A tattoo of a snake coiled around an arm.
The moment she caught sight of the person bearing that tattoo, Ilse's mind was flooded crimson.
Her enemy. The enemy who had killed her kind parents and brother.
Had it happened inside a town, she might have been able to run to the guards or—if things went well—the Knight Order.
But her parents and brother, who were merchants, had been killed outside the town walls.
By an adventurer they had happened to encounter, no less.
Even now, Ilse still dreamed of that day.
Five years had passed since her parents and brother died, yet once every few days she was assailed by the same nightmare.
Without realizing it, she reached for the hilt of her dagger.
"Whoa there. You'd better not draw a weapon inside the Guild. At least not right now."
The moment her fingers touched the hilt, a hand settled on her shoulder along with those words.
"?!"
Ilse gasped at the voice that came from directly behind her.
She hadn't sensed anyone there at all until she was touched.
Of course, Ilse didn't possess the kind of heightened skill needed to detect presences.
Even so, as a woman who could fairly be called a beauty, she had grown sensitive to anyone approaching her from that angle.
Had she not developed that instinct, she would have suffered all manner of terrible experiences by now.
She spun around on instinct—and yet, perhaps the man's words had lodged themselves somewhere in her mind. Without drawing the dagger from its sheath, she took in the figure before her.
Standing there was a small man wearing a hood despite the heat.
"...Who are you?"
"An adventurer. From this town, Gilm. ...So, let me ask again—why were you about to draw your weapon?"
"That's..."
Ilse couldn't quite form an answer. She couldn't see the man's face beneath the hood, but his voice made it clear enough that he was male.
Seeing her hesitation, the man let out a small sigh.
He could easily imagine that she had some kind of circumstances behind her actions.
...Though to be fair, someone drawing a dagger inside the Guild without any extenuating circumstances could only be regarded as a dangerous person.
"A lot of things happened, okay? Please don't worry about it."
"...You say that, but..."
The man had just caught someone trying to draw a dagger inside the Guild. Being told to simply forget about it wasn't something he could just nod and accept.
Fortunately, not many people had noticed Ilse reaching for her weapon. ...Well, not that many.
Ilse was completely oblivious, but several adventurers inside the Guild had spotted her going for her dagger.
What was truly fortunate for her was that her enemy hadn't noticed.
In any case, Ilse now had to figure out how to deflect the conversation.
"Hey, Rei. What's going on?"
At that call, a woman addressed the man standing in front of Ilse.
The moment the man—Rei—turned toward the voice, Ilse spun on her heel and slipped out of the Guild.
(Saved.)
That single thought consumed her mind as she wove her way through the crowd.
To be precise, she couldn't think of anything else at all.
She had found her enemy—and yet she was relieved that she couldn't apprehend them then and there.
...Drawing a dagger in the Guild wouldn't have actually gotten her arrested, but unfortunately, Ilse had no way of knowing that.
Telling herself she just needed to get away from the Guild for now, she pushed through the throng of people.
Eventually, she arrived at a place with few people.
Since she had wanted to escape the crowds, this was only natural—which meant Ilse was now in one of the least populated areas of present-day Gilm.
Naturally, such places attracted the kind of people who couldn't readily show themselves on the main streets.
"Hey there, missy. What's your business in a place like this? Nah, never that—why don't you keep me company for a bit?"
"Wheeeew! Brother, you're quick on the draw when you're sweet-talking a girl, too!"
"Heheh, right? Listen, it's like this—no matter what you're doing, what matters most is speed. Acting fast means everything. And that's exactly how I'm gonna make this woman mine."
"...As if."
The man was boldly boasting to his companion, but a calm voice cut in.
For someone in the middle of expounding his personal philosophy, being interrupted was naturally irritating.
All the more so when it flatly denied his theory.
"The hell did you just say?!"
Annoyed at having his good mood ruined, the man snapped his gaze toward the voice—then froze mid-motion.
Ilse, following his gaze in the same direction, froze as well.
Ilse understood that she possessed a face men found highly desirable.
She wasn't arrogant enough to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but as an objective assessment, she knew she was attractive.
But the woman now standing at the center of Ilse's gaze was so stunning that Ilse felt ashamed for having entertained even a shred of that thought about herself.
"Huh?"
A sound of sheer incomprehension slipped from Ilse's lips.
Her beauty was less refined than it was striking—vivid and dynamic.
She wore thin, diaphanous garments that looked almost see-through, and going by that alone, she could easily be mistaken for a dancer or a prostitute.
Her figure, moreover, was so thoroughly emblematic of femininity that even Ilse found herself swallowing involuntarily.
For Ilse, who lacked confidence in her bust regardless of her facial features, this woman seemed to embody the very phrase "the perfect woman."
Though Ilse was captivated for several seconds by the woman who had apparently come to her aid, she quickly snapped back to reality.
These were men who had been aggressively hitting on her.
If that was how they behaved, then faced with a woman clearly more beautiful than herself, surely they would turn on her just as roughly.
But despite several tens of seconds having passed since the woman appeared, the men showed no signs of bothering her.
Why? Ilse wondered, glancing toward the men—only to find them trembling.
"Huh?"
The same sound escaped Ilse's lips once more.
