"I guess problems spring out just about everywhere. It doesn't take a mad god to create dangerous situations." ~Shallies Mythernal, Semi-Retired Godkiller

Everyone around Shallies used Scan on her as soon as she entered the scene. She denied all of them, including the Quest Handler and the Quest Client. A slight flex of her mana disrupted their Skills, forcing them to fizzle out. Only mana: she had her Stellar Mana completely veiled.

This was her way of taking control of the situation. Any high-level adventurer could disrupt a Scan from a low-level one. It would take a special kind of focus and mastery of the Skill to get through those high-level defenses. In Shallies' case, it would be an achievement and a half, and that would most likely draw her attention more when compared to the looming brute.

The Wroth Fell looked around for his axe like a rabid dog, growling every which way without a care for his surroundings. His party members looked frightened. They had abandoned re-attempting a Scan on Shallies, stepping back and away from their vanguard.

"What's wrong with him?" Shallies asked calmly as the brute completely ignored everyone and walked towards his weapon. True, she could identify what was happening to him, but a common response would be to ask the people he worked with first. This way, she could hold her cards close to her chest and avoid looking suspicious to them.

"I—I don't know!" said the short lady. She had gray hair tied up in a bun, and her blue eyes had exchanged fierceness for helplessness.

Saying 'short' was a little presumptuous, as far as Shallies was concerned. They were around the same height. But the wider ears, the clumped up hair, and the slightly longer limbs made it obvious that she was a halfling. A cousin to the dwarves and gnomes, branching out on a different lineage. These people were charismatic and agile fellows, usually the life of the group or their quietest, stealthiest companion. It wouldn't be rare, however, to find one or two who were just as loud and aggressive as this little adventurer. The most hearty, and quite possibly the most passionate.

At least she's meant to be that tall…

Despite these good things that defined her species, the halfling's words gave no help. Shallies turned to the human. He had slightly longer hair compared to most guys, dyed in dark red and neatly fixed backwards with a hairband. The same as the halfling, his blue eyes were filled with desperation.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what's happening, either," he said, readying his shield. "But we have to stop him."

"Find a healer," Shallies said to the Quest Handler. "Anyone you can grab quickly."

"On it." The Handler gave a stern nod and left.

"What did you hunt?" Shallies asked the group, keeping an eye on the brute while she positioned the client behind her. The brute's steps were now lethargic, suddenly losing all his aggressiveness, but he was still on his way towards his axe. "Aside from the crolikins, I mean."

"A noldzwjak," the halfling replied. "There's a swamp dungeon about a day's caravan ride from here."

"How did you kill it?" By this point, Shallies had an inkling of the brute's issue.

"Sliced its head clean," the human replied.

"He did it," the halfling added, pointing towards their Wroth Fell.

"He must've ingested its blood by accident," Shallies concluded.

Noldzwjaks were half-golem, half-dragon terror incarnates. A flightless creature, it instead utilized its ability to blend to its surroundings like a gargoyle, then strike at the most opportune moment. Their blood carried extremely potent hallucinogens and poison that ate at the victim from the inside out.

"I think so, yeah," the human said, trying his best to stay calm. "He spat some of it when he killed the monster, but he probably swallowed some by accident. Is that the cause of the issue?"

"You should research your prey more carefully next time," Shallies said, making sure she didn't use a scolding tone. "Noldzwjak blood makes him imagine things while it also rots his organs. It's a good thing he's still conscious. It means we can still save him. How long ago exactly was the kill?"

"We rushed back here, so almost a day to a full day," the halfling replied. Now that she knew they were dealing with the situation, she repressed her passion somewhat. "Can you please help him?"

"We need to buy time until a healer shows up." Shallies looked to the client who was calmly assessing the situation. He seemed worried, for sure, but not to the point that he was panicking. "Make sure you stay behind me."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied without complaints. "You seem capable. Mind if I hire you?"

"Not interested." Shallies returned her attention to the two adventurers who were at least still of the right mind, now preparing to fight their own comrade. "We need to restrain him until the healer arrives. Make sure he doesn't escape the Hall and cause problems outside. We don't want any casualties."

With an objective in mind, the adventurers found their anchor and nodded. Shallies took that as a sign of their cooperation.

"Form up," she began, deducing their roles without using a Scan. She pointed at the human in knight armor. "Take point. We'll pin him."

As soon as the Wroth Fell grabbed his axe, he unleashed a bellow that caused everyone to take a step back. Everyone except for Shallies. She withstood the Crashing Roar easily, but the others, including the client, clutched their heads and fell to the ground.

That simply meant that this brute had left from the party with the two adventurers, and his intent clearly was to harm them. If his only target was the client, the other two would've been fine, protected by the Party System. With them incapacitated however, probably for a few seconds, Shallies was the only one left. She easily took his attention.

