"Damn it! That was a level 4 monster, and I lost 1000 Crona because of it!" Ananta slammed his hand onto the table, his fist clenched tight.
"Sorry, Ananta, but at least the bear is dead, and the village is safe." Beside him, a large man sat, his laughter echoing throughout the bar.
Ananta took a swig from his glass, still clearly displeased. "The village chief even kicked me out when I returned! Damn it! That short old bastard!"
"Relax, man!" The large man patted him on the back. "You're rich, Ananta. A thousand Crona shouldn't mean much to you!" he chuckled.
"I even think you take on missions just for fun..." The large man threw an arm around Ananta and took a gulp of his beer. His face was flushed red, and the stench of the alcohol was overwhelming to Ananta.
"Let go of me!" He brushed off the embrace, now looking as if something was on his mind. Then, he took another drink.
"Fill my glass, Mary."
In front of them, the young bartender poured whiskey into Ananta's glass. "With ice?"
"Yeah..."
"But weren't there supposed to be no magical creatures there? As far as I remember, there were only wild wolves in that area."
"Maybe a monster wave? Who knows..." Ananta sipped his drink. "Also, I didn't find any wolves or anything else. Just that bear. That furball didn't even register on detection magic."
"That's strange. Do you think I should report this to the Empire?" The big man frowned, though most of his face was hidden under messy hair.
Ananta took a deep gulp and slammed his glass onto the table. "You're the Guildmaster here, Barton! What would people think if they saw you asking advice from a bastard like me?"
The big man—Barton—laughed heartily, slapping Ananta's back again.
"Tsk! Stop this nonsense, bastard! There's nothing funny right now!"
"Haha..." Barton scratched his messy hair. "Maybe not to you, but I find it kind of amusing."
"But I'm serious, Ananta. Should I report this?" The mood shifted. "You were there. You'd know best."
Ananta didn't answer immediately. He tapped the table with his finger, eyes scanning the empty bar.
Staring into his empty glass, Ananta finally spoke. "File the report. Say it might be related to the monster wave last month."
Barton furrowed his brow, his gaze sharp. "Mary, can you prepare that for me?"
Mary nodded slightly, setting down her glass before silently walking away.
"Yeah, I just remembered something..."
Ananta lifted his head. "What?"
Somehow, Barton now looked like he was about to punch someone.
"What's with that face?"
Barton glanced at Ananta. "The Empire's trying to contact you."
"Shit!" Ananta cursed under his breath, rising from his chair and walking over to the empty tables—occasionally kicking a chair along the way.
"But to be fair, it's not the Empire exactly. The Emperor still doesn't like you. Especially after the whole hot rumor thing back then."
Ananta glared at Barton. How the hell could that bastard shift the mood so quickly? He stared at the drunk, watching the grin clearly plastered on a face half-hidden behind his hair.
"I hate you more and more." Ananta sat back down, but not before grabbing a whiskey bottle from the rack and pouring himself another drink.
Barton laughed, "It's the Empress, Ananta! The Empress! She sent someone to my office this afternoon..."
Ananta let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples. Somehow, his head was starting to ache—especially with this drunk idiot who couldn't wipe that annoying grin off his face.
***
Outside the bar, his watch showed it was already 2 a.m. His conversation with Barton had dragged on far too long.
"Haaah..." Ananta rubbed his face, stuffed both hands into his coat, and walked down the dimly lit street.
He walked slowly, tracing the silent, empty streets. A cold wind blew, sending a sharp chill through his body.
"How will you respond to this one, Ananta?"
A small shadowy orb floated beside his head. It was Benedict. He had been hiding in Ananta's shadow this whole time—for good reason. Dark magic was still considered taboo.
Even so, Ananta was one of the few registered mages in the Association allowed to wield Dark Magic.
And unlike necromancy, Benedict wasn't resurrected — he was created. An artificial lifeform, crafted by Ananta.
"I don't know. They always seem to look for me during peaceful times."
"Sometimes, I get confused..."
Ananta glanced at the small shadow beside him. "Confused about what?"
He stared at a nearby streetlamp, waiting for Benedict to speak.
"Your reason, Ananta."
Ananta paused, caught off guard by the statement, but then continued walking.
"Why can't you let go of your past? About that thing. I think now's the right time to start over. You could go somewhere they can't reach, start a new chapter. Wouldn't that be better than clinging to the old, worn-out pages?"
Ananta sighed softly, then smiled—pleased, in a way, by his creation's growth. "Nice words, but..."
"What's the point in starting a new chapter, if you don't even fully understand the last one? Do you get what I mean?"
He arrived at his destination—the inn. The friendly owner greeted him as he entered.
Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Benedict reappeared in the same shadowy form. "That's a good line too…"
Ananta chuckled, but Benedict continued, "But Ananta, haven't you already understood the meaning of that old chapter?"
He stopped at the top of the stairs. He didn't know how to respond.
Ananta walked on in silence, thinking about what Benedict had just said.
"You're right, Benedict. But in my case... that old chapter is what's keeping me from opening the new one." Ananta's face looked apathetic as he opened the door to his room.
"And they are the ones keeping me bound." Ananta frowned, green veins slightly visible around his temples.
Benedict looked toward where Ananta was staring. Something moved behind the curtain, fluttering in the wind—four glowing eyes in the darkness.
"Turn on the light, Ben." Ananta shut the door and locked it. Benedict's skeletal form emerged and lit the room.
A surprise awaited Benedict—a man and a woman stood there, both staring at Ananta.
Meanwhile, Ananta forced a smile. "You two are as dramatic as ever. Tea, anyone?"
***
Ananta stared at the two of them—those damned siblings, showing up once again.
Sitting across from them, Benedict came over with a steaming teapot and a few cups.
Ananta poured tea into two cups for his guests.
The woman watched him intently. "Thank you," she said when handed the cup.
But before that, she glanced at the man beside her, who tipped his Panama hat and took a sip from his cup.
Ananta watched, unfazed. No point poisoning a drink they wouldn't trust anyway.
The man set down his cup, and the woman followed suit, sipping hers.
Benedict stood behind Ananta, glancing back and forth between the two. He didn't recognize the man, but he was certain who the woman was.
"I think it's about time you stopped tailing me, don't you think?" Ananta stared at them both.
The woman smiled. "We're not tailing you, darling," she said, locking eyes with him. "You're just still hovering around us."
Benedict was a little shocked at her reply. It was rare for anyone to outmatch Ananta in a conversation.
In front of him, Ananta grinned. They were still as fiery as ever.
"What do you want? You said yourself—we're done."
Ananta exhaled sharply, but then something cold pressed against his neck.
A blade. He could feel the chill of it resting against his skin.
"Cut the drama. It's unnecessary," said the man, pointing his sword while staring Ananta down.
"No need, Benedict. I can handle it." Glancing behind, Ananta could see a magic circle forming—ready to unleash a strike.
"Has life here made you cocky, huh?!"
The man said. Ananta scratched his head, brushing the blade away. "If anything, it's this boring life that makes you look like an impatient child."
"The Empire's Sword King, acting like a brat… Haha! What would people think?"
"Enough. Lower your sword, Djandel! We're not here for your childish games!"
Djandel—that was his name—clicked his tongue in annoyance. Why did he even agree with this brat? But he didn't voice it. Instead, he complied with the woman's command.
She clasped her hands together, as if pondering something. "I came to talk business, you know?"