“I apologize for what I did three weeks ago. I’ve insulted you. I’ve attacked you. No, it’s even worse than that. I’ve tried to kill you. I know there’s no excuse, and no words can fix what I’ve done. I don’t expect you to believe me, nor do I expect your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it anyway. I just... I just want to say that I truly regret my actions, and I am ready to face the consequences. My life is yours, so use it as you see fit. Also, you’ve saved me in the dungeon, despite everything. So there is one more life I must repay. And then... there’s Tyra. She’s gone, so I want to apologize on her behalf, and I’ll bear the burden of her actions, just as I’ll bear my own. So, three lives in total. I owe you three lives. You might think it’s ridiculous, since I only have one to give, but just because I cannot repay it doesn’t mean the debt can be nullified.”

  Wow, that’s some long-ass speech.

  Viktor leaned back in his chair, stirring the spoon in his bowl as he watched the blonde-haired woman lower herself before the two members of Cedric’s party. Her hair had been tied up again. Back to the two good old pigtails, bushy and fluffy. And now, she was bowing so low that those pigtails nearly touched the floor. In front of her, Lucian and Noi’ri were utterly dumbfounded, not sure how to react to such a formal apology.

  They were, as usual, about to have lunch in the mess hall of the Adventurer’s Guild. On one side of the table sat Viktor, Cire, and Jeanne, while Lucian and Noi’ri were on the other. There was also an empty chair for Rhea, who had told them that she would join them ter. And when she arrived, she was not alone. A hesitant and awkward Alycia trailed behind. After Rhea gave her a nudge, the blonde-haired woman strode forward and spilled her heart all over the wooden floor.

  Lucian scratched his head, saying something something about how they only did what anyone would have done in such a situation, and how she didn’t have to worry about paying any debt. Typical do-gooder responses.

  Alycia slowly raised her head, letting out a sigh of relief as if a heavy burden had been eased from her chest.

  “You’re very kind, and I’m grateful for your forgiveness. But this debt... it cannot be erased so easily. From now on, if you ever need me to do anything, just say the words, and I’ll make it happen, no matter the cost. Let me begin with this...”

  She reached for the bag she had been carrying and hefted it onto the table with a loud, metallic cng. That sound alone had told Viktor exactly what was inside.

  “This is what my party has found from the dungeon,” the woman said. “It’s yours now.”

  Predictably, Lucian once again responded just as any do-gooder would. Something something about how he couldn’t accept it, and how she didn’t have to do this. Alycia, on the other hand, insisted that he and Noi’ri keep the money.

  Seriously, people should stop making a fuss about gold in public, Viktor thought. The other adventurers in the hall were staring, and while he doubted anyone would try to do something funny inside the Guild, attracting unwanted attention was never a good idea. He needed to stop the commotion before it got out of hand.

  “Just keep half of it, Lucian,” he said. “Without your party’s intervention, the gold wouldn’t have been here in the first pce. So consider it the fruition of the two parties’ joint effort.”

  Jeanne agreed, “Yes, that’s the best solution.”

  The boy was still hesitant. He turned to Noi’ri, who gave him a nod. “Alright,” he said. “We’ll take half of the loot.”

  And Viktor was not going to give Alycia a chance to protest. “Don’t push any further. Just shut up, sit down, and have a meal with us, ‘Master.’”

  “Yes,” Rhea said with a grin as she pced her hands on Alycia’s shoulders. “Let’s have lunch together.”

  Jeanne quickly stood up to fetch an extra chair from another table, and Rhea shoved the blonde into her seat.

  As they settled, Cire leaned in. “Why did you call her Master? And why did you speak so bluntly to her?”

  “Well, because she is.” Viktor took a sip from his mug of juice. “She’s promised to teach me everything about her gadgets.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard about that from her too,” Rhea said, cpping her hands together with a cheerful smile.

  “It looks like Quinn is the one who has helped Alycia recover from her trauma,” Jeanne said. “But... how did you do it?”

  He said matter-of-factly, “I spped her on the face. Twice.”

  The table froze. Everyone, except Rhea, who already knew what had happened, stared in shock. Their eyes went wide, shifting between him and Alycia, as if urging them to speak.

  The woman let out a nervous ugh. “Let’s not talk about it... I’ve gotten better. That’s all that matters. How about we talk about something else? Um... I heard that the Guildmaster has just been murdered, right?”

  Great choice of topic, “Master.”

  Needless to say, the atmosphere changed in an instant. Cire and Rhea’s faces darkened, Jeanne cast her eyes downward, and Lucian shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say, while Noi’ri awkwardly raised his cup of tea to take a sip. Even Alycia must have realized, too, that she had said something terribly wrong.

