The Guildmaster leaned back in his chair, drawing a long breath before fixing his gaze on Lucien again.
"Well, that's just a minor piece of the puzzle I wanted to uncover myself, because the Capital was thrown into chaos while I was away, and the upper echelons might be plotting sothing. But I don't think you need to worry—at least not yet. Since there's a powerful clan at the center of this ss, they'll be drawing all the heat. And again, you saved a noble…"
He paused and studied Lucien with those aged, penetrating eyes.
"Still, I'd advise you to distance yourself from all this before it becos more dangerous."
He picked another piece of fruit and popped it into his mouth, chewing in thoughtful silence before resuming.
"The real reason I summoned you is to share both good news and bad news. Are you a pessimistic or optimistic fellow?"
Lucien regarded the Guildmaster with curiosity.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
The man shrugged.
"I just think pessimistic people handle bad news better…"
Lucien forced a slight smile.
"I don't think it works like that, though…"
'What a crude way of thinking!'
The Guildmaster scratched his temple.
"Doesn't it…"
He grabbed another piece and chewed thoughtfully.
Lucien folded his hands, his gaze steady.
"It's alright—hit with the bad news first. Things have been hellish for lately. Let clear out all the misery at once."
The man let out a brief laugh.
"That's a wise approach, Player Cien."
"The bad news is… the Mirrors want you to beco their lapdog. The good news is, you're going to beco a wealthy lapdog."
Lucien's head snapped up. Sohow, he felt a wave of déjà vu, even though the mont wasn't so distant…
And this triggered a sudden, ominous feeling.
He fixed the Guildmaster with a dark look.
"That word alone makes feel like there's no good news at all—just bad news and worse news."
The Guildmaster chuckled.
"How can it be bad if it involves money?"
Lucien scratched his head uneasily, pondering for a mont.
"While you might be right, it's hard for soone like —who's lived with wealth all his life—to see groveling for money as anything good. Still, I'm desperately broke right now."
The Guildmaster studied Lucien with an odd expression, saying nothing.
This made Lucien scowl.
"What?"
The man shook his head.
"Nothing troubling. I just find you… unusual. Different from most players here. Your dignity—it radiates."
Lucien understood sowhat where the man was coming from, or at least thought he did.
Most players who entered Evolution Online ca chasing success and riches. If you viewed the people here as re NPCs, then concepts like honor and dignity were aningless—because at the end of the day, they were just programs.
So naturally, NPCs would see players as soul-selling wretches who'd sacrifice anything for loot and power. That seed to be the very essence of being an adventurer—pursuing gains and strength above all else.
But Lucien wasn't like that. He was simply enjoying the experience. Although he also found himself in his own dire straits.
"Don't look at like I'm so destined savior—you're setting your expectations dangerously high. I don't want you dealing with crushing disappointnt because of your assumptions."
The man finished another piece, leaving two on the plate. He nodded thoughtfully.
"You're absolutely right—very considerate of you. Anyway, let shed so light on our current predicant."
He wiped his hands with a small white napkin before continuing.
"There's been a festering problem at the Federation's frontier—a band of savage barbarians… While they don't seem threatening now, they're rapidly growing stronger."
Lucien tilted his head but asked no questions, simply waiting for the man to continue.
"There's also a shadowy cult operating in the darkness, spreading the influence of a Devil Eye."
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
"Devil Eye? What exactly is that? The eye of so demon?"
The Guildmaster nodded slightly.
"Yes and no. While it is indeed a devil's eye, this particular eye seems to grant trendous and undeniable power to whatever it gazes upon. They call this gaze, grace. I hear even players are becoming a mber of this cult these days."
Lucien narrowed his eyes for a mont, pondered deeply, then asked.
"It couldn't be related to the strange mutations of the goblins, right? There were crimson ones, and even violet ones who were exceptionally powerful. Even the leader could speak."
The man chuckled.
"Spot on!"
"The evidence is thin, but the threads align."
Lucien studied the Guildmaster for a few seconds, then smirked.
"Yeah, you're not going to deceive that easily."
The man raised his brows.
"What do you an, Player Cien?"
"The Mirrors or whatever they are have plenty of Adventurers at their disposal—higher ranks, in fact—but suddenly I'm the chosen one? What's the catch? What's really happening?"
The man looked at Lucien, then sighed wearily.
The sun behind him was already climbing into the sky, rising above the wall's edge and spilling forth brilliant golden light. So of it filtered through the windows, bathing the office interior in warm, amber radiance.
"The Federation is facing turbulent tis. With the rise of factions, resources are flowing into players' hands, and the continent might be entering an era of war."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"As a matter of fact… this mission is a desperate gambit made in consideration of this threat."
Lucien remained silent for a mont, thinking.
'A war triggered by resource scarcity? What the hell is happening? Is the continent crumbling and the forums don't know about it?'
Everything Lucien had learned about the Western continent on the forums painted it as prosperous and peaceful—making him believe this was the perfect place for a beginner like himself.
But what was this alarming intelligence he was hearing? Whispers of war?
He shook his head.
'This will be a terrible ti to get caught up in a war. I need to find a way back to the real world first before I die for real.'
The Guildmaster, watching him intently, cleared his throat softly.
"Ahem, Player Cien, there's no need to worry about anything. Don't fret—the war might not even happen. But this Devil Eye threat is far more perilous if left unchecked. However, if brought under control, perhaps its power could serve the greater good."
Lucien remained silent for several monts, then sighed.
Of course, he knew they were pursuing this for selfish gain—to bolster their strength as a nation. How convenient that they wanted to hunt down an eye that could grant power and enhance people's abilities just when the continent teetered on the brink of war.
And it couldn't be only Rhamira pursuing it. If players were joining the cult, then certainly other factions were chasing this mysterious artifact.
Yet the Guildmaster was omitting that crucial detail, making this sound like a leisurely stroll. Lucien had already seen through this shaless charade. Any intelligent person would.
He closed his eyes montarily, thinking:
'At the end of the day, it all cos down to the reward…'
He opened them and fixed the Guildmaster with a steady gaze.
"What's the other piece of bad news?"
The man smiled faintly and clasped his fingers together on the table.
"You'll be granted noble status in the capital, an estate of your own, and first-class citizenship privileges. The Federation will also pay you a total of one thousand gold coins as monthly compensation."
Lucien arched his brows at the offer.
'Gold coins, not luns…'
Gold was universally accepted currency, while luns were the Federation's local tender. It was a solid incentive, a generous prize, but to Lucien this reeked of a sche to bind him permanently.
He shook his head and clicked his tongue.
"This is rather pathetic, but I can't accept this offer…"
Reviews
All reviews (0)