Chapter 41 – The Offer
Ethan and Lirael kept pace side by side, their strides matched without a word. Aina and Maya followed, walking with their newly assigned party mbers.
Leading the way were three B-rank adventurers, their eyes scanning the terrain ahead. Two others drifted at the flanks, ready to respond to sudden threats, while the last—nursing an injury—kept to the middle of the formation.
The path ho proved almost disappointingly uneventful. They crossed a few stray mobs, but the encounters were so trivial they barely warranted a second glance. The larger beasts, sensing the dangerous aura of the group, gave them a wide berth.
The march beca easygoing, the tension of the morning slowly giving way to quiet conversation and the steady rhythm of boots on dirt. Before long, the rough wooden walls of the village ca into view, rising above the tall grass.
A guard at the gate spotted them first, his hand tightening on his spear before recognition lit his eyes. He leaned toward his companion and murmured an instruction. The second guard nodded and jogged toward the guild hall, no doubt to deliver the news of their return.
The gates creaked open, and the group filed inside. The villagers glanced up from their work—so curious, so relieved—but most simply returned to their tasks. Word of adventurers coming and going was nothing new here.
Inside, the air felt warr, almost comforting after the forest’s quiet chill. The B-rankers broke formation, exchanging brief nods before heading toward the guild. Aina and Maya trailed after them, chatting with their new allies, their expressions lighter than before.
Ethan’s eyes swept the streets out of habit, noting small details—the tightened straps on guards’ armor, the faint sll of cooked at drifting from an open tavern door, the clink of coins from a nearby stall. It was peaceful... almost too peaceful.
Lirael, walking beside him, tilted her head slightly. "You’re scanning again," she murmured.
"Old habit die hard." he replied without slowing.
By the ti they reached the guild hall, the front doors were already swinging open. A tall man in the guild’s uniform stepped out, his gaze moving across the group before settling on Ethan.
"The guildmaster wants to see you," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argunt.
Ethan’s gaze flicked toward Lirael, a silent question in his eyes, before returning to the tall man.
The man’s expression didn’t shift, but his voice carried a firm edge."Only you."
A subtle crease ford between Lirael’s brows, but she didn’t speak. Ethan gave her a small, reassuring nod before stepping forward. The crowd outside the guild seed to fade from his awareness as he followed the man inside, the steady thud of boots against wooden floorboards marking their path deeper into the hall.
Ethan followed the tall man through a quiet corridor at the back of the guild hall. The muffled noise of the main room faded until all that remained was the sound of their boots against polished wood. They stopped before a broad door—its surface worn but well-kept.
The man rapped his knuckles against it.
"Co in," a voice called from inside, deep and steady.
The tall man gave a brief nod toward Ethan before stepping aside. Ethan pushed the door open and entered.
The room that greeted him spoke of long years and hard-earned prestige. Frad monster sketches and faded maps hung neatly on the walls, broken up by mounted trophies—fangs, claws, and the weathered hilt of a sword long past its pri. Toward the far end stood a heavy oak table, a guild banner hanging proudly behind it.
Seated at the desk was an old man with silver hair and sharp eyes that seed to weigh and asure Ethan in an instant. Despite the lines of age across his face, there was no mistaking the quiet power that clung to him.
"Co, sit," the man said, gesturing toward a chair opposite his desk.
Ethan complied, settling into the seat.’Haaah... it feels like I’m in an interview,’ he mused. ’Brings back old mories.’
The guildmaster’s lips curved slightly but he didn’t waste ti."I’ve heard about your feats during the raid," he said. "You’ll be rewarded properly, of course. After all—who can refuse when six B-rankers have their sights on you, eh?" A low chuckle followed before his tone sharpened.
"Still, your progress is... astonishing. What was your age again?"
"Twenty-seven, senior."
"Twenty-seven... and most likely Awakened. Young. Far too young for what you’re capable of. And with a formidable partner at that. It fits perfectly."
His gaze held Ethan’s."There’s a competition being held soon in the Iridale Kingdom. A duo competition. The most attractive prize..." he paused, "...is a Viscount’s title to the leader of the duo. You understand what I’m saying, right?"
"Yes, senior. I understand."
"Tsk. Drop this ’senior’ business—just call Master or Teacher Edric."
"I understand... Master Edric."