  “I... I didn’t mean...”

  “It’s fine,” Jeanne said at st. “You didn’t say anything wrong. And I don’t think that avoiding this topic will do us any good.” She turned to Cire. “How is the investigation going?”

  “Well, it’s still underway. We know that the Guildmaster was injected with poison through something like a needle. The killer did it after he was carried to his room. He was drunk, so he couldn’t resist. His room wasn’t locked, and the Guild was packed with people coming and going all night, even into the next morning. So, frankly, it could’ve been anyone.”

  “It must be Rennald,” Lucian said without hesitation, “or someone who works for him.”

  “Let’s not make hasty accusations,” Cire said. “We have no proof.”

  “Is there anyone else who has a reason to kill the Guildmaster?”

  Well, there’s one sitting right here. At this table.

  Cire sighed. “A lot of people think the same way you do. They headed for the caravan station, ready to stir up trouble. Calyssa had to do everything she could to calm them down.”

  “How is she now?” Jeanne asked.

  “Well, I’m not saying that she’s fine, but... the Chief Secretary is strong. Grief didn’t weaken her, but empowered her. She said she would take Guildmaster Gideon’s mantle and finish what he had started.”

  The biggest risks to Viktor’s pn were that Gideon’s death could tear the Guild apart or plunge the town into chaos, opening the door for powerful outsiders, like Clovis, to take over. But neither had happened. Now, with Marcellus ineffective in handling the outrage, Rennald absent from the public eye, and Calyssa stepping up to keep things under control, the situation was firmly in his favor. As long as everything remained unchanged, this was effectively a win for him.

  “So, is Calyssa now the Guildmaster?” Jeanne asked.

  “She is the acting Guildmaster,” Cire replied. “She’s in charge for now, until the Concve appoints a new Guildmaster.”

  The Guildmaster’s Concve, huh? It felt strange to know that the organization he founded three hundred years ago was still around today.

  Back in his time, the Adventurer’s Guilds were rgely local affairs, politically aligned with the towns, cities, or kingdoms where they were located. The ruling powers of those pces could appoint the Guildmaster, and through them, exert influence over the adventurers.

  After he brought down the kingdoms and dismantled the old system, uniting the entire continent under his reign, he created the Guildmaster’s Concve: a single, centralized body overseeing every Guild within his empire. An organization that was made by adventurers and run by adventurers, ensuring they would never again be subject to the whims of any monarch.

  After his death, the Empire colpsed. His castle was sacked, the capital city and surrounding settlements razed to the ground, the entire Central Pins ravaged beyond recovery. His enemies had done everything they could to erase anything he remotely touched. Yet, somehow, the Concve survived. He suspected it was because the so-called Six Heroes, despite having the same enemy, were essentially rivals. After they managed to kill him, they began to plot against each other, and the Guildmaster’s Concve became a useful tool to keep everyone in check, to make sure that no one would gain too much power.

  “How do they pick the next Guildmaster?” Rhea asked.

  “First, anyone interested needs to submit an application to the Concve,” Cire replied. “Calyssa’s already sent hers in, of course, but there may be other applicants. Then, they will conduct a rigorous evaluation of each candidate’s character, past achievements, and suitability for the role.”

  “Normally, for a Guild in a small town like this, the procedure is just a formality,” Lucian said. “There’s no competition, and Calyssa will get the job by default. However, with the discovery of the dungeon, I’m sure many are eager to vie for the position.”

  Clovis might try to make a move here, Viktor thought. It was possible that the fat man from Iskora would use his influence to have one of his underlings appointed. Nevertheless, he doubted that the new Guildmaster could convince the people of Daelin to sell the dungeon, and as long as the dungeon remained here, he didn’t really care who was in charge.

  “Where is the Guildmaster’s Concve located?” he asked. Not that it was important, but somehow, he still wanted to ask.

  “Up in the North,” Cire replied. “In the capital of the Kingdom of Brefjord.”

  Still in the same pce, huh? Brefjord, Celestia’s homend.

  “By the way, Cire,” Jeanne said. “I heard that you’ve been promoted. Is it true?”

  “Yes, it’s true.” Rhea nodded. “Starting today, Cire’s officially a Junior Secretary of the Guild.”

  Everyone raised their mugs in a toast to congratute her. Cire, on the other hand, could only manage a weak smile as she murmured her thanks.

  And really, who could bme her? Since Calyssa was now the acting Guildmaster, someone else had to fill her old role, and everyone down the line got promoted. So Cire, previously a receptionist doing the job of a Junior Secretary, was now a Junior Secretary doing the job of a Senior Secretary. As a result, her workload had doubled, and her pay was increased by—well, let’s not delve into such depressing details.