Now that she got a proper look, the bald brute turned out to be a giantkin, or giants that had exchanged their enormous size for proper intelligence. It was not an evolution of their species, rather, it was the aspect they'd exchanged to give in order to properly integrate their will into the System and earn a Class. At some point during their advancement, however, they could regain the ability to revert to their original form, if only for a moment.

As far as Shallies was concerned, this brute didn't look like he had crossed such a threshold. His lack of experience, which had caused him to swallow noldzwjak blood in the first place, told her that much.

At least, that's one problem out of the way… He was still an enormous man made out of muscles, however.

In a single breath, the Wroth Fell closed the distance between him and Shallies. He had his axe raised, cleaving down in a deadly arc.

The Guiding Star slipped to the side with a skillful step, guiding her opponent's momentum out of balance with a simple flick of her hand. She made a second step as the brute completely flipped in midair, confused and frustrated. With a swift twist of her center, she buried a fist straight into his stomach.

Shallies saw the brute grit his teeth as he was sent flying straight across the Guild Hall, crashing on empty tables and chairs. Like a machine, he simply stood back up, casually spat blood to his side, and charged again.

She expected as much. While Support Classes in the raiding scene were expected to be able to handle hand-to-hand combat for situations exactly like where they were now, a Guiding Star's physical damage would simply do nothing to those who could literally tussle with monsters three or more times their size.

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The human in knight armor intercepted the brute, his shield raised in an attempt to tackle him. He was the first to recover from the Crashing Roar. Their collision caused a small reverberation within the Guild Hall, shaking lamps and shelves and everything else that was not properly secured. At the very least, he successfully stopped the Wroth Fell in his tracks.

"Snap out of it, Gar!" he exclaimed, pressing on their locked clash. He wasn't gaining any ground.

Gar ignored the man's plea, recklessly grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him out of their clash. For a normal opponent, who instinctively prioritized their own safety over that of the enemy, it would've been easy to avoid. Against one who was uneager to hurt him, however, the maneuver was quite effective.

"Ren, look out!" yelled the halfling. She was clearly a Spellcasting Class, slowly gathering mana for a restraining Spell. It was painfully obvious that this type of Magic Skill was her forte, but that she was still lacking in Skill Proficiency with it.

To his credit, Ren, the man in knight armor, quickly realized he had no choice but to fight back or he would be slammed into the ground like a playing stick of a savage kid. He quickly locked his legs around the giantkin's elbow joint and twisted the other way.

The sudden change in direction broke the Wroth Fell's arm, making it go limp and release the knight. He rolled to the ground, recovered, and quickly pounced on the giantkin's back. With both arms wrapped around his neck, he tried to lock him into a submission hold.

Ren didn't have flimsy arms, but Gar was simply so muscular that a mere flex was enough to keep him from fully locking the submission. A feat probably only possible for a giantkin.

Gar retaliated with a simple skull bash, flinging his head backwards into Ren's nose. He didn't even care that one of his arms was broken.

Surprised by the sudden headbutt, it took all of Ren's will power to hold on. That was enough for the giantkin to use his unbroken arm to pull the knight off of his back and swing him up front, slamming him down to the floor. The poor guy coughed up spit and blood, holding his back in pain.

Gar refused to let go. He roared and lifted Ren back to the air, taking a step to slam his quarry back down with more force.

Shallies reached out with mana-control at the same time the halfling finished with her Spell. She had waited for the incantation to finish, taking advantage of its manifestation to hide her own control over mana. She did it without any gestures, in order to avoid getting noticed.

Time Slow was the Spell's name, a Magic Skill that effectively slowed down everything on the target, be it buffs duration, debuffs duration, movement, Skill cooldowns, or whatever else. The halfling infused the Spell with an enhanced effect, making it difficult for the Wroth Fell to resist.

A fine Magic Skill, and somewhat complicated. Given the amount of time it took for this halfling to cast the Spell, Shallies determined the low Skill Proficiency and the lack of accompanying Passive Skills.

Advanced Class at most… Not good.

It wasn't a comment about the halfling, but more of their situation. An Advanced Class wouldn't be able to hold Time Slow for long. Shallies touched the caster's shoulder and channeled her mana.

"Keep it up," she said, despite the strained surprise on the halfling's face.

Ren finally noticed he was no longer in danger. With little effort, he managed to set himself free from the brute's clutches, moving as if he hadn't been thrown on the floor mercilessly just a few seconds ago. And when he realized that the Time Slow was still in effect, he looked to the halfling with surprise.

"Tayin! How are you doing—?" He immediately noticed Shallies' hand on his comrade's shoulder. "That's a lot of mana."

"I know!" Tayin exclaimed, exhilarated. Her gray hair fluttered with power despite being tied in a bun. "It's amazing!"

"Good, looks like it's working," Shallies nodded. "Keep him restrained. If you feel like he's breaking free, let us know."

It didn't take long for the Quest Handler to return. With her was, unsurprisingly, Grace and another woman in casual wear with an apron. The new person on the scene didn't bother with introductions and went straight to the problem.

"Does anyone have the details?" she asked, tying up her blonde hair in a ponytail. Her yellow eyes studied the brute at a distance.

