"Guild Master!"
At the sound of those words, the crowd instinctively parted, and my eyes locked onto the man descending the stairs. His brow was tightly wrinkled, his expression dark with irritation—as if he’d been dragged out of sothing far more important than dealing with a lunatic with a broken table leg.
But I didn’t care about his mood.
There he was.
Exactly the person I’d co to et.
There was no way a nobody like , soone with zero connections and no impressive status, could et the Guild Master through normal channels.
So I had created my own.
That was exactly why I’d chosen this approach.
Walking in politely, asking for an audience, or trying to negotiate?
He would’ve brushed off like so botherso kid.
But creating a disturbance—one loud enough to shake the guild’s walls—was the fastest way to drag the Guild Master out himself.
And just as I expected, the man appeared at the entrance of the hall, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room.
"Who are you," he demanded, his voice deep and wary, "to be causing trouble in our establishnt?"
His gaze was sharp, evaluating , asuring the threat I posed.
If things ended here, I would look like nothing more than an impulsive lunatic who knew how to get attention.
But I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
I t his cautious stare and spoke a single na—quietly, almost gently.
"...Dora."
The reaction was imdiate.
His eyes widened. His shoulders stiffened.
A crack appeared in that professional calm he tried so hard to maintain.
"Don’t you want to know where her pendant is?"
"How do you know that na...?"
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
The mont the bait left my mouth, the hook was already set.
The silence stretched between us, thick and tense.
The Guild Master’s jaw clenched, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he tried to read —who I was, what I knew, how dangerous I could be.
Then, after several long seconds...
"...Co inside," he said quietly. "We’ll talk."
He took the bait in one clean bite.
Exactly as planned.
-----
The mont the Guild Master turned his back and motioned for to follow, the bustling guild hall seed to split in two—noise behind , silence ahead.
I stepped after him.
The further we walked, the quieter and heavier the atmosphere beca.
Past the reception.
Past the mission boards.
Past the rooms ordinary adventurers never got to see.
Finally, he opened a reinforced door and gestured for to enter.
The office inside was nothing like the rowdy guild hall.
Neat stacks of docunts, a ticulously organized desk, and walls lined with locked cabinets—each holding items that radiated faint mana.
He shut the door behind us.
Only then did he speak.
"...All right," he said, voice low and controlled. "Talk."
His eyes were locked on .
No hostility.
Just caution—and a hint of desperation he was trying very hard to hide.
I didn’t sit.
Instead, I stood there, eting his gaze.
"You have ten seconds to tell why you know Dora’s na," he warned, voice low and dangerous. "After that, I’ll decide whether you walk out of here on your own two feet."
A threat.
A predictable one.
If he actually intended to attack, he would’ve done so the mont I opened my mouth.
This—this was posturing. A final attempt to assert dominance.
Too bad for him.
"Shouldn’t we sign a confidentiality agreent first?" I asked casually.
The Guild Master’s eyebrow twitched.
"...Tch. How do you even know I have one of those...? Fine. Here."
Without breaking eye contact, he opened a drawer and pulled out a thin, rune-inscribed sheet of parchnt. The mont it touched the table, faint blue symbols shimred across its surface.
A confidentiality pact.
A single-use artifact created by the Magic Tower—pricey enough to empty a noble’s purse, strict enough to make even hardened criminals sweat.
A binding contract that seals the agreed information within the parties who sign it.
Break it, and consequences follow. Painful ones.
This man wasn’t normal.
To survive in back-alley circles this long, you needed more than brute force.
You needed instincts. Judgent. Restraint.
Which ant—
I had to treat him more carefully than most.
"Sign," he said.
I pressed my thumb to the paper. Runes blazed bright.
A rush of magic surged through my body, as if icy threads were weaving themselves around my ribs and spine, sealing the pact in place.
The Guild Master nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. Now our conversation stays between us." He leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "So—what are your terms? You must want sothing from ."
"I have two conditions," I replied, eting his gaze head-on. "First, find a location with the characteristics I’m about to describe."
Deciphering the riddle-like bookmark by myself would’ve taken days—maybe longer.
That’s why I ca here.
The information guild had eyes everywhere in the capital.
If anyone could point in the right direction, it was them.
"And second," I continued, "I want you to provide with Cain’s Tear."
The Guild Master stiffened.
"How did you...!" He stopped mid-sentence, exhaled sharply, and waved a hand. "—No. No, never mind. For the sake of my sanity, it’s better if I don’t question how you know that."
I almost smiled.
That reaction told everything—Cain’s Tear was indeed here, just as I thought.
The guild master folded his arms, studying for a mont before finally nodding.
"Both conditions are within my power to fulfill. Very well." His eyes sharpened. "Tell more about the first condition."
"I’m looking for an old cathedral," I said. "I believe it’s sowhere in Ambrosia."
"Ambrosia has dozens of abandoned cathedrals," he replied. "Most of them ruins. Do you have anything more specific?"
"’Fallen wings.’ That’s the only clue I have. I don’t know the aning behind it, but it’s probably important."
"Cathedral... fallen wings..." he repeated, sinking into deep thought.
The room grew quiet except for the faint scratching of quills from guild mbers in the distance.
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