They moved through the outskirts of Lunareth for a while after that.
Not rushed.
Not slow either.
Step by step, Ai pointed things out. Names. Shapes. Differences that weren't obvious until she said them out loud.
Leaves that looked identical at a glance—until you noticed the veins.
Roots that smelled different once disturbed.
Petals that changed color depending on the light.
Viole didn't interrupt.
Didn't ask unnecessary questions.
He watched.
Listened.
Stored everything.
I followed along the same way.
At some point, it stopped feeling like new information.
Patterns started forming instead.
This one heals.
This one stabilizes.
This one enhances.
This one—avoid touching raw.
Simple.
Categorized.
Time passed without announcing it.
The sun shifted.
Shadows stretched.
And before long—
It was enough.
"Let's head back," Ai said.
Viole nodded.
The walk back was quieter.
Not empty.
Just… settled.
No more explanations.
No need.
No farewells of any sort. Just gratitude and done.
By the time he reached his place, the light had dimmed.
Routine took over.
Door.
Lock.
Set the basket down.
Preparation came next.
Dinner—simple.
Nothing like earlier. Just enough.
Eat.
Clean.
Reset.
No wasted motion.
Night came the same way it always did.
Gradual.
Unremarkable.
He lay down without hesitation.
And just like before—
I felt it.
That pull.
Not forceful.
Not avoidable either.
My thoughts slowed.
Then—
Nothing.
Morning came the same way it always did.
Quiet.
Gradual.
A slow inhale.
A slight shift.
And I was back.
Viole's eyes opened—not abruptly, not sluggish either. Just… precise. Awake the moment they did.
The first thought surfaced immediately.
What day is it.
Then—
"Terris."
The word left his mouth under his breath.
I paused.
Terris?
Not a number. Not a date.
A name.
Day, then.
I followed the thought as it formed, pulling from what he already knew.
Or rather—what we knew now.
The structure surfaced naturally.
A cycle. Seven days.
Not numbered. Named.
Solisday. Lunaris. Ignisveil. Terris…
Right.
Terris.
Midpoint.
Stability. Routine.
Which means—
I traced it back.
We met Ai on Solisday.
Day one.
Lunaris after that.
Then Ignisveil.
And now—
Terris.
Three days.
I paused.
…Wait.
Ai goes to the city weekly.
So that should be the start of the week—
Monday.
No.
I corrected myself almost immediately.
That's wrong.
Solisday is the beginning here.
Not Lunaris.
So Sunday.
Then Monday.
Then Tuesday.
Then today—
Wednesday.
…Terris.
The alignment settled into place cleanly after that.
So that's how it works.
Different names.
Same structure.
Seven-day cycle.
Consistent. Predictable.
Useful.
I leaned into the thought a bit more, organizing it.
Solisday—Sunday.
Lunaris—Monday.
Ignisveil—Tuesday.
Terris—Wednesday.
The rest would follow.
No need to force it now.
What mattered was—
I can track it.
Properly.
Days won't blur together anymore.
Viole moved. Sitting up without hesitation.
And just like that—
The thinking stopped.
For him, at least.
For me—
I held onto it a little longer.
Three days.
That's all it's been.
…Feels longer.
Viole was about to stand—
Then another detail surfaced.
Month.
Not just the day.
Verdantis.
The third month.
I caught it as it settled into place.
March.
Same position in the cycle.
Different name.
Growth. Early bloom.
…Fitting.
I let that sit for a moment—then something else cut through it.
The soreness.
Still there.
But not like yesterday.
Dulled. Manageable.
His body responded as he shifted his weight, testing it without thinking.
Better.
Viole stood.
Then stretched. Slow. Controlled. Muscles pulling, adjusting, waking up properly this time.
No hesitation after that.
If it doesn't interfere—
Train.
Simple rule.
He stepped outside.
The morning air was cooler. Cleaner.
And then—
The swings began.
Not flashy.
Not exaggerated.
Just repetition.
Clean arcs.
Measured steps.
Controlled breathing.
Again.
And again.
Each swing consistent with the last.
Not faster.
Not stronger.
Sharper.
Refinement over effort.
I watched closely.
There was structure here.
Not random movement.
Not practice for the sake of movement.
Every motion had a purpose—even if it looked simple from the outside.
Time passed quietly.
The rhythm didn't break until—
It was enough.
Back inside.
Routine resumed.
Leftover rice.
Miso soup.
Reheated.
Nothing wasted.
