Gaining attention, & possible party formation (1)

A month had passed since Delia joined the Silver Hawks Guild, and she had wasted no time making her mark.

Instead of lying low, she had done the exact opposite—shattering expectations from the very beginning.

On her second day, Delia took on three quests in a single day and completed all of them before sundown.

This wasn't just impressive—it was record-breaking.

She didn't only hold the title for the fastest rank-up, but she also now held the title for the fastest completion time for three quests in a single day.

Previously, the record stood at half a day, but Delia not only met that—she halved it in two.

Even though two of her quests were lower-ranked, the feat was still unheard of.

Her three quests were:

D-Rank Quest #1: Finding a missing cat named Caterina.

D-Rank Quest #2: Eliminating a D-rank monster known as a Howler—a humanoid creature resembling a werewolf with a four-way split mouth. Its terrifying howl was a long-range sonic attack that made it a dangerous enemy.

B-Rank Quest: Hunting down a Red-Ex Bear, with the additional challenge of preserving its fur, as it was needed by a merchant to create fire-resistant coats and gloves.

The reward for these quests was substantial—enough that Delia no longer had to worry about paying for her stay at the inn.

In fact, she had already begun saving up to buy a house. Even though she had plans to leave the city in the future, she estimated she'd stay for at least a year.

With such accomplishments, Delia quickly attracted attention—not just from the guild, but from commoners, merchants, and even nobles.

Rumors spread about a beautiful elven woman who was not only breathtaking but incredibly strong. Some even compared her beauty to that of a literal goddess.

She became unforgettable.

And for some, unforgettable turned into obsession. Men who saw her couldn't look away.

Every movement she made seemed to pull them in. Her voice alone was enough to captivate anyone who heard it.

For many, simply hearing her speak was enough to make their day.

Even in a guild filled with powerful warriors, Delia's presence commanded attention—whether she wanted it or not.

During her month in the Silver Hawks, Delia built strong relationships with many members. She got to know the B-rank and A-rank adventurers, though she had yet to meet an S-rank or a Double-S adventurer.

One thing that surprised her was the guild's demographics.

There were more female adventurers than male ones.

The strongest warriors in the guild were mostly men, but many of them preferred drinking and relaxing over constant adventuring.

Yet one thing remained constant:

Any straight man who met Delia fell for her instantly.

Despite this, Delia was not the type to notice subtle hints. If someone had feelings for her, they would have to tell her directly to her face—otherwise, she wouldn't even realize it.

At this moment, the Silver Hawks Guild was in full celebration mode.

It was the 27th anniversary of the guild's founding, and the entire guild was drinking, laughing, and singing together. Food and drinks were completely free for the day.

Delia sat at the guild's bar, surrounded by a group of men, all trying (and failing) to get her attention. Meanwhile, the guild's women stood back, watching like hawks, making sure no one tried anything suspicious with their Delia.

Yes—their Delia.

Instead of calling her by name, the women in the guild had collectively claimed her as one of their own.

Delia never truly understood this behavior. She assumed it was just a "girl thing," since she never had the chance to bond with other women back at the cathedral.

Still, there was an unspoken rule among the guild members regarding Delia:

You couldn't flirt with her.

You couldn't get her so drunk that she couldn't think straight.

Most importantly—you could NOT take her to bed.

Everyone policed each other to make sure these rules weren't broken.

The women, in particular, were especially vigilant—sending warning glares at any man who even thought about trying something.

Their eyes sent a clear message:

"If you dare make a move on her, you're finished."

And while most men in the guild understood this silent agreement, there was one who did not.

Ronin, already tipsy, walked toward Delia's table with a bottle of ale in hand. He took a sip as he approached, unaware of the death glares being sent his way.

Once he reached her, he placed a hand on the table, leaning in slightly.

Delia looked up at him, her face slightly flushed from the alcohol. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on Ronin's face… but all she saw was—

A hairy potato.

A hairy potato with a very punchable expression.

Still confused, Delia asked in a puzzled tone, "Do you need something?"

Ronin nodded, then ran a hand through his hair, trying to look cool as he smirked.

In a low, confident voice, he said,

"Yes, I do. What I want… is you, Delia."

Silence.

Delia squinted at him.

Then, her eyes narrowed even further as she muttered, "What is this hairy potato talking about?"

A beat of silence.

Then—chaos.

The men sitting around Delia spat out their drinks, bursting into laughter so loud it shook the bar.

Ronin stood frozen, humiliated beyond belief. His face burned with shame, his confidence shattered into a million pieces.

And just like that, the legend of the hairy potato was born.

Ronin then immediately fainted right there out of complete embarrassment.