Directly after Vigil had stopped himself from stumbling forward after getting unexpectedly pushed by Elata, he quickly turned back to try and condemn the mischievous dwarf for her action.
However, by the time that he had turned around, she was already walking away, waving her hand as she'd done so.
'I will be getting back at her for that... Hmm?'
It was only now that Vigil had realized that he's been using those exact same words way too much as of late.
So much so that he had found himself questioning it.
'Have I always been like this?'
Deciding not to dwell on the matter too much, he then turned back around to face the mercenary hall once again.
Taking a few deep breaths in order to steel his nerves, the boy began walking towards the building that lay no more than a hundred meters away from him.
As he'd done so, he was soon able to overhear the lively conversations that those who were out front, drinking, were talking about. Some could be heard talking about a person named 'Valiant' while others were talking about the visit that Leonide and Culdrom had recently made to Mercy.
But as he was walking in between the tables and towards the currently open front doors of the hall, the seated peoples' discussions began to change.
"You see that kid? What's he doing here?"
"Hey kid! You're way too young to be here, so why don't you head back home and grow up a little before coming back again?"
Most of them began to talk about Vigil, and not in a good way. Well, most things were said in a joking manner but Vigil wouldn't be able to tell.
Even so, as he was passing by them while getting 'insults', as he would call them, thrown in his direction, his eyes never had veered away from the building.
After a full minute of getting berated by people, he had finally made it to the steps that led up to the front double door. As he looked up towards the top of the steps, he couldn't help but think to himself before entering the mercenary hall.
'Something smells nice...'
Honestly, Vigil didn't hear a word that was said after he overheard the first few things about Leonide, Culdrom and this Valiant character.
While spending time on battlefields, he had learned that it was better to cut out any excess noise other than what was close to him. That way he would be able to better focus on the threats at hand.
So unless he was called by one of his two names, Vigil, his real name, or Dread, his fake one, then he wouldn't listen to a thing that was said.
In layman's terms, everything had gone in one ear and out the other.
When Vigil had finished walking up the stairs, he had proceeded to look through the open doors of the hall, and what greeted his eyes was the sight of what could only be described as a ballroom turned tavern.
Attached to the ceiling were giant chandeliers that hung from long, sturdy chains. Off to the sides, either next to or around the giant pillars that held the building up, were different kinds of games, televisions, or bars with doors that led somewhere behind them, seemingly off into a kitchen.
Mainly a combination of the latter two, bars with televisions strewn about.
Dotted all around were chairs and tables, all with people sitting down at them.
While at the end of the giant hall was a large reception desk that spanned almost the entire width of the room.
On the other side of the large desk were about two-dozen people, all wearing different attires but with the same pitch black armband with the symbol of a sword in front of a toothy smile attached to their left upper arm.
After taking a few moments to let the sight sink in, Vigil began to move towards where he thought he would need to go to register as a mercenary, the receptionist desk.
After setting his feet inside the building, one person had soon caught sight of him, then one more, and another. Over time, more and more people began to look at him as he was walking.
Not saying a word, just staring.
At first Vigil didn't think much of it and kept walking in his original pace towards the desk at the other end of the hall.
However, after some time had passed, the boy began to realize something.
The people in here were not the same as the ones outside.
Just from their stares alone it felt as if an enormous amount of pressure had been slowly building atop his shoulders.
He didn't know why this was happening, only that it was.
Nonetheless, Vigil had lived through numerous battlefields throughout his life, and as he had done so, he'd gotten used to the sudden feeling of pressure.
The only difference between the two, the pressure of the battlefield and the pressure that he was feeling now, was that he didn't have to fear the risk of getting killed right now.
Thus, he kept moving forward.
By the time that Vigil was standing in front of the large receptionist table, pretty much the entirety of people within the hall, both workers and mercenaries, were now staring at him, wondering what a boy of his age was doing here.
Standing on the other side of the counter was a woman with long black hair that slowly turned into a deeply colored ocean blue as it reached the tips. As of currently, it was all being kept together with a singular large braid that fell over her right shoulder.
All of that paired together with her ocean blue eyes that matched the ends of her hair, the woman could only be described as drop dead gorgeous.
And Vigil would've been inclined to agree if it wasn't for how she'd looked just moments earlier...
As Vigil was closing in on his objective, the large desk, he had noticed the woman that was now standing just a few feet away from him.
It was only after he noticed her that she had noticed him, and when she did, a terrified look had crossed the woman's face, almost as if she'd seen a ghost.
However, even though it was only for a split second, Vigil had noticed it just before her shocked expression had turned back into the rightful demeanor of someone that works at a mercenary hall.
Sadly, from the looks of it, he was the only one that had noticed since everyone else's attention had been solely designated to him.
As Vigil was standing there, wondering if he should question what he'd just seen, the woman had started speaking to him.
"Why, hello there, little one! My name is Tiamat, how may I help you? Are you, by any chance, looking for someone at the moment? Or perhaps are you here to put in a request on behalf of someone else?"
She said with an upbeat yet soothing tone of voice.
In response to her questions, Vigil softly shook his head and instead responded with the real reason as to why he was here.
"I am here to become a mercenary."
With that one sentence, the entire room sprung to life with the whispers of all who heard it.
As people were whispering about, Tiamat told the boy about the age requirement of becoming a mercenary in hopes of driving him off.
However, it was the next few sentences that came out of his mouth that had caused the entire room to turn eerily silent once more.
"Oh? I was under the impression that all Children of War were able to become mercenaries, no matter the age. So please do tell, why can't I?"
A Child of War.
The last time that people have heard about a new one coming to Mercy was three years ago, when Valiant had ended her year-long journey through the barren wastes.
But now here they were, bearing witness to a kid that was claiming to be a Child of War.
Yet none of them had turned their heads back to the small boy after hearing this claim of his. They instead gave their full undivided attention towards Tiamat in order to see if the boy was indeed telling the truth.
"...No, you are indeed correct. All Children of War are allowed to become mercenaries regardless of age. With that being said, let's get started shall we?"
She said with a defeated expression that soon turned to one of kindness.
Although she hadn't said it word for word, the meaning behind her message was laid bare for all to interpret.
The boy was indeed who he had claimed to be.
Except before the room could erupt in an uproar one more time, Tiamat began to talk again.
As she did, she had asked a question that was now on everyone's minds.
"To start, what would you like your name to be written down as?"
Not even a moment had passed before Vigil had answered the question.
"Dread."