Eat.
Clean.
Prepare.
Armor came next.
Layer by layer.
Familiar.
Efficient.
Weapon checked.
Position secured.
Then—
He stepped out.
The Guild.
Same as always.
Noise. Movement. Voices stacking over each other.
But—
Something was off.
A shift in the air.
Not visible at first glance.
A little louder.
A little more clustered.
Commotion.
Viole didn't stop.
Didn't look.
Not his concern.
He moved straight to the quest board.
Eyes scanning.
Filtering.
Herb gathering.
Two stood out.
Simple enough.
Close enough.
Appropriate.
Testing ground.
He took both parchments and turned.
Liora was already there at the counter.
He handed them over.
She took them—then paused.
Her expression shifted almost immediately.
"Viole."
Not the usual tone.
"Where were you yesterday?"
There it is.
"I was waiting for you." She leaned forward slightly, brows pulling together. "You didn't come by at all."
He didn't answer right away.
Didn't need to.
Because she continued on her own.
"You didn't hear, did you?"
A beat.
Then—
"That monster you and your party dealt with."
I focused immediately.
Liora lowered her voice slightly—not enough to hide it, but enough to make it clear this wasn't casual talk.
"As soon as you all got back, the Guild and the Scholar Guild sent people out to check the site."
Her grip on the parchment tightened just a little.
"When they got there…"
A pause.
"…it was still moving."
That got my attention.
"Even after being cut apart. It was trying to pull itself back together."
…Right.
Undead.
That tracks.
"They finished it off properly this time by sealing the head and limbs in ice," she continued. "And the scholars examined it."
Another slight shift in her tone.
"They confirmed it."
A breath.
"Undead. A dire wolf."
There it is.
"And not normal," she added quickly. "A mutation."
I felt Viole's focus sharpen—not outwardly, but internally.
Liora continued.
"Undead monsters are supposed to appear in dungeons. High mana density environments."
Her eyes met his.
"Not out there."
That… wasn't good.
"The scholars want the body," she said. "They said it's valuable for research."
Of course they do.
"They're offering to buy it."
A small pause—just enough to let it land.
"Starting at 25 gold."
…That—
Even I paused at that.
Viole didn't react.
Not outwardly.
But I felt the calculation immediately.
Twenty-five gold.
Months.
That's months of food. Stability. Breathing room.
Then—
Split.
Five ways.
Still a lot.
Still significant.
But not the same.
Liora watched him, waiting for a reaction that didn't come.
And as usual—
He just stood there. Quiet. Processing.
Liora was about to continue—
Viole spoke first.
"I was in Lunareth Village."
It cut cleanly into the conversation. Not abrupt. Just… precise timing.
Her brows lifted slightly.
"Studying herbs," he added.
He placed the parchments down on the counter.
"I'm taking gathering commissions today."
A small pause.
"To test what I learned."
That was it.
No extra detail.
No explanation beyond what was necessary.
Liora blinked once—then her expression softened slightly.
"I see…"
Something in her posture relaxed.
So that's what it was.
She straightened again almost immediately.
"Anyway—"
There it is.
"Continuing."
She adjusted the parchments in her hands and went on.
"That undead dire wolf wasn't isolated to just here."
My attention sharpened again.
"It's been sighted before. Other guild branches reported it."
A small pause.
"Ironvale. Northwest of Sundridge. And Oakfield, to the west."
So it moved.
Or… it survived longer than it should have.
Her tone dipped slightly.
"They didn't take it seriously."
Of course.
"Only a handful of adventurers reported seeing it. And an undead appearing outside a dungeon…" She shook her head faintly. "…it sounded unlikely."
Unlikely.
So they ignored it.
"They didn't share the information either," she continued. "Not with nearby branches."
That part—
That part mattered.
I felt the implication settle in before she even said it.
"So it slipped through," she said.
And ended up here.
Liora exhaled quietly, then shifted tone again.
"Because of that—"
Here it comes.
"The Adventurer's Guild is issuing compensation."
Viole didn't move.
Didn't react.
Just listened.
"For you and your party."
A brief pause.
"And—"
She looked directly at him now.
"You're being promoted."
There it is.
"Platinum Rank."
I felt it register immediately.
Silver → Platinum.
That's not a small step.
Liora continued before anything could settle.
"There are three reasons."
She raised a finger slightly.
"First—the monster was designated a D-Rank threat."
A small nod.
"That meets the requirement for advancement."
Second.
