With all Marshals assembled, the Guild Hall adjusted.
Not dramatically.
Not visibly—at first.
The pillars did not move in any way a casual observer could point to. The ceiling did not rise with a rumble or flash. And yet… space made room.
Ethan felt it before he saw it.
The distances between objects stretched by imperceptible degrees. The angles softened. The vastness of the hall deepened, like lungs expanding just enough to draw a fuller breath.
Rex shifted his massive weight—and did not collide with anything.
Bolt's lightning flared—and did not arc into unintended structures.
Void's presence warped perception—and the hall did not tear.
"…Huh," Ethan muttered, glancing around. "Dynamic map scaling."
He said it with approval.
"That's actually pretty slick. Saves a lot on instance splitting."
Alfred stepped half a pace closer to the throne, posture still immaculate.
"The realm is not scaling, my lord," he said gently. "It is adjusting."
Ethan waved him off.
"Yeah, yeah. Semantic flavor text." He leaned back, draping one arm over the throne's armrest. "You guys really leaned into immersion this time."
The moment he relaxed, the hall did too.
It was subtle—but undeniable.
The pressure that had built up from the combined presence of the Marshals eased. The shadows softened. The ambient hum—so faint it had barely registered—lowered in pitch, like a deep sigh.
Ethan blinked.
Then, curious, he straightened.
Immediately, the air tightened.
Not aggressively. Attentively.
Like something sitting up because it sensed movement.
"…Okay," he murmured. "That's interesting."
Shade noticed.
Of course he did.
The Dark Elf leaned against a pillar that had conveniently repositioned itself to support him, arms crossed, grin crooked.
"Careful, boss," Shade said lightly. "The realm gets nervous when you're annoyed."
Ethan laughed. "Oh come on. Don't tell me you guys got emotional AI patches too."
Frost answered instead.
"Yes," the Frost Marshal said flatly. "The realm reacts to your emotional state."
Ethan turned slowly.
"…Excuse me?"
Frost's expression did not change. Ice crystallized faintly along his shoulders, then receded as Ethan's attention shifted.
"It does not respond to commands alone," Frost continued. "It responds to you."
Ethan stared at him for a long second.
Then he laughed again—louder, dismissive.
"Okay, now that's definitely flavor text."
Bolt cracked his knuckles, lightning snapping eagerly around his arms.
"Feels real enough to me," he said, grin sharp. "Wanna test it?"
Alfred's eyes flicked to Bolt—just briefly.
The Storm Marshal subsided, though the excitement didn't leave his posture.
Ethan's smile lingered… but something behind it sharpened.
"…Alright," he said. "Let's test it."
He didn't shout.
Didn't threaten.
Didn't even think particularly hard.
He simply let the mild irritation he'd been brushing aside surface.
Just a little.
Annoyance at missing UI.
At vague answers.
At not knowing what, exactly, was happening.
The Guild Hall darkened.
Not instantly.
Like clouds sliding over a sun that hadn't existed a moment before.
The light dimmed by degrees, shadows deepening, edges sharpening. The air thickened—not with pressure, but with density. Magic saturated the space, heavy and humid, clinging to skin like the promise of a storm.
Rex growled low in his throat—not threatening, but alert.
Bolt's grin widened, electricity dancing more violently around him.
Void tilted his head, fascinated.
Alfred moved.
One quiet step closer to the throne.
Just in case.
Ethan inhaled sharply.
"…Whoa."
He hadn't meant to push that hard.
The realm wasn't obeying a command.
It was mirroring him.
"Alright," he said quickly, forcing the irritation down. "Easy."
He exhaled.
Let the annoyance dissolve.
Focused on calm.
On familiarity.
On control.
The effect was immediate.
The darkness lifted as if swept away by a sudden wind. The air lightened. The oppressive density evaporated, leaving behind a sense of vast, quiet relief.
The Guild Hall exhaled.
Actually—no.
That wasn't metaphorical.
Ethan felt it.
A deep, encompassing release that rippled outward through the realm, stabilizing everything it touched.
He swallowed.
"…Okay," he said softly. "That's… new."
Something brushed against his awareness.
Not force.
Not power.
Connection.
It flowed inward, not out.
A feedback loop.
For a brief, dizzying moment, Ethan felt the Black Guild Realm.
Not as a map.
Not as a collection of systems.
As presence.
He sensed districts far beyond the hall—structures resting in patient order, armies standing at readiness, monsters moving through routines he had designed but never experienced like this.
They weren't voices.
They weren't thoughts.
They were… awarenesses.
Distant.
Steady.
Waiting.
Ethan's fingers curled against the armrest.
"…Did you feel that?" he asked.
"Yes," Alfred replied immediately.
The butler met his gaze, expression calm—but his eyes were intent now.
"The realm stabilized around your existence long ago, my lord."
Ethan frowned. "Stabilized how?"
"It learned," Alfred said carefully. "To breathe with you."
Silence followed.
Not heavy.
But thoughtful.
Ethan leaned back again, slower this time.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "The realm doesn't just listen to commands. It tracks… mood."
"Yes."
"And if I get pissed?"
"The realm prepares."
Ethan snorted. "That's kind of overkill."
"Perhaps," Alfred agreed. "But effective."
Ethan's gaze drifted upward, following the faint lines of the ceiling as if seeing them for the first time.
"…What happens if I leave again?"
The question slipped out before he fully considered it.
The Guild Hall did not react.
But Alfred did.
He hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
It was the first time Ethan had ever seen him do that.
"The realm would endure," Alfred said slowly. "But not unchanged."
Ethan turned sharply. "Meaning?"
Alfred chose his words with care.
"Stability would degrade. Structures would persist, but responsiveness would lessen. Growth would slow. Certain… harmonies would fade."
"…Harmonies," Ethan repeated.
"Yes."
Ethan stared at the floor, jaw tightening briefly.
Then he waved a hand, dismissive.
"Yeah, yeah. Long-term AFK penalties. Makes sense."
He leaned back fully into the throne, posture relaxed once more.
The realm relaxed with him.
Light softened.
Space settled.
Everything aligned.
"Relax," Ethan said with a grin. "I'm not going anywhere."