Loading...
The documents never change. The lines don't move. Fifteen years of stamping forms at the Twin Blades Beacon Guild have worn an elbow-shaped groove into the counter, and something quieter into Shinji Tsubaki himself—the man with no luminescence, no aptitude, no story of his own to tell. He listens to adventurers' tales of monsters and glory every day, and feels nothing. That's just how it is. That's fine. Really. Then the ground opens in his garden. It's not the first time a ruin has surfaced i
Loading...