But the intent and emotion behind it were entirely different from before.
Since they had been so forceful with her, Ilse had assumed they would do the same to the newly arrived woman. She could not have been more wrong.
The men were shaking at the mere sight of the woman who had just appeared.
Why?
If Ilse had even the slightest ability to read an opponent's strength, she would have understood why the men were trembling.
Unfortunately, Ilse's talent for combat was meager at best, and she could not begin to fathom just how much power the person before her wielded.
"I-It's... Vihera-san. What are you doing in a place like this?"
"I saw this girl running this way. Thought maybe I should check—and sure enough, I was right."
The men, fixed with a gaze that carried a hint of a smile, couldn't focus on Vihera's beauty or her provocative clothing. They could only shake.
These men were among those who had come to Gilm drawn by the expansion construction.
But they had fled, unwilling to do physical labor, and now loitered regularly in this area leading toward the Slum District.
Because of that, they knew Vihera well—she who patrolled Gilm assisting the guards. And they had seen, with their own eyes, those who were blinded by her beauty and beaten down for their trouble. They hadn't died, but the sight had been pitiful.
With someone like that standing before them, it was no wonder the men cowered.
Vihera was a flower of the highest quality, but that beautiful flower naturally bore thorns.
And those thorns didn't merely protect—they were aggressively barbed, actively piercing into anyone who came near rather than waiting to be touched.
Given that, unless someone had absolute confidence in their own abilities, they would never dream of laying a hand on that flower.
Much less here, where even the adventurers present were the sort who had run away from hard work.
Against Vihera, they didn't stand a chance.
All they could do was try to settle things as peacefully as possible.
"N-No, no, it's nothing like that! It's just—this young lady was heading toward the slums. We were only trying to stop her."
The man forced a smile as he said this.
Vihera studied him for a moment, let out a small sigh, then turned her gaze to Ilse.
"What do you want to do? If you'd like to make this an issue, I'll go with you to the guards' station."
"N-No. That won't be necessary."
As someone plotting revenge, she wanted to avoid any involvement with the guards.
Though Vihera likely didn't grasp Ilse's reasoning, she shifted her gaze from Ilse back to the men and spoke.
"Lucky for you—it's not becoming a problem. ...But if anything does happen that causes trouble, and I find out about it... you understand what'll happen, right?"
The men nodded frantically at Vihera, who asked the question with a radiant smile.
They understood perfectly well that the gap between their strength and hers was so vast that the very thought of fighting her never even entered their minds.
"Then let's get out of here. A place like this is no business of someone like you."
"Um... yes."
Honestly, Ilse had no desire to return to the crowds. But after Vihera had gone this far out of concern for her, she couldn't bring herself to refuse.
In the end, Ilse let Vihera lead her back toward the main road.
"Mn."
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
When they emerged from the alley, someone who could fittingly be called a child was waiting for the two of them.
To be precise, the child was waiting only for Vihera.
"Umm...?"
"Ah, don't mind her."
With that, Vihera shot an exasperated glance at the child who was stuffing dried meat into her mouth—Byune.
"Byune, how can you eat dried meat in this heat? I couldn't even think about eating something like that without wine."
"Mn!"
What meaning that single word carried, Ilse—listening nearby—could not begin to decipher.
But Ilse was alone in that. Vihera understood the meaning woven into that one syllable as naturally as breathing.
"Don't be like that. If you think about it, lots of people lose their appetite in summer."
"Um... Vihera-san, was it? You can actually understand what she's saying?"
The question slipped out almost involuntarily, directed at Vihera, who was carrying on a conversation that was utterly incomprehensible to Ilse.
Vihera smiled and nodded.
"That's right. Normally you might not be able to, but after spending enough time together, you start to get it somehow."
"...Is that how it works?"
On the face of it, that was very hard to believe.
But having witnessed it firsthand, she had no choice but to accept it.
"Be that as it may... what are you going to do now? From the look of you, you're an adventurer... right?"
Vihera asked, deducing as much from Ilse's leather armor, crafted from monster hide, and the dagger at her waist.
Ilse wasn't hiding her profession, so she confirmed it honestly.
"Yes. Though I'm only an F-Rank low-rank adventurer."
"...You've got nerve, coming to Gilm at that rank."
"Yes. The person I'm looking for is... in... Gilm..."
Ilse nearly blurted the answer out in response to Vihera's words, then caught herself—realizing what she was about to say—and faltered.
What saved her was using the phrase "the person I'm looking for" rather than "revenge target" or "enemy." And, more than anything, the fact that Vihera didn't pry.
"...Huh. Well, Gilm is packed with people right now, so I wouldn't count on finding whoever you're looking for that easily. Why not post a request at the Guild?"
Vihera had sensed that Ilse had her own circumstances, but without pressing the matter, she offered the suggestion.
Naturally, Ilse shook her head.
She had already found the person she was looking for—her enemy.
She had no desire to do anything that might draw attention to herself, however briefly.
"Is that so? ...Just remember—if you cause any kind of commotion in Gilm, I'll be the one to deal with it. Don't forget that."
With that sharp parting warning, Vihera walked away alongside Byune.
Ilse could only watch her retreating back in silence.
Involuntarily shuddering at the edge still lingering in Vihera's gaze.