The Crimson Hound's banner flapped against the wind of the spring.
The Mercenary Street was as busy as always, and there were hundreds of guilds lining up the road.
With hundred other guilds, Crimson Hound looked like just any ordinary guild, and it wasn't eyecatching for bystanders.
It had already been around seven months since they came to the Ebonreach, and they had struggled to make a name for themselves.
An incident that happened beyond the wall a while back was a big setback for the guild, and they were still trying to recover from it.
At the current moment, the front door closed because of the wind, but then a person opened it and stepped inside with a backpack hanging over his broad shoulder.
He looked around the guild building with a smile on his face—it looked like he was quite impressed and pleased.