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As he ventured around the city for a bit longer, stretching his legs and taking in the crowded atmosphere one last time before he’d be back in that carriage for quite some time, he found himself looking in surprise at the sight before him.

He had returned near the inn, where the “carriage parking service” inhabited.

There was a man standing in front of a peculiar carriage; it was bright pink with polka dots and colorful flags displayed on its sides. Waiting in front of it were two completely opposite steeds: an all-white, majestic horse with a single horn on its head, and an all-black, brooding mare that exhaled steam from its nostrils.

A unicorn…? He thought.

But what caught his eye was the man preparing to set out in the carriage; a familiar set of orange hair and snow-white skin.

“Lawrence?” He said out loud.

He was proven correct in his assessment of who the man was as the clown-like adventurer turned to face him, though the man was now dressed in surprisingly lavish clothes–a departure from the ragged, half-naked get-up the man was wearing when they met previously.

Lawrence was wearing a colorful, blue-and-purple tailcoat, adjusting a gentleman’s tophat on top of his head as he looked at the boy.

“Ah, my dear friend–I was about to pay you a visit!” Lawrence said.

“A visit? Why?” He asked.

The answer he got was received in the form of the clown man reaching into his coat, retrieving a small pouch that was filled to the brim with coins._.

It was handed directly to him, surprisingly to him.

“…What’s this about?”

“Your portion of the payment–for the quest,” Lawrence told him with a smile.

“Why? I’m not an adventurer yet,” he asked.

“That may be true, but your assistance could not be denied–it’s only fair that you receive a portion of the reward, my dear friend,” Lawrence smiled.

It definitely seemed like a nice sum of change, as he could see the glint of crowns within the pouch, but he sighed out and held a smile, not accepting it.

“Instead of that, I have a favor to ask instead,” he said.

“Oh?” Lawrence looked at him.

“Can you give that to Reno–the girl that was with us yesterday?” He asked, “You can take some out as payment, if needed, but just make sure the majority of it goes to her.”

Lawrence’s expression was agasp for a moment before once again, the scarlet-eyed eccentric smiled, placing the pouch back beneath his coat, “As you wish, my dear friend. I will not question your benevolent motives, nor will I take any fee from you. In truth, I was going to pay the girl a sum of her own, but this amount will surely be life changing for one such as her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a small smile, “Thanks, Lawrence.”

“It’s truly my pleasure, my dear friend–let us cross paths once more on our journeys through this fabulous world,” Lawrence bowed.

With that, he felt a large sense of relief as he went on his way again, venturing down the street, not too far from the inn now.

I know if I tried to give her money outright, Reno’s pride would not have it. She’d reject it endlessly. At least this way, she can’t deny it. She earned it herself. I hope this helps improve your future, Reno, he thought.

As he returned to the inn, he already found Vandread outside, loading the carriage with the supplies he had picked up during their stay in Elsia.

“Oh, good timing,” Vandread said, noticing him.

“…Are we leaving already?” He asked.

Vandread glanced at him, “Yeah, change of plans–get in.”

“Err, alright…?”

Aiding the man, he helped pack in the rest of the supplies in the carriage, looking around at the city one last time, knowing soon he’d be staring only at trees and fields for days on end.

Ah, goodbye, cat girls…He thought.

He was left perplexed by this sudden departure, but he got inside of the carriage as Vandread finished bringing their new set of supplies in, closing the door behind them and snapping his fingers–signaling the horse to begin moving.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

As the carriage began rolling through the street, traveling through the city, he looked at Vandread, who seemed wary of something unknown to him.

“It’s coming,” Vandread said.

Of course, the answer given to him was anything but sufficient, but he knew this was the case when talking to the man of few words, so he pressed further.

“‘It’? What’s ‘it’?” He pressed.

“You won’t have to worry about ‘it’ if we move at the right pace and avoid ‘it’,” Vandread told him.

It was clear that the dark-skinned, scar-covered man was dodging the question, but it only served to make him more anxious.

“I’m not a kid,” he said.

“–” Vandread stared at him.

“I can handle myself. In the event whatever this ‘it’ is reaches us, I need to be prepared,” he told the man.

This seemed to finally get through to the tight-lipped, abrasive escort of his as Vandread quietly sighed out while ruffling his own, messy tufts.

“‘It’ is the ‘Hunting Party’,” Vandread admitted.

“‘Hunting Party’?” He repeated.

As the rolls of the carriage rolled over the nicely-paved, stone streets of Elsia, he looked closely at the man while listening intently, watching as Vandread nodded.

“It’s a Massacre-class threat, as classified by the Guild Foundation,” Vandread told him, “You know the danger ranking for quests and individuals, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It was something he learned from reading frequently at home: the “Danger Ranks of the Guild Foundation.” These were tiers given to missions and individuals to properly display what threat they possessed to adventurers.

The order went, from least dangerous to most: Casual, Lethal, Destructive, Massacre, Cataclysm, Bleak, and Doom.

A Massacre-level threat? Something that high of a danger rank is insane…He thought.

“The Hunting Party is a traveling band of knights that come and go with one telltale sign: fog. They aren’t normal knights–they’re magical entities of some sort; ghosts, spirits, demons–whatever you want to call them–they’re trouble. What makes them so dangerous is that fog–it’s blinding and makes it almost impossible to launch a counterattack, especially since the Hunting Party is apparently capable of vanishing within a moment,” Vandread explained.

“…Fog? Something like that sounds…scary,” he said.

This information made him remember the fog that sat outside of the carriage directly before they entered Elsia, but he brushed it off as a coincidence.

“That’s why we’re getting a head start,” Vandread told him.

“How can you tell it’s coming?” He asked.

It was a question that seemed important enough, as he wanted to know so he could figure it out for himself as well.

Vandread stared at him before tapping his index finger against the carriage window. This prompted him to gaze past the window, looking up towards the sky, which was immensely cloudy.

“What about it? Looks like it’s going to rain soon,” he noted.

“Weather like this is a giveaway–this region is all sunshine and rainbows during this time of year. Besides, I’ve heard some rumors around the guilds in Elsia,” Vandread told him.

It was all a bit sudden, but he knew better than to doubt Vandread, who at the very least seemed pragmatic in his ways–not the type to be overly paranoid if something didn’t merit such caution.

“…What about the city?” He asked.