The Reitzlake Adventurer’s Guild was closed for the night.

It was often said that adventurers never slept, and while Mirabelle knew this was untrue from the number of times she needed to gently cast Mist Spray into the faces of the E-rank adventurers, the guild itself was always awake.

Or at least it usually was.

For the second time in just a few short weeks, Mirabelle now had enough time to stock check the bar.

Maintaining a scrying spell from behind the receptionist’s desk, she carefully took note of which liqueurs needed replenishing, all the while formulating what new cocktails she could create based on popularity.

The widespread destruction at the Royal Institute of Mages and the reveal of Headmaster Alberic Terschel as a lich meant that a review of her research concerning remote casting to manipulate the liquid density of alcoholic components was officially delayed.

However, while the extra time afforded to her didn’t mean she’d be changing her submission, it did allow her room to create more palatable samples.

She was disappointed that nobody ordered her personal favourite–The Princess Surprise.

Even when garnished with a cute umbrella and a cherry, the adventurers were put off by the fact the liquid was so black that it was mistaken for kraken ink.

In truth, it was light and sweet, suitable as both a palate cleanser and an apéritif. But while takers were rare, she had no intention of significantly changing the recipe.

Especially since her cocktail now had its first admirer.

Aronia Maylep, representative of guild headquarters, sipped at her darkened beverage.

She swirled it, nodded, then let the half-empty glass rest at her table.

Still in her travelling attire, she cut a striking figure amidst the semi-circle of guildmasters around the communal cauldron. Whereas many had long given up their adventuring days upon accepting their positions, she was still active in the field.

Hints of shining lamellar could be seen beneath her long cloak, the bands matching her title.

The Silver Aurelia.

A famed S-rank adventurer.

The propagator of the Swanblade Style of swordsmanship, Ariona Maylep had climbed the Oldest Ladder through the most traditional way possible–by swinging her blade swifter than whoever was before her.

Although no longer young, few could dare suggest she was past her prime.

Even with comrades in the middle of a guild hall, her alertness was as keen as the sword by her waist, angled when sitting to remain easily drawn in a single motion.

Respect and trepidation came in the form of silence and sobriety–both things usually absent when a convocation was in process.

Unlike all the ones before, there was no hurling of fists or spilling of wine.

This time, the gathering of the guild’s highest members in the heart of the Kingdom of Tirea’s capital branch was not to discuss the next troupe of adventurers worthy of undertaking the B-rank trials, nor to trade insults over the crumbling rooftops of rivals.

Instead, it was to discuss the actions of Timon Quinsley … as well as the adventurer he’d unilaterally named as the kingdom’s first official S-rank adventurer in a generation.

The man in question was unperturbed.

Leaning against the cane he didn’t need, he peered at the contents of the communal cauldron, threw in something everyone knew not to question, then gave the mixture a little stir with the ladle.

“Miss Maylep, would you like–”

“No.”

“Are you certain? You’ve had quite the journey, albeit one completed in a very short amount of time. Quite impressive, I must say. To reach Reitzlake from Sternwacht on the other side of Granholtz in so few days must mean headquarters saw fit to hire a procession of mages to ferry you here.”

“It was deemed necessary.”

“Truly? I’m surprised they forked out the cost. How will they ever survive without one extra vintage bottle of Marivelle Réserve to help fill the cellar?”

“There are no vintage bottles of Marivelle Réserve in the cellar.”

“Goodness. I do apologise. I meant a vintage bottle of Château de l’Aneth Noire. Slightly worse, but far more expensive. I would never seek to understate the wastefulness of guild headquarters.”

A chorus of gulps sounded.

Few would ever speak with the Silver Aurelia with such familiarity.

However, while Timon Quinsley was lower ranked, he was older, and while he possessed no titles of his own, rumours of his past were as common in guild halls as tales of the famed swordswoman idly tapping at her knee.

“There are issues with financial prudence,” said the Silver Aurelia, without any break in her neutral expression. “That isn’t something for us to deny. But while that’s something deserving of its own convocation, that isn’t the reason why I’m here.”

“Indeed, for such an esteemed individual to be enjoying the coziness of my hall can only mean one thing. News of my secret stew ingredient has finally reached the outer edges of civilisation, eh?”

“I saw you put in a bay leaf. That isn’t a secret ingredient.”

