Chapter 279 (Patreon)

While waiting for the guildmaster’s arrival, the room slowly settled into an uneasy calm, the kind that came when there was nothing to do but wait—and think. Noa returned to his seat behind the desk, though he no longer touched his tea. Toby lingered nearby, half-relaxed but clearly listening. Boris leaned back in his chair as if he had already made peace with doing nothing for the next hour.

Suri, on the other hand, had found her own amusement.

Thorne had finally woken.

Not fully—but enough to begin exploring.

The small lizard slipped from Boris’s head at some point and began wandering across the room, nose low, tail swaying lazily behind her as she inspected every corner like a tiny, scaled inspector with very specific standards. Every now and then, she would pause, sniff something invisible, and move on as if she had just confirmed a suspicion no one else could understand.

Kana watched her for a moment, then looked back at Noa, her expression turning more serious.

“We’ve been seeing more attacks lately,” she said, her tone steady but thoughtful. “People with bloodshot eyes. Their behavior… it’s not normal.” She paused briefly, choosing her words carefully. “What’s going on with them?”

Suri leaned back slightly, crossing her arms as she added, “Right. Kana took one down recently.” She tilted her head, thinking. “A few days ago… or maybe just yesterday.”

Noa exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with frustration.

“We’re investigating,” he said, his voice losing its earlier lightness. “But so far, all we know is that some underworld group has started distributing an illegal substance.”

He reached into one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a small, crumpled parchment. With a practiced motion, he smoothed it out across the table, revealing its contents.

Fine, grain-like crystals.

Green.

They resembled salt at first glance—but something about them felt wrong. The color wasn’t natural. Too dull in some places, too vibrant in others, as if it couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be.

“Take a good look,” Noa said, tapping the parchment lightly. “If anyone tries to sell you something like this, report it immediately. It will help us in our investigation.”

Kana’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied it.

Suri leaned forward just enough to get a closer look, curious. Boris took a glance, Thorne the lizard suddenly sped up and tried to taste it but Kana was able to block her.

Noa continued, “The ones you’ve encountered—the ones with bloodshot eyes—they’ve been inhaling this.” He paused briefly. “At first, there were no obvious side effects. Aside from the addiction, it works like someone who does smoke.”

He let that word linger.

“Then, after a few weeks…” His expression darkened just slightly. “They change. Aggression spikes. Judgment disappears. It’s like something in their minds snaps all at once.”

Kana’s gaze didn’t leave the substance. For a moment, something flickered behind her eyes. Familiar and uncomfortable.

“You don’t have any leads yet?” she asked, her voice quieter now—but more intent. There was something in the way she spoke, something beneath the surface, as if this wasn’t just curiosity. As if it mattered more than it should.

Noa shook his head. “Nothing at the moment,” he admitted. “Whoever’s behind this knows how to stay hidden.”

Suri reached out, though she didn’t touch the substance—just hovered her hand above it as she examined its texture and color more closely.

“Do you know what it’s made of?” she asked. She was thinking if her mother could make an antidote or cure to counter its side effects.

Noa leaned back slightly, folding his arms. “Not entirely,” he said. “There’s at least one herb in the mixture that we haven’t been able to identify yet.” He glanced down at the parchment. “But it’s definitely not a single-source substance. It’s been processed—refined. Someone put effort into making this.”

That made it worse. Not accidental. It was intentional. Kana straightened slowly, her gaze still lingering on the green like crystals.

Something about it didn’t sit right.

Not just because it was dangerous.

But because—

Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind—

It felt… familiar.

Like a memory she couldn’t quite reach. And that alone made it more dangerous than anything Noa had said out loud.

Their idle chatter didn’t end all at once. It thinned first, like a fading echo, each voice trailing off at a slightly different moment—until the room was left with a quiet. The cause came a heartbeat later, carrying on the soft creak of the door as it opened.

The sound wasn’t loud.

A man stepped through the doorway, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the space itself had to adjust to accommodate him. He was large—broad in the shoulders, solid in build, the kind of presence that didn’t rely on motion to be felt. If Adam was a wall, this man was a fortress that had weathered storms and simply chosen to remain standing. His age showed in the lines of his face and the streaks of gray in his hair, but there was nothing diminished about him. If anything, time had refined him into something sharper.

And then—

He reacted.

It was faint yet fast enough that most would have missed it. His body tensed, his hand shifting toward where a weapon should have been—instinct overriding awareness for just a fraction of a second.

But there was no sword.

The motion stopped midway.

His hand hovered there briefly before lowering, the tension dissolving as quickly as it had appeared. He coughed lightly, straightening his posture as though resetting himself, though the moment had already revealed more than he likely intended.

