chapter 18:The war between and the jealous storm

Chapter 18: The War Veteran and the Jealous Storm

The guild hall buzzed with the usual chaos—mercenaries drinking, arguing over missions, and boasting about their latest kills. The scent of roasted meat and ale mixed with the musty air of old parchment and metal, giving the hall its distinct rugged charm.

Rin sat at a dimly lit corner table, flipping through mission postings with mild disinterest. Ray sat across from him, recounting another one of his exaggerated stories, his hands moving animatedly.

"—and just as I was about to land the final blow, the bridge collapsed! Ice everywhere, nothing but sky below me," Ray said dramatically.

Rin raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said it was a stone bridge."

Ray hesitated for a beat before laughing. "Did I? Hah! Must've been thinking of another mission."

Before Rin could press further, the heavy wooden doors of the guild slammed open with a resounding thud. A gust of cold air rushed in, carrying with it the sharp scent of blood and damp fur.

Silence fell over the hall.

A lone figure stood at the entrance.

She was tall, her presence demanding attention without a single word. Her wild, red hair cascaded past her shoulders, unrestrained and untamed. A steel gauntlet covered her right hand, the dark metal gleaming under the dim lantern light. A battered cloak, frayed at the edges, draped over her shoulders, its deep red fabric darkened by streaks of blood.

Ezra had returned.

Without a word, she stepped forward, dragging something behind her. With a casual flick of her arm, she tossed a massive frost bear onto the wooden floor. The beast's lifeless body thudded heavily, its thick fur stained with crimson.

A few mercenaries leaned forward, whispering.

"That's a berserk frost bear…"

"Those things are damn near impossible to kill alone."

"She barely looks winded."

Ezra stretched, cracking her knuckles before walking toward the counter.

"Mission complete," she said lazily, tossing a bloodstained parchment onto the table. "Now, where's my money?"

Engine, the ever-composed guild broker, flipped a page in his book before sliding a hefty pouch of gold her way. "You never change, do you?"

Ezra smirked. "Why would I?"

Ray leaned toward Rin, lowering his voice. "Ezra was part of The Dying Sun Squad. Back when the guild first formed, they were the top team. Rumors say they disbanded after their leader—"

"Shut it, Ray," Ezra said without even looking his way.

Ray coughed awkwardly. "Right. Anyway…"

Ezra turned, scanning the room. Then, she pointed at four individuals.

"You. You. You. And… you."

Rin blinked. "Wait, me?"

He looked at engine knowing this was part of his doing

Ezra nodded. "I'm putting a team together for a mission. We leave in two days."

The others she had chosen included:

Charlotte, a timid blue-haired girl whose eyes widened when Rin glanced at her. She clutched the hem of her robe, her cheeks turning pink.

Champa, a towering warrior with thick, shaggy hair and tiger-like pupils. His stance alone exuded the power of a seasoned fighter.

Ezra tossed a thick document onto the table. "Study it."

As she turned to leave, she suddenly veered toward Engine.

And without hesitation, kicked him between the legs.

A collective gasp filled the hall.

Engine doubled over, his face twisting in pain. "A-Ahh—Ezra—what the—"

"That's for cheating, you lying bastard!" she declared before storming off.

Laughter erupted throughout the guild.

Still clutching his stomach, Engine groaned, "I didn't cheat… I was strategic…"

Rin smirked slightly. This new team… might be very interesting.

Far from the rowdy guild, within the vast halls of the Balotelli estate, an entirely different atmosphere lingered.

Elsa Balotelli lay sprawled across a silk-covered chaise lounge, her silver hair cascading over the pillows. The warm glow of candlelight flickered across the marble walls, reflecting in the large, ornate mirrors that lined the room.

Despite the serene setting, Elsa's sharp eyes remained half-lidded in thought.

Something felt… off.

A subtle shift in the air. The faintest flicker of movement—barely noticeable.

She exhaled softly. "Speak."

From the shadows, a figure emerged.

He was soundless, moving with a grace that made it seem as though he had been part of the darkness itself. His presence was neither threatening nor comforting—just there.

Without a word, he held out a single photograph.

Elsa took it, barely glancing at it—until she saw the image.

Rin.

Smiling.

With her.

A blue-haired girl—Charlotte.

For a moment, the room was eerily silent.

The delicate fingers that held the photo trembled slightly before tightening. The paper crinkled under the force of her grip.

The shadowed figure remained still.

"Who is she?" Elsa's voice was soft. Deceptively soft.

"A guild member. Charlotte."

A pause.

Then—rip.

The photograph was torn clean in half.

The once serene expression on Elsa's face darkened, her pale lips pressing together in a thin line.

A slow breath. Controlled. Measured. But the storm beneath was unmistakable.

"Prepare my chariot," Elsa ordered, her voice like ice.

The man bowed. "Understood."

As he vanished back into the darkness, Elsa rose from her seat.

She walked toward the grand window, the moonlight illuminating her face, casting a cold glow over her porcelain skin.

Her fingers loosened, letting the torn photograph slip from her grasp. The pieces fluttered down, landing soundlessly on the marble floor.

"I'm going to meet my boyfriend," she murmured, her lips curling into something between a smirk and a scowl opening her wardrobe with torturing tools.

And with that, the storm began to move.