“You saw what I wanted you to see. The real secret is what you missed.”

“I didn’t miss anything.”

“Which is exactly why headquarters has sent you, Miss Maylep. Your True Sight is as famed as your swordsmanship. The bayleaf, however, was a deliberate ploy. The secret ingredient is actually the ladle. It is infused with the scent of chilli oil. Let this be a lesson. See not what your opponents seek to hide, but rather what they place in plain sight. Truth is often served with a garnish.”

The Silver Aurelia stared impassively.

“Mr. Quinsley, I’m here regarding you.”

“Oh? That’s news to me. You should have informed me.”

“Headquarters did. That’s why a convocation is present. It isn’t for your secret ingredient.”

Mr. Quinsley turned to the side.

“... Mirabelle, did we receive any communication from headquarters?”

“Yes, there have been 57 letters sent in envelopes of progressively deeper shades of red over the past fortnight. The contents were summarised in the daily reports.”

“Well, there you have it.” Mr. Quinsley returned to the Silver Aurelia with a smile. “As a guildmaster of a capital branch, I’m exceptionally busy. I’m afraid I don’t quite have the luxury of boredom many of your colleagues do. You understand, I hope.”

“I do not. Boredom is rarely an issue for those at headquarters, particularly when guildmasters decide to promote a newly inducted F-rank adventurer to S-rank over the course of a single season.”

The Silver Aurelia paused.

“This … Juliette.”

Mr. Quinsley clicked his fingers.

“Ah, you’ve heard! That’s excellent. Does that mean you’ve come to offer a more robust certificate? To achieve S-rank in so little time is a feat worthy of something better than anything we have in our drawers. I dare say Miss Juliette deserves better.”

“So I hear. It’s said that she’s a girl no older than any you can find learning to work the fields, yet is capable of bringing down the sky and every dragon within it. Or so the latest rumours go.”

“That’s just an exaggeration. She brought down the sky when dealing with the affair at the Royal Institute of Magic, but as far as I’m aware, that didn’t involve any dragons. There was that incident with the wyvern, though. Not a dragon, yes, and only a single one–but still deeply impressive.”

“Yes.” The Silver Aurelia merely continued to stare. “... Deeply impressive.”

The bubbling of a communal cauldron met her words.

She neither scoffed nor wore a frown, but the doubt was clear in her unblinking eyes.

It was only understandable.

While it was a simple matter to accuse the swordmaster of envy, the truth was that Miss Juliette’s rise was unprecedented and rumours were not.

There were always tales of the next great adventurer, each made grander with every rendition in a bar, and it was no secret that if there was one thing the guildmasters of this modest kingdom needed, it was an adventurer worthy of acclaim.

For his part, Timon Quinsley only chuckled.

“It sounds like my reports have yet to be believed. But I can assure you that every word I personally made the effort to scribble is the truth. You should be pleased. We’ve a new S-rank among us and you’ve a new colleague.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

“Isn’t it? As the senior ranking guildmaster of the kingdom, I have authority to promote an adventurer as I deem appropriate. I’m certain it’s written in a dusty book somewhere.”

“What is written is that S-rank should be approved by more than just a single guildmaster. Especially one who directly presides over her. This is a severe breach of protocol.”

“Another one, eh? Very well, then. What will it be this time? Suspension? A pay cut?”

“Retirement.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll have to decline. My chair’s uncomfortable, but not nearly enough that the thought of some rascal with better qualifications is better.”

“The chair will go to someone more mindful of their responsibilities. That is the only qualification which matters. Anyone in a bar can offer an S-rank title. But it is the judgement of the Adventurer’s Guild which holds the most weight. Your actions jeopardise our standing. Headquarters have always known you to be lax regarding rules. But this has been deemed a step too far.”

The Silver Aurelia didn’t wait for the reply.

She turned from the relaxed guildmaster, sending her gaze towards Mirabelle instead.

“... Miss Mirabelle,” she said, shocking everyone around her. “I’ve been told you’re acquainted with this mysterious adventurer. What can you tell me about her?”

Mirabelle blinked.

She dismissed her scrying spell behind the bar counter, then straightened her posture and smiled.

