I watched as the tension drained from his shoulders. He let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really need to stop phrasing things like that. You’re going to give soone a heart attack one of these days."
"I’d rather give soone a heart attack than let you treat again," I muttered.
He shot an offended look. "Excuse you? I saved your life."
That only made my eye twitch.
Saved my life—sure. At what cost?
My mind imdiately replayed that cursed mory.
That mission. Four fractured ribs. A broken arm. A shattered leg.
I should have dragged myself back to my room and accepted death with dignity.
Instead, Dagur, Akali, and William had exchanged those smiles. The kind that told sothing horrible was about to happen.
And then they handed over to Seth.
"Relax," he had said cheerfully, snapping on gloves like a butcher preparing fresh at. "This might hurt a bit."
’A bit.’
What followed could only be described as sanctioned torture.
Bones being reset in ways bones were never ant to bend.Skin being cut open and stitched back together repeatedly.Regeneration spells applied, canceled, reapplied—over and over—because "the alignnt isn’t perfect yet."
At so point I stopped screaming. Not because it stopped hurting, but because my voice gave out.
And the worst part?
It worked.
By the end of it, I was perfectly healed. No scars. No lingering damage.
Just trauma.
Ever since that day, the unspoken rule of the Nightjars was clear:
Avoid injuries at all costs. Even papercuts.
I snapped back to the present and glared at Seth. "I’m serious. I’m never letting you near with dical tools again."
He scoffed. "You’re exaggerating."
"I am not."
"Anyway," he said, already losing interest as he turned toward the kitchen, "that mysterious Portal, huh? The one that popped up in the Seraphis Ocean?"
"Yes."
He waved a hand lazily. "Good luck with that. Try not to die."
"Wow. Such heartfelt support."
"I’m a doctor, not a babysitter," he replied, disappearing into the kitchen. "If you co back half-dead again, though, you know where to find ."
I shuddered.
"Yeah," I muttered to myself. "That’s exactly what I’m afraid of."
I thought I could finally have peace when another voice interrupted again.
"What’s this Seth was saying about a scroll?"
It was Thorne.
I turned my head toward him, already bracing myself for the incoming interrogation. He had his arms crossed, one brow raised, that familiar look on his face—the one that said I heard sothing interesting and I won’t let it go.
"I was just about to—"
The door suddenly swung open.
Wet footsteps echoed against the floor.
William walked in, drenched from head to toe, blood streaking down his arm and dripping onto the ground. His hair was plastered to his face, clothes torn in several places, and his breathing was uneven, like he’d just crawled out of hell itself.
The room went silent.
"What..." I slowly stood up. "What happened?"
He burst out laughing.
Not a relieved laugh nor a nervous laugh.
A sharp, cracked, borderline hysterical laugh.
"What happened?" he echoed. "WHAT HAPPENED?" He spread his arms wide, spinning once in place. "LOOK AT ! I almost lost my head!"
A massive bite mark marred his side—deep, jagged, and unmistakably from sothing with too many teeth. The skin around it was torn and bruised, the edges still faintly glowing where regeneration magic had barely sealed it shut.
Thorne imdiately grabbed a pillow and hurled it at William’s face.
"Relax," Thorne said flatly, "and just explain why you ended up like that."
William caught the pillow with one hand and scoffed. "That’s your reaction? No concern? No sympathy?"
"You’re breathing," Thorne replied. "That’s enough sympathy."
William clicked his tongue and staggered toward the mini-bar. "Unbelievable." He leaned against the counter. "Rum—no, whiskey. Strong. Don’t dilute it."
The golem imdiately complied.
He downed the glass in one gulp, exhaled sharply, then turned and headed toward the couch—my couch.
I didn’t even hesitate.
I kicked him square in the thigh.
"Get away," I snapped. "Do you want to ruin the couch?"
He yelped and stumbled sideways, barely catching himself on the armrest. "What the hell?! I’m injured!"
"And you’re bleeding," I shot back. "Sit on the floor."
"This is discrimination."
"This is furniture protection."
William groaned but slumped down onto the floor anyway, back against the table. "You’re all heartless."
"The story?" I repeated, arching a brow at him. "You were the one who sounded like you had a dramatic monologue prepared."
William clicked his tongue and waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. Listen carefully, because I’m only saying this once."
He leaned back against the table, one knee bent, still very much bleeding despite pretending otherwise.
"So mid-tier guild contacted ," he began. "Nothing special. They wanted soone discreet. Said a mysterious portal suddenly appeared in the Seraphis Ocean and they didn’t want the GHA sniffing around yet."
Thorne snorted softly. "Discreet and Seraphis Ocean don’t belong in the sa sentence."
"Exactly," William said, pointing at him. "Red flag number one. But the pay was good, so I took it."
I crossed my arms, already guessing where this was going.
"So I get there," William continued, "and at first everything’s normal. Too normal. Sea monsters were calm—almost docile. You know how wrong that feels, right?"
I nodded. Calm monsters were never a good sign.
"Then the mont I get close to the portal?" He slamd his palm lightly against the floor for emphasis. "All hell breaks loose. Monsters go berserk like soone flipped a switch. I’m talking coordinated attacks. Packs. Variants I’ve never seen before."
