Not this time

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the kind of day that would normally invite an aimless stroll or an easy errand. But for the three of them, there was only one destination. After a quick breakfast — or rather, Lian’s attempt at breakfast that Mira salvaged at the last minute — they headed straight to the guild.

The hall was buzzing as usual: adventurers swapping stories over mugs of ale, others crowding the quest board, and a few sharpening weapons in the corner. Behind the counter stood the receptionist, a cheerful young woman with her hair tied back in a neat ponytail. She looked up as they approached, already smiling.

“Morning, you three,” she said. “So, what’s the plan today? The usual easy quests to keep the coin purse happy?”

Lian leaned casually against the counter, flashing a grin so wide it nearly split his face. “Not this time,” he announced, his voice carrying across the room. “This time, we’re aiming for the big one. We’re going to defeat the Demon King.”

The words landed like a dropped stone in a pond. The receptionist blinked, mouth slightly open. Conversations all around them faltered; mugs froze halfway to lips, and the scrape of a whetstone on steel went silent. Adventurers of every rank turned their heads, disbelief written on their faces.

“The… Demon King?” the receptionist echoed, as if she needed to be sure she’d heard correctly.

“That’s right,” Lian said, undeterred by the sudden attention. “We’re done with chasing chickens and catching runaway goats. Time for something worthy of an epic ballad.”

Kael pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh at his ridiculous bravado, while Mira sighed and rubbed her forehead.

The receptionist tilted her head, studying them. “Well, that’s… quite the leap,” she said finally, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “I can’t say you’re the first to take on a quest like that, and you probably won’t be the last. Most who try either give up halfway or don’t come back at all.”

“Encouraging,” Mira muttered under her breath.

“Still,” the receptionist continued, “if you’re set on this, I can give you the information we have.” She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a leather-bound ledger. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at one marked with a red ribbon. “The last confirmed sighting of the Demon King and his followers was near Mount Dajti. That’s where you’ll want to start.”

“Mount Dajti,” Lian repeated, as if savoring the sound. “Has a nice ring to it. Makes it feel like we’re heading somewhere important.”

“The reward,” the receptionist went on, “is… well, essentially limitless. Gold, prestige, the gratitude of every kingdom that’s suffered under his raids. But I shouldn’t have to tell you: this is the most dangerous mission on the board.”

Kael’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, but she nodded anyway. “We understand.”

“Good,” the receptionist said with a small smile. “Then I wish you luck. You’ll need it.”

The room slowly returned to its usual clamor as the three left the counter, though a few lingering stares followed them out the door. Outside, sunlight poured over the cobbled street, making everything look sharper, clearer, more real.

Back at their little house, the mood shifted from bravado to quiet focus. Mira spread a cloth on the table and began laying out supplies: potions, bandages, rations, and maps she’d borrowed from the guild. Kael inspected their weapons, sharpening her blade with slow, methodical strokes. Lian rummaged through a chest, occasionally pulling out some odd item — a bent spoon, a shiny pebble — before discarding it with a shake of his head.

“We’ll need warm clothes,” Mira said without looking up. “Dajti is high in the mountains. Nights will be cold.”

“And rope,” Kael added. “Lots of rope.”

Lian tossed a coil onto the table with an exaggerated flourish. “Already ahead of you.”

Bit by bit, their packs filled: blankets, flasks, a spare set of boots for Kael, even a small charm Mira insisted might bring good luck. The weight of what lay ahead pressed down on them, but underneath it there was a spark of something new — determination, and maybe a flicker of excitement.

As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the floor, the three stood back and surveyed their work. Their gear was ready, their plan as solid as it could be for an impossible task. Tomorrow, they would set out for Mount Dajti, toward danger, glory, and whatever future awaited them.

For now, though, they allowed themselves a single moment of calm, surrounded by the quiet comfort of their little home.