Chapter 120: The Crack
The guildhall was already bustling that morning, the sll of roasted beans from the nearby tavern mixing with the leather, steel, and sweat of countless adventurers. Quills scratched over parchnt as clerks updated records behind the long counters, and the ever-present clinking of coin pouches set the background rhythm of the hall.
At the center counter, the receptionist’s voice rang out above the din.
"Congratulations, Sir Karl. You are now officially registered as a Rank B adventurer."
Her polite smile was professional, but her eyes betrayed the faintest glimr of weariness. She had seen too many faces like Karl’s before—puffed up with self-importance the mont they were handed a higher badge.
Karl held up the silver-edged insignia for everyone nearby to see, chest puffed out and chin high. He gave it a theatrical polish on his cloak, making sure the light from the chandelier overhead caught on the engraved ’B’.
"Hah! Just as expected. Rank B suits perfectly," he boasted, his grin stretched wide.
The receptionist simply nodded in encouragent, careful not to feed into his antics.
One of Karl’s teammates—thin, wiry, and always trying to curry favor—leaned in with a conspiratorial tone.
"Oi, Karl, have you heard the news?"
Karl arched a brow. "News? What now?"
"They say a crack’s opened up. Big one. And guess what? Even nobles are starting to move in on it... nobles from Aurith, too."
Karl frowned, lowering his badge slightly. "Aurith? But isn’t the crack inside Iridale’s borders?"
The teammate shook his head quickly, lowering his voice further as if sharing a juicy secret. "That’s the thing. It’s in a no-man’s land, territory neither side really claid. Normally it’s ignored, but with a crack appearing there? Interest has spiked like wildfire. Both kingdoms might end up trying to stake a claim."
The rest of Karl’s party muttered in agreent. One of them, a woman with cropped hair and twin daggers at her hips, leaned her elbows on the counter. "Could be dangerous, though. When kingdoms start sniffing around, adventurers like us can end up as pawns. Don’t want to get crushed between their boots."
Karl smirked, waving her concern away with a lazy flick of his wrist.
"Politics? Bah. I don’t care for all that highborn squabbling. But opportunity..." He tapped his newly acquired badge with a smug grin. "That, I care for. If we can catch the eye of so noble house—Iridale or Aurith—it doesn’t matter. We’ll be set for life. And ? Becoming Rank B at this exact mont? Heh. It’s like the world itself favors ."
He laughed, loud and unrestrained, drawing a few annoyed glances from nearby adventurers. His badge glinted again in the morning light as if it were in on the joke.
---
The city’s noise faded the further they walked, until cobbled streets gave way to cracked stone paths half-swallowed by moss. Behind a crumbling mansion—its roof sagging and its windows blind with dust—stretched an overgrown garden. Tangled vines claid what once might have been hedges, and wildflowers pushed up through patches of broken flagstone. The air slled faintly of damp earth and pollen, alive with the quiet hum of cicadas.
Ethan led the way, pushing aside a curtain of ivy to reveal a shaded alcove. "Here. No one cos around this place. The perfect spot."
Lirael’s steps slowed as she looked around the secluded greenery, brows knitting in doubt.
"Are you really sure I’ll get my class here?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of skepticism.
Ethan shook his head. "Not here exactly. The class assignnt doesn’t care about scenery. But if you vanish for days like I did, people will start asking questions. Best we avoid that." He glanced at her over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "You rember when I disappeared, right?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah... that ti. I was very worried, you know."
He chuckled. "Heh. You worry too much. Anyway, that’s over now. Let’s see how yours goes."
She gave a small, reluctant nod, but her eyes stayed on him as if searching for reassurance.
Ethan had already prepared for this mont. His system screen still lingered in the corner of his vision—
> SP: 20,560 / 90,560
Most of it had gone into awakening her potential and paying the "absolute necessary sacrifice." What remained, he invested in her survival.
From his pack, he drew out ten vials of deep crimson liquid, their surfaces glimring faintly under the dappled sunlight, and another five filled with pale golden fluid. He pressed them into her hands.
"Mid-tier healing potions. Ten of them. A thousand each. And five mid stamina potions—eight hundred apiece."
Lirael blinked down at the vials, wide-eyed. They were expensive enough to bankrupt most adventurers outright. The glass felt heavy in her palms, not just in weight but in worth.
"Is... is all this really necessary?" she asked softly, almost guilty to even touch them.
"They’re necessary," Ethan said firmly. "Trust , I learned the hard way. The system doesn’t let buy things during the trial. When I realized that..." He exhaled through his nose, his expression briefly tightening. "Let’s just say I cried tears of blood."
Lirael gave him a flat look, then muttered under her breath, "...You can buy anything, anyti, and you’re crying about it? You and your system... walking cheat."
A grin tugged at the corner of Ethan’s mouth. "Takes one to know one. You’ll thank later."
Lirael sighed, tucking the potions carefully into the leather pouch he handed her, though her muttering didn’t stop. The overgrown garden around them rustled with a soft breeze, as if nature itself were holding its breath for what was about to happen.
Ethan pulled up his system interface, the faint, translucent light of the panel casting a ghostly glow across the shaded garden.
> Subject – Lirael Vaerune (Servant)
[Comnce Class Assignnt Trial]
"Trial, huh..." he muttered under his breath.
He tapped the command.
The response was imdiate. Lirael’s body went rigid, her posture frozen as if soone had whispered stop into her very soul. Her pupils glazed, unfocused, drifting into a far-off haze as though her spirit had been plucked away.
"Lirael?" Ethan called softly. No answer.
Alarm prickled down his spine, but he moved quickly, catching her before she slumped to the ground. He cradled her against his chest, her body warm and breathing steady, yet her expression eerily calm—almost dreamlike.
"...What the hell?" His brows furrowed as he studied her still form. This wasn’t what he’d gone through. He’d been dragged into a brutal battlefield, a combat gauntlet ant to test him through blood and pain. But her? She hadn’t vanished at all. No sudden portal, no change in the world around her. Just... this trance.
He stared at her face for a long mont, then a thought clicked.
"Trial... but not combat," he murmured. "Then maybe... it’s in her mind."
The mory of his own ordeal surfaced—the illusion after his fight, the visions he’d been forced to confront. His jaw tightened. "A ntal trial, then?"
Her breathing remained slow, steady. The garden’s breeze rustled through the ivy-covered walls, carrying the scent of damp earth. Birds sang sowhere distant, the sound incongruous with the quiet weight of what was happening.
Ethan brushed a loose strand of silver hair from her cheek. "Figures. Of course your trial wouldn’t be the sa as mine."
His eyes flicked to the pouch at her hip, heavy with potions he’d painstakingly purchased. A wry smile tugged at his lips.
"Looks like I didn’t need to hand you all that after all. Can’t exactly drink potions inside a dream."
For a mont, he simply held her, staring at her entranced face. The stillness of it unnerved him more than any battlefield.
"Well... nothing I can do now but wish you luck, Lirael," he whispered. "Whatever they’re making you face in there... co back stronger."
The words drifted into the garden air, swallowed by the rustling leaves, as Ethan adjusted his grip and settled into quiet vigil, determined not to let her face the trial—ntal or otherwise—without soone guarding her body.
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