Aran exhaled as he lowered his glass onto the bar’s countertop. He couldn’t help but glance around the room. Although he didn’t personally know anyone, he still knew them. Who amongst the adventurers in Fuselage couldn’t recognize the big names? Chad from The Black Hounds. Tina from Swirling Wind. How many bigshots were here? It was rare to see any of them in Fuselage, but now, they were gathered like common weeds.

There was a screeching sound as the stool beside Aran was pulled back. A woman with ice-blue hair sat down and glanced at Aran’s weapon, a large red sword resting against the countertop. “That’s a big sword,” the woman said and smirked before glancing at the lower half of Aran’s body. Her eyes shifted upwards to meet Aran’s gaze. “You must be Aran, the leader of the Red Blade Adventurers.” She placed her hand on Aran’s thigh. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Aran stared at the woman with a blank expression. Even though he didn’t like how she was touching his body, he didn’t dare show any displeasure on his face. Anyone who could receive the Edward family’s auction invitation wasn’t someone he could offend. He might’ve received an invitation too, but it was his first time coming here. “You are…?”

The blue-haired woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t know me?” she asked and touched her chest with her hand. Her mouth hung open for a bit before she burst out into laughter. “It’s understandable you don’t know me. I’m Chelsea Edward. Without me, you would be back in Fuselage, eating crabs or whatever it is you adventurers eat these days.”

Aran nodded. It was a really good thing he hadn’t shown any displeasure. “Thank you for your invitation, Miss Edward.”

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me,” Chelsea said. She withdrew her hand from Aran’s leg and grinned. “My friend and I are having a little wager. She recently came into the possession of a basilisk and has been going on and on about it nonstop. I was tired of hearing about it, so I told her any adventurer from Fuselage could defeat it without breaking a sweat. She didn’t believe me. As such, you’re going to kill that basilisk for me. It’ll be even better if you do it in one attack.”

Aran furrowed his brow. “A basilisk grows stronger with its age,” he said. “How old is it?”

“Am I an animal researcher?” Chelsea asked and rolled her eyes. “How would I know? Regardless, if you don’t kill that basilisk, it’s going to kill you.”

Aran relaxed his expression. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you can take your party and get off my island,” Chelsea said and smiled. “Don’t even dream of coming back.” She giggled. “Of course, it’s not like I’m making you work for me for nothing. I know how you adventurers love rewards.” She ran her finger down the flat part of Aran’s sword. “If you win in a satisfactory manner, I’ll get you a new sword just as large as this one, one with a blade completely made of orichalcum.”

“It’s just a basilisk,” a gruff voice said from behind Aran. “What are you hesitating for? If you don’t accept her offer, I will.”

Aran turned his head. His eyes widened, and he grabbed the hilt of his sword. The person behind him was wearing what looked like a dress made of large scales. Although the outfit looked a bit comical, Aran didn’t dare laugh. Not everyone could wear armor made completely out of dragon scales. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why. Dragons were huge. Killing one would provide enough scales to outfit over a few dozen people. “You’re—”

“Joseph,” the man said and grinned. “Leader of the Dragon Slayers.” He shifted his gaze onto Chelsea and smiled. His mustache and beard glistened with grease from his previous meal. “I’ve heard a lot about you from the other adventurers, Miss Chelsea.” He placed his hand on the countertop between Chelsea and Aran, his arm blocking both their views of each other. “How about you and I get to know each other better?”

Chelsea snorted and climbed to her feet. “Aran, ignore this brute and come with me.”

Aran slung his sword on his back and ignored Joseph’s ugly expression. The leader of the Red Blade Adventurers reached into his pocket and placed a few gold coins on the countertop before following after the blue-haired woman. No one here was good to offend, but his pride as a man and a leader wouldn’t let him bend his knees before another party leader. If he was going to obtain the favor of one party and offend the other, he’d much rather gain the favor of the party that regarded him highly.

“Red Blade Adventurers, eh?” Joseph asked as Aran walked past. “You better pray you don’t bump into me in Fuselage. Even your mommy won’t be able to recognize you when I’m done.”

Aran’s eyes narrowed, but he ignored the man’s words. He caught up to Chelsea and asked, “Where are we going?”

“Didn’t I already tell you?” Chelsea asked and crossed her arms. Her heels clicked loudly as she stomped on the stone walkway. “We’re going to see my friend, and you’re going to kill her basilisk.”

Aran furrowed his brow. He wanted to ask if this friend of hers really was a friend or not. He really wanted to know. Maybe they were truly best friends, and maybe nobles enjoyed killing each other’s pets. Maybe they were rivals, and Chelsea was just using friend to describe their relationship. However, upon seeing the look on Chelsea’s face, Aran decided it be best to keep his mouth shut.

After a few minutes of walking, the two arrived at a large courtyard. “Here we are,” Chelsea said to Aran. She pointed at the metal gate. “Cut it down.”

Aran blinked and drew his sword. So far, it seemed like the relationship between Chelsea and this friend of hers really wasn’t that good. Aran grunted, and fire seemed to coalesce along the blade’s edge. He swung downwards, and the gate split in half, molten iron threatening to drip from where the sword had passed. He raised his foot and kicked, causing the gate to swing wide open.

“Good,” Chelsea said and nodded. She kicked the other half of the gate and nearly fell over from the action, only managing to stay on her feet thanks to Aran catching her arm. She huffed and brushed his hand away before fixing her dress. Then, she marched past the broken gate and into the courtyard. “Jocelyn, I’m here! I hope you’re ready”—she turned around a corner while speaking—“for—oh? Who are you?”

Aran turned the corner as well and flinched. There was a massive basilisk, one that was easily the size of a baby dragon, lying on its back. It must’ve been over two hundred years old. On top of its exposed belly, there was a shirtless man. He was sitting with his legs crossed, and he seemed to be rubbing the creature’s belly as if it were a large puppy. On the ground, there was a noble lady lying face down in the grass. Judging by the large bump on her head, she was knocked out by someone. The shirtless man raised his head, revealing a pair of golden eyes. Their irises were slit, shaped like a dragon’s.

“Me?” the man asked. “I’m Vur.”