"Hmm, that’s better."
Leaning forward, Edric’s voice took on a businesslike tone.
"A promising adventurer who earns nobility brings prestige to the guild. Even more so for the one who recomnds them. So I won’t ask you to be modest—it’s more of a trade. Win the competition, and all I ask is that you say you were recomnded by , Edric Vaughn. In return, you’ll have the guild’s full support, access to more benefits, and my personal backing. What do you say?"
Ethan’s expression didn’t waver.
"That’s a tempting offer... but I could enter without a recomndation, couldn’t I?"
Edric’s smile widened slightly.
"Insightful. Yes, you could. But with my recomndation, you’d bypass all qualifying rounds and go straight into the main matches. VIP treatnt. Better accommodations. And, of course, the advantages I’ve already ntioned."
Ethan leaned back slightly, eyes flicking to the guild banner before returning to Edric.
Nobility... higher status, fewer unnecessary problems. I don’t see any downside to being recomnded by him. He’s clearly powerful, and in a duo format... I’d have Lirael with .By then, I’ll have my class, and my growth will accelerate. Lirael’s seal would be removed, too—she’d be at her full strength.The rewards... gold is a given. But the real problem is... my current strength.
It was as if Edric had plucked the thought straight from his mind.
"The competition is set three months from now,"
Edric said, leaning back in his chair. The leather creaked softly under his weight.
"And judging from what you’ve achieved in just two weeks... I’m confident you’ll be far stronger by then."
Ethan held his gaze for a mont before nodding slowly.
"Then it’s settled. I’ll participate—with your recomndation."
"Good." Edric’s smile deepened.
"That’s exactly what I wanted to hear."
He reached into a drawer, the faint scrape of wood on wood filling the pause, and produced an envelope sealed with red wax. "Here. Take this."
Ethan accepted it, the paper cool and slightly rough under his fingers. "The recomndation?" His lips quirked faintly. "Seems you already knew I’d accept."
"Well,"
Edric chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound,
"no sane person would refuse it."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning casual.
"Ah, by the way—co tomorrow to collect your raid rewards. Hand your spoils to the receptionist; they’ll take care of it."
Ethan tucked the envelope away.
"That’s convenient. Thank you."
"One of the privileges, mind you," Edric said with a sly grin. "Enjoy it while it lasts... hehe."
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Ethan stepped out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him. The quiet corridor stretched ahead, leading him back toward the hum of voices and the faint clink of mugs in the guild hall.
As he erged into the main room, his eyes found Lirael standing near the quest board, her gaze fixed on one of the notices. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, her expression thoughtful.
He walked over, the wooden floor creaking softly under his boots.
"Co on," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby table.
She followed without a word, and they sat across from each other. Ethan leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as he recounted the guildmaster’s proposal in detail—the competition, the reward, and the recomndation.
Lirael’s fingers drumd lightly on the table as she processed his words.
"So... this competition you’re talking about is in Iridale?"
"Yes."
"In three months?"
"Yes."
"And if you win, you beco a Viscount?"
"Right."
Her brow arched faintly.
"And the participants are all under fifty?"
"Exactly."
She paused, then her eyes narrowed with a small, knowing smile.
"So... who are you participating with?"
Ethan gave her a flat look.
"Don’t ask foolish questions. I’m not the type who goes around making friends... and the only person that cos to mind is a certain archer."
His lips curved just slightly.
"Though I’m not sure if she’d even agree."
Lirael’s expression softened into a faint smirk.
"I’m fairly certain she will. Go ahead—ask."
He cleared his throat in exaggerated fashion, leaning back in his chair.
"So, Miss Archer... will you participate with in the competition?"
She tilted her head, feigning thought, a strand of silver hair catching the light from the nearest lantern.
"Hmm... I am busy, you know," she said, her tone laced with mock seriousness. Then her lips curved into a warm smile.
"But I can make ti for this. So... yes."
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "You make it sound like I just booked an appointnt with royalty."
"Maybe you did," she replied, her eyes glinting with quiet amusent.
For a mont, the hum of the guild around them faded, replaced by the comfortable silence of two people who didn’t need to force their words. Then, almost at the sa ti, they both laughed—soft and genuine—before letting the conversation drift to other things.
With everything over they moved towards the reception.
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