As the man's fist arced through the air, aiming to strike Maxwell, it was halted inches from his face. A deafening crack echoed through the guild hall as the blow was intercepted, the sheer force of the clash creating a shockwave that rippled through the room, rattling mugs and toppling chairs.
Gasps filled the hall as all eyes turned to the adventurer. Standing firm, gripping the man's fist with effortless strength, was an adventurer with an air of calm authority. Arthur, Maxwell's party leader.
"Now, now," Arthur said, his voice polite yet laced with an undertone of steel. His smile was disarming, but his grip didn't falter. "Let's not forget the guild rules... no fighting inside the hall."
The larger adventurer hesitated, his face contorting between anger and unease. As strong as he was, even he knew the gap between their power was insurmountable. Arthur wasn't just strong—he was on a level few dared to challenge. With a reluctant grunt, the man withdrew his hand, backing away as murmurs filled the room.
Arthur turned to Maxwell and extended a hand, his smile warm and reassuring. Maxwell stammered his thanks as he was pulled to his feet, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. Arthur simply nodded, brushing it off as though it were nothing.
Maxwell's gaze dropped, but he couldn't ignore the weight of the stares around them. The Outcasts—the party no one respected, the guild's least loved members—had made another scene.
Their four-person party, true to their name, lived on the fringes of the guild's favour. The only exception was Arthur, their leader, who stood out like a shining beacon among them.
Arthur Pendragon, the leader of their Party and the very embodiment of a classic hero. With his chiselled jawline, Broad shoulders, and fiery red hair, Arthur exuded charisma. His confident Smile was enough to make hearts flutter, and his skill with the legendary sword Excalibur—a blade forged through the combined efforts of dwarves and elves—was Unmatched.
Arthur's reputation preceded him. He was a rising star among Adventurers, voted as the one with the greatest potential to defeat the Demon King. At power level 80, his strength and prowess were leagues above the rest Of the party. To many, Arthur was the perfect protagonist—the hero of every story.
But Maxwell knew better. Beneath Arthur's flawless exterior lay insecurities and burdens that no one else saw. Despite his outward Perfection, even Arthur wasn't immune to the weight of expectation.
Next was his best friend, Fay, a 310-year-old elf who stood Out with her long silver hair and piercing green eyes. She wore sleek body armour, its metallic sheen partially Obscured by a light cloak. Beneath her garments, faint markings etched into the Armour. Despite her age, Fay looked no older than Maxwell, a trait Common among her kind. Elves were naturally blessed with immense mana reserves and lifespans stretching over a thousand years. But Fay was an anomaly. Born with a mana pool far smaller than any other elf, she despised using magic altogether.
Instead, Fay relied on her intellect and ingenuity, favouring Science over sorcery. Her arsenal of gadgets, from explosive arrows to Mechanical traps, made her a formidable archer type adventurer. She was Maxwell's polar opposite in more ways than one. Where he believed in a supreme Being responsible for the realm's creation, Fay was a staunch atheist, Convinced the world was the result of random chance.
Yet, despite their ideological differences, their shared Love of books had forged an unbreakable bond between them.
Finally, there was Hana Watanabe, a swordswoman who radiated quiet Strength. She wore a flowing kimono with intricate patterns of cranes and Waves, paired with bandages wrapped tightly around her chest. Her short dark Hair framed her sharp features. Hana was a warrior type adventurer, her blade as sharp as her resolve.
With everyone accounted for, the group prepared for their Mission.
Their task was to clear a nearby dungeon, one rumoured to Have seven perilous levels. The dungeon wasn't far from the city—just an hour's Walk away. As they travelled, the scenery shifted from the bustling urban Streets to the rugged wilderness. Towering mountains loomed in every direction, Their peaks dusted with snow, and the air grew cooler with each step.
Arriving at the dungeon location, the Outcasts stepped Cautiously into the first level of the dungeon. The walls were damp, the air Thick with the musty scent of moss and stagnant water. Faint echoes of dripping Liquid punctuated the silence, adding to the ominous atmosphere.
Maxwell found his focus drifting, though not to the dungeon Itself. His eyes wandered to Hana, her movements graceful yet fierce as she Adjusted the sheath of her katana. She was breath-taking, even in the dim Light—a vision of strength and elegance. Maxwell's chest tightened.
He'd harboured a quiet crush on her for months, though he Knew it was hopeless. Hana's gaze would never settle on someone like him. Her attention, like her admiration, was wholly fixated on Arthur, whose strength And confidence embodied everything she valued.
Fay, ever perceptive, caught Maxwell staring and gave him a Sharp nudge. "Maxwell," she hissed, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Huh?" he muttered, blinking back to reality.
"You might want to focus," Fay said, pointing ahead. Maxwell Followed her gesture to see that they were surrounded.
Slimes.
