"
Arthur felt his ears get hot. He rubbed the back of his head, his fingers catching on a grease knot in his hair. "I mean… it's a slow Tuesday. Nothing good on the board." He tried to smile. It felt like a grimace.
"In that case," Serena took a half-step forward, her robes not making a single sound, "would you be open to joining me? I have a… specialized job that pays well."
Is this my redemption arc?
Arthur almost grabbed her hand and thanked her right there. Beggars can't be choosers. But his brain (and a lifetime of internet-learned cynicism) stopped him. This was too sudden. Too good to be true. Was this some new fantasy-world organ-harvesting scam? Are werewolf kidneys worth a lot?
"I'm listening," he said, leaning in like a desperate salesman. "What's the gig?"
"Technically, it's not a Guild quest," she lowered her voice, making it feel like a secret. "It's a direct order from the Church. Are you interested?"
A Church order. Arthur's curiosity spiked. Even at his lowest, he was still a sucker for a mystery.
"I'm not exactly in a position to be picky," he said, gesturing to his broke-looking self. "I'm in."
A tiny, almost invisible curve touched Serena's lips. "Then I shall explain." Her voice went flat, like she was reciting a textbook. "The Church has detected that the lizardmen inhabiting the Black-Claw Rift have abandoned their nests. For reasons unknown, they are congregating on the surface to build… a pagan idol. Their numbers are… significant."
Lizardmen on the surface? Arthur's eyebrows shot up. That was weird. Those scaly, bipedal crocodiles were basically cave-ants. They had terrible eyesight and relied on heat sensing to hunt in the dark. Building stuff in the sun? That was unheard of.
"The Church views this as a trial for me," Serena said. A spark of heat flashed in her eyes—the kind of look religious people get when they talk about "purifying" things. "The task is to destroy the idol and bring back its core relic."
Standard "Holy War" stuff.
"The Church provided a budget," she continued. "If we succeed, I will pay you one silver coin."
One silver coin.
Arthur's brain blue-screened. One silver! That was like two or three Tier 3 quests combined. That was "living like a king for a month" money. His logic was immediately incinerated by greed. He grabbed Serena's hands—they were cool and soft, but he felt callouses on her fingers.
"Wait—" Serena looked startled, her eyes widening.
"I'll do it!" Arthur's voice cracked. He lowered it, but the hype was real. "Whatever it takes! For the glory of the… uh, Sacred Flame! Let's go!"
Serena's robotic expression cracked. A look of pure, almost girlish joy lit up her face, making her look way more approachable. "Excellent!" she said, squeezing his hand back with surprising strength. "I knew you were the right choice! Let us go and purge that blasphemy together!"
Okay, maybe the rumors were wrong, Arthur thought, seeing her bright smile. She's just a nice girl who's happy to have help. Adventurers are such haters.
"So," he said, letting go and looking around. "Who else we got? You find anyone else while you were scouting?"
Serena's smile froze.
"Well…" she hesitated, looking away. "I did reach out to several other adventurers after I received my orders."
"And?"
"They all… declined." Her voice dropped. When she looked back at him, there was a mix of pity and resignation in her eyes. "So, when I saw you getting rejected at the counter… I targeted you. You are currently the only one."
Figures. Arthur wasn't even surprised. A random nun from a cult-adjacent church asking you to hunt "weird lizardmen" on a "private order"? Any experienced adventurer would ghost her immediately. No Guild credit means no level-up, and if you die, there's no insurance.
"Right. Makes sense," Arthur nodded. "Whatever. We can find more people. How many do we need? Four is the standard, right? Tank, DPS, Healer, Support."
"Four…" Serena murmured, her eyes calculating. "The problem is, the Church only gave me two silver as an advance. If we hire more people, the split gets… tricky."
Arthur blinked. "Wait, Sister. You said you'd pay me one silver, right?"
"Yes."
"So if we find two more, we pay everyone 50 copper? That's 200 copper total—two silver."
Serena looked at him like he'd just discovered fire. "50 copper? Would anyone actually risk their life for such a… tiny amount?"
Arthur opened his mouth to roast her, then shut it. He realized he was talking to a church-raised trust-fund baby. She had zero concept of money. To her, one silver was probably "lunch money," not "I can finally buy new boots" money.
"Most people… wouldn't mind," he said dryly. He decided not to correct her. More money for him. "Let's try to find a mage or a ranger."
Serena sighed in relief. "I suppose that is best."
The next thirty minutes were a new peak in Arthur's "life of shame." He dragged Serena around, trying to talk to the regulars.
"Hey, Big Joe, you looking for—" "Arty! Man, I'd love to, but I just took a sewer-clearing gig. Smells like hell, but the pay is decent." Joe patted Arthur's shoulder while eyeing Serena like she was a ticking time bomb.
"Casper, you want in on a quick run?" "A nun of the Flame?" The archer smirked. "I worship the Forest Goddess, man. Not looking to get burned. Sorry, Arthur."
People didn't even wait for the pitch. They just saw the red robes and noped out. Arthur could hear the whispers behind him.
"Look, it's that 'werewolf' Arthur…" "The guy who broke the Dream Team in three days?" "His stats are garbage, and now he's doing private work for the lunatics? He's got a death wish." "Are werewolves even allowed in town? Where are the guards?"
Werewolf. That word stung. He was used to it, though. When he first woke up in this world, he was a hairy, clawed mess. He'd survived the first full moon—the literal soul-ripping pain of it. Being an outcast was better than being dead.
He rubbed his temples, thinking about his old life. A smartphone screen, his wife Lillian laughing, his daughter Amy… the mortgage, the bills. Everything was so precise back then. Then the world tilted, and he fell into this grimy mess.
"Screw all of you," he muttered under his breath.
Serena stood beside him, expressionless. But Arthur noticed her fingers fiddling with the gold embroidery on her sleeve. She was annoyed. Or something.
"Mr. Arthur," she said, her hood shading her eyes. "I… failed to find anyone."
"Same here." Arthur wiped his face. "Dammit."
Time was ticking. Every minute wasted was another copper closer to sleeping on the street.
"Alright, Sister Serena!" Arthur said, trying to sound brave. "Forget them. Just the two of us. Let's do it!"
Serena's icy blue eyes bored into his, like she was scanning his soul for its "quality." After a few seconds, she gave a slow, mysterious nod.
"Just the two of us?" she whispered.
"We'll be fine." Arthur slapped his sword hilt. "I'm the tank, and I can hit hard. As long as you've got the heals, we can take some lizards. For one silver coin, I'd fight a dragon."
"If we complete this with just two people," Serena mused, her fingers still tracing the gold fire, "the Church's evaluation… will be very high."
"Exactly!"
"Then let us depart before it gets dark." Serena turned and headed for the exit, her robes swishing with purpose.
Arthur took a deep breath and followed. Two-man squad. Lizardmen hunt. Destorying a pagan idol.
For one silver coin.
And to avoid a park bench tonight.