"And one of them decided my head looked tasty," he added bitterly.
He lifted his shirt again slightly, tapping near the bite mark. "That bastard lunged out of nowhere. If my reaction was half a second slower, you’d be holding a morial service right now."
Thorne whistled. "Tragic. Truly."
"Shut up," William snapped. "I killed it. Barely. And then I tried to enter the portal."
I frowned. "And?"
"And nothing," William said sharply. "Every single ti I got close, the portal rejected . No resistance. No explosion. Just—woosh—teleported sowhere random."
"Random?" I echoed.
"Random," he confird. "One ti I ended up three kiloters above sea level. Another ti inside a coral graveyard. Once—" he grimaced, "—inside a nesting ground."
"That explains the bite," Thorne muttered.
"So I reported back to the guild," William went on, irritation creeping into his voice again. "I told them the portal is inaccessible, guarded by aggressive sea monsters, and clearly requires special conditions."
"And they paid you?" I asked flatly.
He laughed. A humorless, sharp sound. "Of course not. They said I failed the mission and refused my commission so I called Magellan to steal all their treasures."
I stared at him.
"Just say you failed the mission," I said calmly.
William shot to his feet. "I did NOT fail the mission! Damn it!" He pointed at the air as if the portal itself were floating there. "That damned thing won’t let anyone in! It just throws you away like trash!"
"Which," I said dryly, "ans you failed to enter."
He opened his mouth to argue—
"I sll blood! Is anyone injured?!"
The sudden voice from the kitchen made William freeze mid-rant.
Seth’s head slowly peeked out from behind the doorway, eyes sharp, nose twitching like a predator that had just caught a scent.
William’s face drained of color.
In a flash, he raised both hands and frantically gestured at us to stay quiet, eyes wide with pure terror.
I blinked.
Then I looked at Thorne.
Thorne looked back at .
The sa wicked smile spread across both our faces.
"Seth!" I called out brightly. "It seems William needs your—mmph!"
William lunged forward and clamped a hand over my mouth, his grip desperate.
"Don’t you dare," he hissed. "Don’t. You. Dare."
Thorne didn’t even try to hide his grin.
"William’s injured!" he said loudly and clearly.
In that instant, Seth was suddenly right beside us.
I didn’t even see him move.
One mont he was standing near the kitchen doorway, the next he was looming over William, eyes gleaming with a distinctly unhealthy kind of excitent.
"Let’s go to the infirmary," Seth said pleasantly, tilting his head. "And patch you up, shall we?"
William’s survival instincts scread. "Over my dead body!" he shouted as he spun on his heel and bolted.
He took exactly one step.
A sharp flick of Seth’s wrist sent several thin needles flying through the air. They embedded themselves neatly into William’s neck, shoulder, and lower back.
William froze mid-stride.
His legs locked. His arms stiffened. His face contorted in pure, helpless rage.
"Mmmph—!!" He tried to scream but nothing ca out.
"Ah, paralysis dosage was perfect," Seth murmured with satisfaction. "Still conscious, still aware. Excellent."
That was terrifying.
Seth turned calmly toward the golems. "Little ones, please carry him to the infirmary."
Four mini golems imdiately lumbered forward. Two gently lifting William under the arms, the other grabbed his legs.
William’s eyes widened even further as he was hoisted into the air like a sack of potatoes. "Mmmph! MMPH!!"
He glared at us desperately, betrayal written all over his face.
I lifted my hand and waved. "Good luck," I said cheerfully.
Thorne waved too. "Try not to scream too loud."
William was carried away, his muffled, silent struggle disappearing down the corridor.
The infirmary door closed.
A mont of silence followed.
Then—
"...Anyway," I said, clapping my hands together lightly. "Where was I? Oh right. The scrolls."
"These scrolls are directly connected to the Portal," I continued. "Specifically, the Gateway of Vision. It’s not sothing you can brute-force your way into. The Portal rejects anyone who doesn’t et its conditions."
"I heard from Boss snippets of it but even if you have a good source of information, it’s only been—nevermind. I won’t pry into your personal life," he said, cutting himself off midway.
"Thanks," I replied honestly.
"It’s my job not to nag," Thorne added with a shrug.
"I see... so, did we hear anything from Abyss?" I asked, leaning back against the couch, fingers idly tapping the armrest.
Ever since the string of terror incidents spread across Aeonia, Abyss had been unusually quiet. Many organizations operating in that underworld had grown fearful of Nightjars.
So I made an open declaration through interdiaries and whispers: ’Any faction willing to offer glowing scrolls would be temporarily removed from Nightjars’ hit list.’
"Nothing so far..." Thorne began, shaking his head.
But then—
Buzz.
The sharp vibration of his phone cut through the room.
He frowned slightly, pulling it out and scanning the ssage. His brows rose just a fraction—enough for to notice. "...Well, that didn’t take long," he muttered.
He flicked his wrist, projecting a holographic image into the air between us.
"A golden scroll," I said softly.
Just what I was looking for.
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