A week had passed since Kael's visit to Seraphina's quarters, and the days had been consumed by his duties at the academy. Between cleaning the training grounds after increasingly reckless combat classes, investigating the demonic traces he'd sensed on Cedric, and maintaining his cover as a lazy janitor, Kael had found little time for anything else.
Saturday finally arrived — his designated day off. With no shifts scheduled and no urgent investigations demanding his attention, Kael dressed in simple, practical clothing and headed toward the adventure guild. The sun was already beginning to set as he made his way through the bustling streets of Aethelgard, the market crowds thinning as evening approached.
The guild building was as rowdy as ever, even at this hour. The main hall was packed with adventurers eating, drinking, and comparing stories from recent quests. The air was thick with the scent of ale and roasted meat, mixed with the unmistakable musk of warriors and mages who spent their days facing danger.
Kael navigated through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances his civilian attire drew from some of the adventurers. He made his way to the reception desk, where Helena Blackwood was buried under a mountain of paperwork. Her auburn hair was pinned up in a severe bun, a few loose strands framing her face, and her glasses sat slightly askew as she scribbled furiously.
"Busy as always, I see," Kael said, leaning against the counter.
Helena looked up, her face lighting up with genuine pleasure when she recognized him. "Kael! It's been ages. I was wondering when you'd finally stop by."
She set down her quill and adjusted her glasses, her expression turning teasing. "Though I have to say, you look awfully domestic these days. That janitor uniform really seems to agree with you."
"It pays the bills," Kael replied with a shrug. "And it keeps me out of trouble. Mostly."
Helena laughed, a warm, rich sound. "I'm sure. So what brings you to our humble establishment today? Looking to pick up a quest? Missing the thrill of danger?"
"Actually, I need information," Kael said, his tone more serious. "About the dungeons the Royal Magic Academy is considering for their upcoming field practice. I know they've been discussing options with the guild, and I figured you might have some insight."
Helena raised an eyebrow, her expression curious but also amused. "You're asking for guild intelligence? On a casual basis? I'll need to charge you for that, you know. Information is valuable, especially to former A-rank adventurers who've gone soft."
"I haven't gone soft," Kael countered mildly. "And I can pay. Just name your price."
"Information comes at a premium," Helena said, leaning forward across the counter, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Especially when you're not officially an active adventurer anymore. I might be persuaded to share what I know, but you'll have to make it worth my while."
"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement," Kael began, but before he could continue, a deep voice interrupted from behind him.
"You're bothering Helena with your nonsense again? Shouldn't you be off doing whatever it is civilians do?"
Kael turned to see a tall, muscular man standing nearby. He was dressed in adventurer's gear, well-worn but quality, with a greatsword strapped to his back. His face was handsome in a rough way, but there was an angry edge to his expression as he glared at Kael.
"Just having a conversation with an old friend," Kael replied calmly. "No bother intended."
"Bother is exactly what you are," the man snapped. "Helena has work to do without having to entertain every random civilian who wanders in here. Why don't you run along and leave the real adventurers to their business?"
Helena sighed, shifting her attention to the adventurer. "Gareth, please. Kael and I go back years. He's not just some random civilian, and he's certainly not bothering me. If anything, it's nice to catch up with an old friend."
"Nice for you maybe," Gareth growled, his eyes never leaving Kael. "But some of us actually have important things to discuss with Helena. Quest details, party composition, guild matters — things that don't involve chit-chat with someone who's clearly not part of our world anymore."
Kael studied Gareth, taking in the way the man's muscles were tense, the way his hand rested near his weapon, the barely contained aggression radiating from him. It wasn't just professional annoyance — there was something personal here, something deeper.
"If you have actual business with Helena, I'm happy to wait until you're finished," Kael said mildly. "I'm in no particular hurry."
"I don't want you waiting," Gareth snapped. "I want you gone. Helena's time is valuable, and I don't appreciate it being wasted on has-beens who couldn't hack it as adventurers anymore."
"Gareth, please," Helena tried again, her tone soothing. "There's no need for this. We can discuss your quest details in a few minutes. Just give us a moment to finish our conversation."
"A few minutes?" Gareth repeated, his voice rising. "I've been waiting for an hour to speak with you about an urgent matter. An hour, Helena. And now I find you chatting away with this washed-up nobody like you have all the time in the world."
He glared at Kael, his eyes filled with hostility. "You want to act tough? Come to the training grounds. Let's see if you can still hold your own against someone who actually does this for a living."
Helena's eyes widened in surprise, but Kael merely nodded, accepting the challenge. "If that's what you want."
"Good," Gareth said, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Follow me."
He turned and stormed toward the back of the guild, where the training grounds were located. Kael followed at a more measured pace, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
As they walked, Helena caught up to Kael, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry about that. Gareth can be… intense about certain things. He's a B-rank adventurer, talented but arrogant, and he's had his eye on me for a while."
"Eye on you how?" Kael asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.
"Romantically," Helena confirmed, sighing. "He's been pursuing me for months, trying to win my favor, convinced that we'd be perfect together. I've tried to let him down gently, but he doesn't seem to get the message. And now, seeing me talking to you, smiling with you… I think it pushed him over the edge."
She shook her head. "He sees you as a rival now. Someone who needs to be proven inferior, someone who needs to be driven away so I'll focus my attention on 'real adventurers' like him."
"I understand," Kael said calmly. "It's not the first time I've dealt with someone letting their emotions cloud their judgment."
Just then, a female adventurer hurried over to join them. She was young, probably in her early twenties, with short blonde hair and a slender but athletic build. She wore light leather armor suitable for a rogue or scout class, and her expression was one of genuine apology.
