Heavy Metal

"Have you heard?"

Asked a man holding a tankard filled with watered-down ale, his elbows resting on the scarred wooden table. The tavern was half full, and the smell of roasted meat mixed with the aroma of sweaty men.

"Yeah, someone said that the bandit camp vanished, burned to a crisp! Serves them right!"

The man across from him answered. He was a rough-looking fellow with an eyepatch hiding one eye and a deep scar running down the other side of his face. He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth with several missing.

"No, not about that."

The first man lowered his voice, glancing around before leaning closer.

"It's about those mercenaries, the Black Hounds. They say some of them didn't come back."

The other man's grin faded.

"What do you mean, didn't come back? Those bastards don't die easily. Were the bandits really that strong?"

"That's the strange part. Rumor has it they were working together the whole time."

As soon as he said that, the man with the eyepatch glanced around nervously and hushed him.

"Quiet. Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Ah, you're right."

The two leaned closer and started whispering.

"Some say there's a new force moving in, going after nobles and merchants alike. If you ask me, it serves those bastards right."

"Could it be the thieves' guild? Are they finally making a move?"

"Perhaps. If they are, things might start to change around here."

They nodded to each other, then leaned back and returned to their drinks. Unbeknownst to the two drunks, a third person was listening to their conversation. The newcomer had just arrived and was looking for news. The person wore a dark robe, and even their mouth was hidden by something that resembled a mask.

"Thieves Guild? Now that's an interesting bit of information. I wonder who is spreading that rumor."

The stranger seemed intrigued by what the two men were saying and stayed longer to listen. However, everyone was mistaken about what was truly happening. The being responsible for all this chaos was somewhere else, preparing to take the next step on his journey.

****

"There it is, Gleam, level twenty-five!"

"⸜( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝"

Several days had passed since the attack on the bandit camp. Rusty and Gleam had returned to their lair and spent more time leveling in the dungeon to get Rusty to level twenty-five. For F-rank monsters, he only needed to reach level ten; for E-rank, it was fifteen; and now, at D-rank, it was twenty-five. Each time a rank was broken, the level limit expanded, and it would do so again once he reached C-rank.