"Noldzwjak poisoning," Shallies answered. "A little past a day at most."

The stranger looked at the two adventurers. "Tell me you got some blood vials from it."

They quickly searched their Class Inventory. Right away, Ren called out, retrieving a small tubed vial with bright red blood.

The healer breathed a sigh of relief. She took the vial, recited a quick incantation and performed a Lesser Miracle, manifesting yellow light to surround the blood vial. While she was purifying the blood, Shallies struggled not to raise her eyebrows.

What's a Flame Devout doing in a place like this?

Devout were a branch of specialized Hero Classes tied directly to a god or few. While said gods were not obliged to acknowledge the people who hold these Classes directly, the mortals themselves could channel their divinity through sheer faith, thus allowing them to perform Lesser Miracles. In this case, the Flame Devout wielded the Flame God Syfrus' purifying aspects.

Shallies was confident that her veil was still intact, but just in case this Lesser Miracle attracted the god's attention on a whim, she tightened her guise twofold. Syfrus was too spontaneous of a god to care for boundaries, and too honest to read context clues.

"Make him drink this," said the Devout. She passed the vial back, giving it to Ren. "Forgive me, but I don't want to risk getting hurt."

"Will this heal him?" asked the knight.

"It should. Purified noldzwjak blood alleviates hallucinations while serving as an antidote to its own poison."

While Ren carefully administered the antidote, Grace pulled the Devout towards Shallies.

"Shallies, this is Amabelle, she works at The Swallowing Whale." The young Spell Sword gestured back and forth. "Belle, this is Shallies."

"Hello," Shallies said, reaching out with her free hand. "Apologies, I have to keep channeling mana to Miss Tayin here."

"Yes… please," the halfling said, struggling. "I've long since ran out of mana."

Amabelle took the hand for a shake. "No problem. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Shallies. I heard you're making competition for us?"

"A friendly competition, I hope."

"I sure hope so, but that's not for me to decide."

"So what's a Flame Devout doing in a province so far away from the cities?" Shallies asked, not holding back her curiosity.

"I suppose it's the same for your case," Amabelle replied with a smile. "The Mayor isn't exactly a quiet person when drunk. An adventurer sometimes finds that adventuring and raiding isn't for her, and wants to settle down."

"We're pretty far and few between," Shallies commented.

"And yet, including the Mayor and his wife, there are four Hero Class Adventurers in this town. Five, including the Guildmaster."

"I suppose it's big enough for us."

"That it is."

Grace grinned throughout the entire conversation, silently turning back and forth towards whoever spoke. Finally, she couldn't hold herself back.

"I told you she was amazing!" she said to Amabelle. "Channeling mana! I didn't even know you could do that!"

"I never doubted you, Grace," the Flame Devout replied, patting the young adventurer's head. "I think we should check on Gar and the others now."

Just then, Tayin relaxed and released her Time Slow Spell. Just for good measure, Shallies transferred a little more mana to make sure the halfling didn't pass out from exhaustion.

"It'll dissipate soon," she said when Tayin noticed. "Make sure you recover your own mana before then, or you'll pass out. Maintaining a Spell like that must be pretty exhausting for you."

The halfling nodded and retrieved a mana potion. The small metal vial with a blue gem encrusted on its lid was just about the size of a wristwatch without the strap. She downed the liquid and stored the vial back to her Class Inventory.

Satisfied, Shallies observed Ren and Gar. The giantkin was on the ground, breathing normally. Amabelle approached and analyzed his condition.

"He needs rest," she said simply. "He'll be okay."

"I can find people to carry him to the infirmary," said the Quest Handler.

"Well, now that that's done, I suppose there's no way for you to get my stonehorns now." A voice that had stayed silent finally spoke. The client had taken one of the chairs, well away from the commotion.

"Wait, we can still do something about it!" Tayin said.

"I know you're doing your best, miss, but I'm not exactly swimming in bits to afford you some leeway. Let's face it, with one of yours out of commission, you can't hunt for noldzwjaks anymore. If I give you the quest complete along with its rewards, and I come back to my boss with two missing stonehorns, my employment will be in danger."

"You said you're giving them the rest of the day, right?" Shallies asked.

The entire time the client was talking, Grace had been staring at her. She had quickly realized the situation, understanding context clues unlike some Flame God out there. All the while, she was asking Shallies to help them.

Shallies didn't exactly have any intentions to help, but she wasn't outright rejecting the idea either. For one, stonehorns weren't exactly a rare thing that only noldzwjaks could possess. For another, Ren's group had temporarily lost a member, and she knew exactly who could replace him.

"I did," the client said. "You're not saying you'll help them get those horns within the day, are you? That's extremely kind of you, you know?"

"Not exactly me." She pointed to the young Spell Sword beside her.

Grace took a step back, blushing at the sudden attention from everyone. Her eyes widened and her neck tensed. She pointed to herself.

"Eh…? Me?"

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