“Miss Juliette is a true adventurer,” she said calmly. “I was responsible for grading her for the B-rank trials where I saw her defeat a wyvern. I was also present when she defeated Headmaster Alberic Terschel. Whatever rumours concern her, they are untrue only in that they fail to truly capture her virtue. She has a heart wholly concerned with justice, and a sword which knows no limits in seeing it achieved. Her S-rank title is deserved.”

A neat cough suddenly sounded.

“Ahem.” Miranda Howe stepped forward, having enjoyed the sight of Mr. Quinsley being chastened long enough. “I agree with Miss Mirabelle. I was able to witness her swordsmanship first hand. Her skill is no exaggeration. It is, I can say, worthy of being matched against your own, Miss Maylep.”

Trembling slightly with regret, the hand of Mathias Tebrim rose.

“Yeah,” said the guildmaster of Stermondt and frequent accomplice in many of Mr. Quinsley’s schemes. “I was there too. My report … well, I can’t quite remember what I wrote. But it’s true. I saw her turn a stone titan into a pebbly beach.”

He paused.

“I … I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it,” he admitted.

“She’s also rescued cats,” said Miranda, charitably staving off the inevitable silence. “An astonishing number, as many here can attest.”

Suddenly, a murmur of agreement sprang up as even the quietest of guildmasters found their voice.

Heads nodded as pride filled the guild hall.

While few ever witnessed the swordsmanship of Mr. Quinsley’s adventurer, all felt the effects of her work at Trierport and Hartzwiese.

Due to her efforts in twice shattering the record for lost cats rescued, their own quotas had been significantly lessened. Their positions as guildmasters were secured.

The Silver Aurelia listened to the growing chorus of approval.

Her bright eyes, however, still remained on Mirabelle.

She could feel the gaze on her, piercing like the glare of a full moon. It wasn’t magic, but something martial which allowed the swordswoman to study her. A technique more keenly accurate than any spell.

After a while, she returned her attention to Mr. Quinsley.

“I’ve read the reports,” she said, her tone flat and without expression. “The testimonies–”

Pwam.

Her words were interrupted as the doors of the guild flung open.

A moment later, nothing but slack jaws could be seen.

There, striding into the hall with the moonlight at his back, was one of the kingdom’s newest guildmasters.

Wearing a lilac poncho and a confident smile, Cedric Halls entered with all the colourful flair that someone of his well-documented reputation demanded.

However, it wasn’t the arrival of a fellow guildmaster which caused the others to stare in shock.

It was the presence of the man just behind him.

Looking mildly embarrassed at the dramatic nature of their entrance, Thomas Lainsfont, the retired A-rank adventurer and leader of the Golden Hogs, made his appearance before all of his peers.

“The testimonies are missing a few more voices,” said Mr. Halls enthusiastically, his feet coming to a halt as though on the edge of a stage. “... As Thomas will no doubt agree.”

He gestured to the man slowly shuffling the last few steps beside him.

A decade had passed since Thomas Lainsfont last took on a commission. And yet the wide eyes of those staring at him would not have been any different yesterday.

He was the face of adventuring in the Kingdom of Tirea, and while many questions could be asked regarding Miss Juliette’s sudden rise to S-rank, few would have been needed had Thomas Lainsfont been awarded the same honour.

It was well known that only modesty stopped him from joining the ranks of his peers.

A modesty on full display as he sighed at his fellow Golden Hog for all to see.

“... Timon Quinsley has done no wrong,” he stated, after taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “And had Cedric allowed me to enter before this moment, I would have said so before anyone else. Juliette … Miss Juliette is a finer adventurer than I ever was. She is deserving of her accolades, and Timon of his position. To bear witness to her will and not be moved enough to acknowledge her is something no adventurer is capable of. Even those at headquarters. Through the strength of her sword, I was able to see the road once again. The Golden Hogs have reformed, and I intend to take up my former rank.”

Several tables suddenly shifted as guildmasters leaned against them, stunned at the revelation.

The Golden Hogs were the kingdom’s most famed and successful adventuring party in all of their memories. When they had disbanded, a chasm had opened up which had left the guild flailing.

In response to the widening mouths, Thomas Lainsfont nodded to everyone present, but more so towards the Silver Auralia.

He dipped his head in half a bow.

“Aronia,” he said, his voice already hoarse, but courteous. “It’s been a while.”

The Silver Aurelia stared.

Although her impassive expression never faltered, several seconds passed before her lips parted.

