Chapter 85: The Weight Of A Coin

The road back to Greyvale City felt different beneath Mina’s feet. The terrain hadn’t changed, the dirt path still meandered lazily between low hills and scattered trees, and the sky above remained the same washed-out blue it had been when she left.

It wasn’t even her body, though every muscle ached from the fight she’d endured, the soreness settling deep in her bones like an old friend.

What had shifted was the weight. The pack on her back was heavier, much heavier than when she set out, but it wasn’t just the physical burden pressing against her shoulders.

It was the quiet certainty that came with it. She carried not just proof of survival or strength, but something of value. Tangible, measurable value that the world recognized and rewarded.

Mina walked steadily, neither rushing nor dragging her feet. As she passed travelers heading in the opposite direction, merchants with carts, guards on patrol, and the occasional wandering Warrior, more than a few cast curious glances her way.

Some noticed the oversized shield strapped to her back; others caught sight of faint stains on her clothes that hadn’t entirely washed away. A few sensed something deeper and instinctively stepped aside.

Mina didn’t pay them much mind. Instead, her thoughts drifted to numbers: one hundred gold coins for the mission alone, that much she knew for certain. Sage had made that very clear when he processed the docket.

But beyond those twenty hearts, she also carried fangs, claws, intact hides, blood essence, and even properly processed cuts of meat.

She wasn’t a merchant by trade but had grown up around mercenaries long enough to recognize value when she saw it. This haul was… unusual.

Not every hunt yielded such rewards. Sometimes you killed beasts only to find nothing worth selling beyond their core proof; other times you struck lucky once in an entire season.

But felt as if Ashfall Woods itself had decided to reward her for daring to venture deeper.

Mina adjusted the straps of her pack and let out a small, satisfied hum. “I did good,” she murmured to herself.

By the time Greyvale’s outer walls came into view, the sun hung low in the sky, casting warm light across stone surfaces and gilding the city in soft amber hues.

The gates stood open as they always did; guards stationed at either side wore relaxed postures that spoke more of routine than alarm.

Mina passed through without incident. The city welcomed her with familiar sounds, vendors calling out their wares, laughter drifting from open tavern doors, the steady rhythm of everyday life continuing unbothered by what lay beyond its borders.

For a brief moment, she felt a stark contrast: outside lay ash and blood; inside were coin and conversation.

She quickly made her way toward Gryphon District and soon reached the Adventurer Guild. The building stood solid yet unassuming from outside but buzzed with quiet energy within.

Mina stepped inside without a moment’s hesitation, and the familiar hum of voices enveloped her instantly.

The Guild Hall was bustling. Adventurers gathered near the Mission Board, some engaged in quiet debates over routes, while others boasted loudly about their recent exploits.

Along the walls, individuals lingered, scanning faces with calculating gazes. The air was tinged with the scents of metal, parchment, and something sharper, blood that hadn’t yet dried on someone’s gear.

Behind the receptionist desk sat Sage, as if he had never moved from his spot. Leaning back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest while the other rested near a neatly stacked pile of documents, he appeared relaxed, almost bored. Yet his eyes flicked toward Mina the moment she entered, brightening just a fraction.

“Well, well, well,” Sage said as she approached, straightening slightly. “If it isn’t Greyvale’s most industrious Copper Rank.”

Mina grinned, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. “Petty Uncle Sage! I’m back.”

“I can see that,” he replied dryly, his gaze drifting pointedly to the massive pack slung over her shoulders. “And judging by that thing, I assume the forest didn’t treat you too unkindly.”

Mina stepped up to the desk and set down her pack with a solid thud that drew curious looks from nearby adventurers. She reached into a side pouch and produced a sealed container holding twenty hearts.

Carefully placing it on the desk, she watched as Sage opened it with unhurried movements. He began counting each heart with practiced precision, lifting each one just long enough to confirm its integrity before setting it aside.

“One… two… three…”

Mina felt an unexpected wave of anticipation wash over her, not doubt; she knew she’d completed the mission, but something akin to satisfaction, the kind that comes from having one’s efforts acknowledged.

“Eighteen… nineteen… twenty,” Sage concluded with a nod of approval before sliding the container aside. With a swift motion, he reached for his stamp and brought it down onto the mission docket with a firm thump.

“Mission complete,” he declared.

At those words, Mina felt something settle comfortably in her chest.

Sage stood then and turned to one of the cabinets behind him. He opened it and placed the container inside among others, orderly and categorized, before returning to his seat. His gaze flicked once more to Mina’s pack.

“That’s not standard issue,” he observed.

Mina puffed out her chest slightly and put on a proud face. “I got lucky.”

Sage arched an eyebrow. “Define lucky.”

Instead of answering verbally, Mina opened her pack and began pulling out items one by one: thick hides, gleaming claws, fangs still sharp; vials of blood essence sealed tightly; cuts of preserved meat wrapped carefully.

A murmur spread among the nearby Adventurers as they took notice.

Sage leaned forward, his curiosity piqued despite himself. “Looks like you ventured deeper into the forest.”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “Since I was already there, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to explore a bit more.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Sage replied, his tone dry yet amused. He picked up one of the claws and examined it closely before placing it back down. “You do realize you could’ve been killed?”

Mina shrugged casually. “But I wasn’t.”

Sage chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fair point.”

He leaned back again, fingers tapping lightly against the desk as he surveyed the array of materials before him. “This is quite a haul.”

“I know, right?” Mina said proudly. “Not every beast drops something valuable, but today was different. I’m going to sell all of this.”

Sage’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You might just become the richest Adventurer, if you can outdo that green-haired one.”

Mina’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Of course that’s my goal! I want to trample that green bush under my delicate foot, and maybe even end up richer than you!”

Sage leaned back lazily and regarded her for a moment before letting out a short laugh. “Careful now; ambition can be a dangerous thing.”

She grinned unabashedly. “I’m serious!”

“I don’t doubt it,” he replied with a nod. “But flatboard princess you know, I make a cut off every mission in this hall. You’d have to solo a dragon to out-earn my passive income.”

“Still,” Mina said as she gathered her items back into her pack, “I’ll have more money than when I left.”

Sage returned her grin and added, “If you want to achieve that dream, you’ll need to surpass that green-haired rival before you can compete with me.”

He reached beneath the desk and pulled out a pouch heavier than the last one he’d given her. The dull clink it made when he set it down sent a thrill through Mina.

“Here’s your reward,” Sage said, handing it over as promised.

Mina opened the pouch just enough to glimpse its contents, her smile widening in delight, until suddenly it faltered.

Her fingers tightened around the pouch as an unbidden thought arose: her sister. The image flashed in her mind, crimson hair, sharp eyes, the familiar weight of protection and expectation.

Slowly, she closed the pouch.

Sage noticed the change immediately. “You did well,” he said softly now, his teasing tone replaced with sincerity. “You should be proud.”

“I am,” Mina replied, though her gaze drifted toward the Guild doors. “I just…”

She trailed off.

Sage didn’t press further.

Taking a steadying breath, Mina slung her pack over her shoulders again; its weight felt different now, not burdensome but grounding instead.

She turned to leave, stopping for a moment at the doorway.

“She should be back by now,” she whispered to herself.

Sage watched her walk away, his face settled into a thoughtful mask, the gears of contingency plans beginning to turn behind his eyes.

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