The gelatinous creatures quivered and squelched as they Closed in. Their translucent forms glowed faintly, the remnants of adventurers' Gear suspended within them. They were level 1 monsters—pathetically weak by any Measure.
Arthur sighed and leaned casually against a wall, his Legendary sword Excalibur resting on his shoulder. "This one's all yours, guys. Hana and I won't waste our energy on something so trivial."
Hana gave a small smirk, crossing her arms as she stepped Back beside Arthur. "Don't take too long," she teased.
Maxwell's stomach sank, but he nodded. 'This is fine. I can Handle this.'
As the slimes moved closer, Maxwell readied his staff, Summoning what little mana he could muster. A fireball sputtered at the tip of His staff, its heat barely registering as he hurled it at the nearest slime. The creature let out a wet gurgle as it was blasted apart, its liquefied Remains splattering across the floor.
But there were more.
Maxwell gritted his teeth, launching fireball after Fireball, each one leaving him more drained. The slimes were easy enough to Kill, but their sheer numbers overwhelmed him. His robes were soon splattered With slime residue, parts of the fabric sizzling as the acidic goo ate away at It.
Fay, meanwhile, handled the creatures with ease. Her Mechanical gloves, a marvel of her own invention, hummed to life as they fired Compressed energy beams. Each beam evaporated a slime instantly, leaving Nothing but a faint wisp of steam behind.
Eventually, the last of the slimes was defeated. The cavern was littered with puddles of goo, and the air carried the faint smell of burnt Slime. Maxwell slumped against the wall, his chest heaving. His robe was in Tatters, with one sleeve nearly melted off.
Fay approached him, offering a hand. "You alright?"
"I'm fine," Maxwell muttered, forcing a weak smile as he Took her hand and stood. But inside, he felt far from fine.
Without delay, they descended to the next level of the Dungeon.
Fay noticed Maxwell's troubled expression as they descended Further into the dungeon. His shoulders slumped, his eyes fixed on the ground. She reached out to him, concern etched on her face.
"Are you oka—" she began, but her words were cut short by a Thunderous crash.
A giant troll thirty foot tall, dropped between them, its Sheer weight shattering the ground beneath it. The resulting shockwave sent Fay And Maxwell stumbling backward, dust and debris swirling around them. The roar of the troll echoed through the cavern, shaking the walls.
Before they could regain their footing, two more trolls Emerged from the shadows, their hulking forms illuminated by the faint glow of The dungeon crystals. Each wielded massive wooden clubs, their splintered edges Stained with the remnants of previous battles.
Hana was the first to react. Her katana flashed in the dim Light as she charged one of the trolls. The creature raised its club to strike, But Hana was too fast. In the blink of an eye, she appeared behind it. The Troll froze, its eyes wide in confusion before a crimson spray erupted from its Stomach. It crumpled to the ground, dead before it could even comprehend what Had happened.
Fay activated her technological armour with a practiced Motion. The suit hummed to life, its metallic plating gleaming. She aimed her Wrist-mounted missile launchers at the second troll and fired. A barrage of Explosive projectiles struck the creature, blowing it apart in a fiery blast.
Meanwhile, Maxwell remained frozen. Disoriented by the Earlier shockwave, he barely had time to react as the final troll loomed over Him, its club raised high.
"Move, Maxwell!" Fay shouted, but he couldn't. His legs Refused to obey.
The club came down—but it never reached him.
Arthur stepped between them, his broad frame blocking the Attack. The troll's weapon shattered against him like brittle glass. Arthur Stood tall, unfazed, though a single drop of blood trickled from the corner of His mouth.
Arthur's eyes narrowed, a deadly glint flashing within them. He glared at the troll with such ferocity that the creature faltered, its Courage evaporating. With a whimper, the troll turned and fled, disappearing Into the darkness of the dungeon.
Arthur wiped the blood from his lips and turned back to Maxwell with a dazzling smile. "Are you alright, my comrade?" he asked, his Voice calm and composed.
Maxwell exhaled in relief, trembling. "I'm fine, thanks to Yo—"
Before he could finish, Arthur's foot collided with his Stomach.
The force of the kick sent Maxwell flying across the cavern. He slammed into a wall with a sickening crunch, collapsing to the ground in a Heap. Blood spilled from his mouth as he clutched his side, gasping in pain.
"YOU FOOLISH, INCOMPETENT WEAKLING!" Arthur roared, his Voice echoing through the cavern. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAVE YOUR LIFE? I JUST BLED BECAUSE OF YOU!"
The disgust in Arthur's voice cut deeper than any physical Blow. His earlier smile twisted into a sneer as he loomed over Maxwell.
Hana and Fay stood silently, their expressions unreadable. This wasn't the first time they'd witnessed Arthur's cruelty toward Maxwell, And both knew it wouldn't be the last.