Kana was still watching him.

He noticed.

“That,” he said, clearing his throat again, this time with a hint of dry amusement, “would be a side effect of age… and my skill.” His eyes lingered on her, sharp but not hostile. “My instincts tend to treat student Kana as an enemy before my mind has the chance to disagree.”

There was something almost casual in the way he said it—but it didn’t make the words any less real.

He changed his stance slightly, then coughed once more, louder this time, drawing the attention of everyone in the room before settling his gaze fully on her.

“You’re here to claim your item?” he asked.

Kana didn’t hesitate. She met his gaze evenly and nodded once. “Yes,” she said.

Then she paused.

“But before that,” she continued, her voice gaining a quiet edge, “I have a proposal.”

Ruvel moved further into the room, until he reached the desk. He rested his hand against it, turning slightly to face her fully—not looming, but not yielding space either.

“A proposal,” he repeated, his tone thoughtful now, curiosity threading through it. “Let’s hear it.”

Kana didn’t sit and didn’t look away.

“I want to spar with you,” she said, her words landing cleanly, without hesitation or decoration.

The room seemed to pause around that single sentence.

“If I lose,” she went on, her voice steady, almost conversational, “I give up the dungeon item you promised me.”

A small pause. Then—

“If I win…” Her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “I take two from your dungeon item collection.”

Silence followed.

Ruvel’s expression didn’t change immediately. He studied her for a moment, as if weighing something unseen—before a smirk slowly formed, faint but unmistakable.

“I don’t know what gives you the confidence to think you can defeat me,” he said, his voice calm, though interest had already begun to replace dismissal. “I assume you haven’t forgotten what happened the last time we crossed paths.”

Suri leaned closer, her voice dropping into a whisper meant only for Kana, though the tension in it was hard to hide. “Are you sure about this?” she murmured. “That old man isn’t normal. He feels like Zia.”

Kana didn’t respond and didn’t even glance at her.

“I’m not that confident,” Kana admitted instead, her tone level, almost disarmingly honest. Then her eyes sharpened.

“But I don’t like losing. I need to try at least.”

Suri held her gaze for a second longer before exhaling softly, leaning back into her seat as if accepting something she had already known from the beginning. There was no point arguing. Not when Kana had already decided.

Ruvel watched her carefully, the smirk on his lips fading into something more thoughtful. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a reason to move properly,” he said, almost to himself. “When would you like this spar to happen?”

“Tonight,” Kana replied immediately.

Boris blinked, clearly caught off guard by how quickly that escalated. Even Thorne, who had been half-asleep moments ago, lifted her head and looked at Kana as if reassessing her entirely.

Ruvel didn’t question it.

Instead, he turned slightly toward Noa. “Prepare the safe ground,” he said, his tone changing into something more official. “Bring them there later.”

Noa frowned faintly, his brows drawing together. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t think this will take much time.”

Ruvel’s gaze remained fixed on Kana.

“One thing I’ve learned,” he said slowly, his voice carrying a quiet weight now, “is that gold badge holders are rarely as simple as they appear.” A faint smile returned. “They always have something prepared—something unexpected.”

Kana clapped her hands together once, the sound light but decisive, her grin widening with unmistakable excitement.

“Then it’s settled.”

Suri sighed, though this time her attention drifted elsewhere. Her eyes moved—slowly, deliberately—toward Ruvel’s right arm.

Or rather—

What remained of it.

“Sir Ruvel,” she said, her voice quieter now, stripped of earlier teasing, “why haven’t you had your arm healed?”

Ruvel followed her gaze.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he lifted his right arm slightly, the bandages shifting as he moved it, the absence impossible to ignore. He regarded it not with regret—but with recognition.

“I keep it like this,” he said at last, his voice calm, grounded in something deeper than explanation. “As a strong reminder.”

His gaze drifted—not unfocused, but distant, as though it had settled on something far beyond the room.

“I let my guard down once,” he continued. “That was enough.”

“There will always be someone stronger,” he added quietly. “Somewhere out there, whether you’ve met them or not.” A brief pause followed, heavier than the words themselves. “So don’t ever assume you’re safe just because you haven’t.”

He exhaled slowly, the moment loosening as he brought himself back.

“At least,” he said, his tone lightening just slightly, “not when you’re out on a quest.”

Kana and Suri exchanged a brief glance. No words passed between them. None were needed. Because the same question had already taken root—

What kind of quest… leaves someone like that behind?

Post note: 

Late post(may happen from time to time for the next few weeks because I can’t go home on time) but I will still post a chapter (6x a week) I’ll post another chap later 🎉Have a great weekend!Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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