"Excuse me," she said to Kael, her voice lowered. "I wanted to apologize for Gareth's behavior. He's not normally this unreasonable, but he's had a… difficult time lately. Some bad quests, some party conflicts, and now he's taking it out on everyone else."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping even further. "And honestly? He's completely smitten with Helena. Has been for ages. He sees any man who gets her attention as competition, and he doesn't handle competition well. Especially not when it's someone he perceives as beneath him."
She straightened up, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "Just… try not to hurt him too badly, alright? He's actually a decent person beneath all the arrogance and jealousy."
"I'll keep that in mind," Kael said.
They reached the training grounds — a large, open-air space behind the guild building, equipped with practice weapons, wooden dummies, and sparring rings. Several other adventurers were already there, practicing their skills or watching others spar, but they all stopped what they were doing as Gareth stormed onto the main platform.
"Time to see what you're really made of, janitor," Gareth announced, his voice carrying across the grounds. "Pick your weapon."
Kael walked to the weapon rack and selected a wooden short sword — a simple, practical choice that suited his fighting style perfectly. He tested the weight, swinging it a few times to get a feel for the balance, then turned to face Gareth.
Gareth had already claimed a wooden greatsword, testing its edge with practiced movements. He was a large man, and the weapon suited his size, designed for powerful, sweeping strikes that could overwhelm opponents through sheer force.
"Ready when you are," Kael said calmly.
Gareth didn't waste time with pleasantries. He charged forward, raising his greatsword for a crushing overhead strike that would have ended the fight instantly if it connected. Kael waited until the last possible moment, then sidestepped, the wooden blade humming past his ear with enough force to stir his hair.
Before Gareth could recover, Kael stepped in close, his short sword flicking out to strike Gareth's ribs. It wasn't a heavy blow — just enough to demonstrate he'd connected, to show that he'd reacted faster than Gareth had anticipated.
Gareth growled, spinning around and launching another attack, this time a sweeping horizontal slash designed to catch Kael off guard. Again, Kael waited, watching Gareth's body language, the tension in his muscles, the slight shift of his weight that telegraphed the coming strike.
He ducked beneath the blade, moving inside Gareth's guard, and delivered another quick strike to the thigh before dancing back out of range.
Helena was watching from the sidelines, her eyes wide with interest as she saw Kael's movements. "That's the Kael I remember," she murmured to herself. "Fluid, efficient, completely in control."
Her voice carried to Gareth, who snapped his head around to glare at her. "Stop cheering for him! He's a janitor, not a real adventurer!"
The crowd of adventurers who had gathered to watch was growing larger by the minute. Murmurs of speculation rippled through them as they took in Kael's performance — this supposed civilian was holding his own against a B-rank adventurer, moving with a fluidity and precision that suggested far more experience than his appearance indicated.
Gareth's frustration was mounting. He charged again, his attacks coming faster now, more aggressive, each strike designed to overwhelm Kael through sheer force and speed. Kael continued to evade, his movements economical, his eyes focused and intent.
"Is that all you have?" Kael asked mildly, his tone calculated to provoke.
That was the wrong thing to say to a man already teetering on the edge of his self-control. Gareth roared, his face flushed with rage, and unleashed a furious barrage of attacks. His greatsword became a blur of motion, strike after strike raining down on Kael, each one powerful enough to break bones if it connected.
But Kael was ready. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing inward, and activated his 'Boost' magic — a physical enhancement spell that increased his strength, speed, and reflexes beyond human limits. The magic surged through him, sharpening his senses, quickening his reactions, making the world seem to slow down around him.
When he opened his eyes, Gareth's attacks no longer seemed overwhelmingly fast. They were clear, readable, each movement telegraphed by slight shifts in muscle and balance. Kael could see the gaps in Gareth's technique, the moments of vulnerability, the opportunities to counter.
He didn't evade anymore. Instead, he met Gareth's attacks with precise parries, his wooden short sword deflecting the heavier weapon with seemingly impossible strength. Each impact sent shockwaves through both weapons, but Kael held his ground, his arms steady, his expression calm.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as the dynamic shifted. Gareth, realizing his attacks weren't landing, began taking more risks, opening himself up to counterattacks. Kael exploited every opening, his strikes landing with pinpoint accuracy — ribs, thighs, shoulders, each one carefully calculated to disable without causing serious injury.
Kael's fighting style was all about efficiency — reading his opponent's movements, anticipating their attacks, and responding with minimal expenditure of energy. He didn't waste motion on flashy techniques or unnecessary power. Every movement had a purpose, every strike counted.
The duel became a lesson in the difference between brute force and refined skill. Gareth was strong, undeniably, but his anger was making him sloppy. He overcommitted to attacks, left himself open, failed to adapt to Kael's changing tactics. Kael, by contrast, remained cool, collected, his eyes fixed on Gareth with unwavering focus.
More and more adventurers gathered to watch, drawn by the spectacle and the skill on display. Bets began to circulate through the crowd, whispered exchanges of coins and promises as people took sides on who would emerge victorious.
Then a hush fell over the crowd as new arrivals approached. A woman in her late thirties, with silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a severe bun, walked onto the training grounds. She wore practical leather armor that hinted at years of combat experience, and her eyes — sharp, observant, undeniably dangerous — took in the scene with a single glance.
Beside her walked an old man, lean and weathered, with a thin gray ponytail and a wooden sword resting casually on his shoulder. His eyes were the most striking feature — dark, piercing, holding a depth of experience that suggested he'd seen more than most could imagine.
Helena noticed them immediately and started forward, eager to greet the guild master. But the woman raised a hand, gesturing for silence, her focus entirely on the duel unfolding before them.
"Watch," she said, her voice low but carrying clearly. "This is worth seeing."