Roland left the house earlier than usual, and this time he didn't even consider taking shortcuts. He stayed on the main streets, where merchants, apprentices, and guards were already moving about, and the sound of other people's footsteps was calming in a way he'd never appreciated before. Last night still sat at the base of his skull,cold and heavy.
He opened the shop door carefully. The bell rang the way it always did,normal, almost offensively normal compared to what was looping through his head. Edgar looked up from the counter at once, narrowing his eyes. One glance was enough to tell something was off, even with Roland trying to act like everything was fine.
"What is it?" Edgar asked bluntly, setting down what he'd been handling. "You look like you crawled out of a dungeon last night, not walked home."
Roland hesitated for only a heartbeat, then told him everything,leaving with Elin, the shortcut, the three men, the chase, the shouting, and the adventurer who appeared at the last second. He spoke calmly, but he didn't skip details. Edgar would've smelled it if he tried.
The longer Edgar listened, the harder his face set, until he finally snorted in anger and planted both hands on the counter.
"Three grown bastards chasing kids through the streets at night," he growled. "If I'd gotten to them first, they'd never even think of pulling something like that again."
Then he looked at Roland more closely, and his voice softened.
"And you," he added, "you acted like someone responsible. Not storybook heroics,real, ugly responsibility. Doing what you can even when you're scared. Good on you for dragging her by the hand and yelling instead of trying to play tough."
Roland nodded, feeling something inside him loosen.
"And thank the gods an adventurer showed up," Edgar went on. "If I ever meet that guy, I'm buying him a proper round. The world needs people like that more than it needs the rest of this useless crowd."
"I think so too," Roland muttered.
"Alright," Edgar said, straightening. "That's enough emotions for one morning. Back to the ledgers before customers start coming in. I'll handle the rest."
Roland sat down, opened the book, and let himself sink into numbers,though he knew he'd keep glancing at the door and the street beyond the window for a long time. Not out of curiosity anymore, but out of a new, hard-earned caution that had nothing to do with cowardice and everything to do with experience.
***
The caravan was small, nothing like the long merchant columns that stretched along the roads for hours. This wasn't about moving tons of goods or putting on a show of force,it was about getting there reasonably fast without drawing too much attention.
Two sturdy wagons with low sideboards rolled one behind the other, pulled by calm, seasoned horses that knew the trade route better than most people did. A handful of hired guards moved between them, dressed plainly,no crests, no ornaments,carrying their weapons the way people did when they didn't want to use them, but knew they would if they had to. The route followed the main southeast trade road, the same artery that had carried cores, beast corpses, and dungeon goods for years before spilling them out to cities, guild seats, and noble houses. It was maintained, patrolled, and relatively safe,though no one with any sense called it certain.
Rethan sat on the front of the first wagon, back against a crate of supplies. His arm was still wrapped in bandages, and even after several days on the road he felt every jolt. Dungeon wounds didn't heal like normal cuts,especially when magic and long-term strain were involved. Master Klein sat opposite him, as calm as ever, hands folded on a cane he'd brought more out of habit than necessity. Otto sat sideways, eyes alternating between the road and the men with him,because for the Adventurers' Guild Leader, a journey without reports and decisions felt almost unnatural.
They rode in silence for a while, listening to the wheels' rhythm, the creak of axles, and the morning's quiet sounds. Eventually Klein spoke first, his tone measured but unmistakably interested.
"I have to admit," he said, not looking directly at Rethan, "what's circulating officially in the cities sounds… too clean. Three young Halven mages, a Beast-rank boss, one raid. Trade doesn't like stories that tidy."
Rethan let out a quiet snort,more from his aching shoulder than any real amusement.
"Because it wasn't tidy," he said after a moment. "And if someone tells you it was, they either weren't there or they're lying."
Klein nodded like that was exactly what he expected.
"That's why I'm asking," he said. "What did it look like for real?"
Rethan didn't drown them in technicalities. He didn't recount every decision and every mistake. But he spoke clearly enough that the picture was nothing like propaganda,no coordination, formations ignored, the boss adapting, six people dying who went in with him and never came out. The longer he talked, the deeper Otto's frown grew. He'd heard this already in the report, but out here,on the road, without office walls and formal language,it sounded even worse.
"The Halvens did their part," Rethan finished. "But the price was high enough that if that dungeon had been half a rank higher, we wouldn't be sitting in this wagon right now."
Silence fell, broken only by hooves and wheels. Then Otto exhaled and looked at Klein.
"Since we're talking about things that don't happen by accident," he said, "I'll ask straight. Did you get a letter from the central office?"
Klein lifted an eyebrow, then nodded slowly.
"I did," he answered without hesitation. "From the Dungeon Division. An extraordinary meeting,first day of next month."
Otto's smile was crooked and humorless.
"So it's true," he murmured. "Same for me. Main Adventurers' Guild headquarters. Full attendance. No exceptions."
They looked at each other for a moment, wearing the same expression,men who knew the world didn't make moves like this without a reason.
"These aren't routine councils," Klein said calmly. "The Trade Guild doesn't mobilize its whole structure without a serious push. And if they're doing it at the same time as you…"
"…then something's shifting," Otto finished. "Or something has appeared that can't be swept under the rug."
Rethan listened in silence. His experience was different,more direct, more bloody,but his instincts agreed. The past few weeks, the sudden meetings,none of it felt like coincidence.
"The world rarely makes just one move at a time," he said at last. "Usually it's several things that haven't collided yet."
Klein studied him, then let himself smile faintly.
"That's why we're riding," he said. "Each to our own headquarters. Each after an answer that probably won't be complete."
The caravan rolled on at a steady pace. For a while the talk drifted to more mundane things, like all three of them instinctively needed something lighter so they didn't sit trapped in the same heavy circle of thoughts,dungeons, guilds, and problems bigger than any one man.
Rethan cleared his throat and looked toward Klein, slightly sideways, as if deciding whether he even had the right to ask. In the end he did it anyway, without dressing it up.
"Since we're already on the road," he said, "I wanted to ask about Edgar. Leaving the shop to him and the kid… is that safe? The city's the city, but lately things have been… unpredictable."
Klein didn't answer right away. He stared ahead at the road and the slow passing milestones. Then he gave a small nod.
"Edgar will manage," he said evenly. "Maybe not the way I would. But exactly the way he should."
Rethan raised an eyebrow. The tone was different from what he'd heard in the shop,less controlling, more honest.
"He's been doing most of the work for years," Klein continued. "Negotiating, counting, guarding the stock. I just stand there and pretend I'm the one holding everything together. If I don't give him full responsibility now, he'll never actually get it."
He paused, then added more quietly, almost to himself, "And I won't stand behind that counter forever."
Rethan snorted and shook his head.
"If Edgar heard that, he'd be stunned," he said. "He's convinced you don't trust him and you treat him like a kid who's about to break something."
Klein glanced at him,and then, unexpectedly, laughed, short and genuine.
"Because if I stopped keeping him on a short leash," he replied, "a few screws would come loose and he'd start experimenting with deals he isn't ready for yet."
Rethan laughed louder, enough that one of the guards at the front of the wagon looked back.
"That sounds exactly like Edgar," Rethan said. "Always convinced he already knows everything, and at the same time whining that no one will let him prove it."
"That age," Klein said with a faint smile. "And that son."
The laughter faded, but the atmosphere in the caravan loosened all the same. Each of them was riding toward his own obligations with a head full of problems,but for a brief stretch of road, they could talk about something that wasn't the end of the world.
Just people. The ones they'd left behind,and the ones who, despite everything, were still worth trusting.