“Thomas,” she replied with a nod. “... I heard you became a barkeeper.”

“I became an excellent barkeeper,” he said, clearly mourning his newly discarded life. “You never visited.”

“It was on my to-do list. Have I missed my chance?”

“I imagine the chance will still be there. But I can’t promise the bar will be open every night. Miss Juliette has shown me what it means to wield a sword. This time, I’ll be using it to protect those who I care for most. There is a … community she has helped to foster. I intend to safeguard it for as long as required. That is the assignment the Golden Hogs have accepted.”

The Silver Aurelia tapped away at her knee once again.

“... Is that so? Then aside from wishing to resume your commission, are you here to support Mr. Quinsley’s view of this girl as deserving of her rank?”

“I am not, no. She is no S-rank adventurer.”

All of a sudden, shock turned to equal amounts of bewilderment.

Despite his glowing words, the newly returned face of adventuring in the kingdom appeared unwilling to reaffirm Timon Quinsley’s assessment. That alone was enough to earn him his retirement before the night was done.

The Silver Aurelia, however, merely tilted her head slightly.

“Oh? What do you mean, Thomas?”

“I mean she is deserving of more. I recommend that she be raised to SS-rank.”

If there was shock before, then it was nothing compared to now.

Gasps filled the guild hall as any remaining sense of calm turned to chaos.

SS-rank.

It was the highest acknowledgement that the guild could not even officially offer.

Even Ariona Maylep and a host of others as famed as her were never deemed worthy of such an honour. It was for those who truly transcended every virtue of the guild code and had the strength to match it.

“That is a set of words I’ve never heard before,” she said, her tone unchanged. “I was ordered here to assess Mr. Quinsley’s claim. Do you truly believe S-rank is not enough for this girl?”

“I do.” Thomas Lainsfont gave a short nod. “I watched as she defeated the Witch of Calamity.”

All of a sudden, the sound of sliding tables were joined by sliding chairs as guildmasters realised it was time to begin sitting down for this. Several simply settled for a spot on the floor.

Of all the names and things anyone expected to hear, that of a legend steeped in ruin and flames was not one of them.

“The Witch of Calamity awoke not long ago over Wirtzhaven. Miss Juliette was there to answer her. It is only through her actions that the town … no, the entire kingdom was saved. All the Golden Hogs were present to witness it. She cast the Witch of Calamity down with nothing more than her sword.”

The man paused.

“Yes,” he added. “Nothing more than her sword. She did not use anything else, including furniture.”

Stillness filled the guild hall as his words faded.

For a long moment, even the bubbling cauldron went quiet as all considered the revelation that they’d somehow been spared the flames of calamity without even their knowledge. No one dared to speak, as though even a breath might shatter the fragile truth now hanging in the air.

None was quieter than Thomas Lainsfont, who allowed the worth of his words to be judged by the piercing gaze now settled upon him.

And then–

“I believe I’ve heard all that I need.”

The Silver Aurelia reached for her drink, downing the rest of her Princess Surprise in a single gulp.

She stood up, adjusted her cloak with practised ease, and then made her way past the gathering of stunned guildmasters and the pair of newcomers, pausing only to offer Mirabelle a nod.

“Thank you for the cocktail.”

“You’re welcome.”

A moment later, she was already at the door.

There, Ariona Maylep turned, and for the first time, her face betrayed the hint of a smile.

“... On behalf of guild headquarters, I accept the recommendation of Thomas Lainsfont. As suggested, I shall also have a more robust certificate drawn up. It is nothing less than what an adventurer of this calibre deserves. I hope you’ll know where to find her. I might change my mind.”

As the door to the world outside opened and closed, the brief breeze which swept inside was like a lullaby from the heavens, only deepening their stupor.

The floor became a blur of unwieldy colours as guildmasters forgot how to sit or stand, collapsing on their sides as they took turns surrendering to their shock.

For the first time ever, the Reitzlake Adventurer’s Guild had turned utterly silent, with only the satisfied chuckle of Timon Quinsley there to break it.

He grinned in glorious triumph, then found his receptionist and sent her a nod of trusted confidence, knowing what needed to happen next regarding Miss Juliette.

Mirabelle hummed thoughtfully.

Then, she quietly smiled and raised her fists to her chest.

She knew just where to go.