"You and your party saved lives."
A pause.
"Eleven people."
…That's not small.
"Which is a major contribution."
She let that sit for a moment before continuing.
"The others in your party will receive rank points," she added. "But they'll still need to raise their class proficiency before they can advance."
Makes sense.
System consistency.
No shortcuts.
Viole spoke then.
"What's the third?"
Straight to it.
Liora didn't hesitate.
"The Guild's accountability."
A slight edge in her tone this time.
"That monster made it here because other branches dismissed the reports."
There it is.
"They didn't act. Didn't share intel. And because of that—"
She tapped the counter lightly.
"It was left alone long enough to mutate."
A small pause.
"If it had continued unchecked…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Didn't need to.
Villages.
Towns.
The city.
Escalation was obvious.
"So the Guild is compensating for that failure," she concluded.
Clean. Direct.
Then she summarized.
"So Scholar Guild is offering 25 gold for the carcass."
A beat.
"The Adventurer's Guild is matching it."
Another 25.
Fifty total.
Split five ways—
Ten each.
…That's still a lot.
Months.
Not survival.
Stability.
Liora watched him again.
Waiting.
And just like before—
Viole didn't show much.
But I could feel it.
That shift.
Not excitement.
Not disbelief.
This time—
There was a reaction.
Not obvious.
Not dramatic.
But it was there.
Fifty gold.
Split five ways.
Ten.
I felt the calculation settle deeper this time. Not just numbers—
Possibility.
The Inventoria Tome.
There it is again.
Third time I've heard it.
The idea surfaced along with it—what little he knew, what little I could piece together.
A skill.
Acquired, not innate.
Portable space.
Storage that doesn't exist in the physical sense—yet holds weight, volume, items.
A backpack.
But not really.
Something better.
And it scales.
With mana.
…Yeah.
That's straight out of a game.
Inventory system.
Except real.
Limited by your own capacity instead of some fixed slot count.
No wonder it's expensive.
No wonder higher-ranked adventurers go for it.
Ten gold doesn't get it yet—
But it's no longer out of reach.
Not a distant idea anymore.
Something tangible.
Something possible.
Liora's voice cut in again.
"Oh—and before you say anything," she added casually, "you can't refuse the promotion."
Viole's expression didn't change—
But his eyebrow twitched.
Just slightly.
"There's no point keeping you in Silver," she continued. "With your current proficiency, you're already overqualified for most of the commissions there."
She gestured vaguely toward the board behind him.
"You're basically taking work meant for low-rankers and newbies."
A small pause.
"So this is also the Guild clearing space."
There it is.
Blunt.
Viole looked at her.
"The last part sounds like the real reason."
Flat. Direct.
Liora blinked—then laughed.
Light. Unbothered.
But she didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it either.
Just let it sit there.
"Anyway," she continued, waving it off slightly, "normally you'd receive the promotion immediately."
A small shift in tone.
"But the device for proficiency assessment is out right now."
Of course it is.
"Sent to the Scholar Guild for maintenance."
She tapped the counter lightly.
"So you'll have to wait about two days."
Two days.
I traced it immediately.
Terris.
Then Zephyra.
Then—
Aqualis.
Friday.
That's when it lands.
Clean.
Liora tilted her head slightly.
"When was the last time you had your class proficiency checked?"
Viole didn't answer right away.
Not because he didn't know.
Because he did.
"…About a year ago."
Ah.
There it is.
Liora's eyebrow twitched.
"A year?" she repeated.
Her tone flattened slightly.
"Most adventurers check quarterly. At the very least, mid-year."
A small pause.
"You just… didn't?"
He didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
Answer was obvious.
She exhaled through her nose.
"You do realize class proficiency doesn't just go up endlessly, right?"
Her tone shifted—more instructive now.
"Training and combat will take you far. But eventually, you hit a ceiling."
A small tap of her finger against the counter.
"When that happens, you need something else. Mentorship. New experience. Or even a job change."
She looked at him directly.
"If you've been sitting on D-rank proficiency for a year…"
A slight tilt of her head.
"You've either plateaued—"
A beat.
"—or you've already moved up and just never confirmed it."
…That tracks.
She crossed her arms lightly.
"Honestly, you might already be at C."
Another pause.
"And you wouldn't even know."
Yeah.
That sounds about right for him.
Liora shook her head faintly.
"That's how uninterested you are in your own career."
No malice. Just observation.
"You're fine as long as you can feed yourself."
Accurate.
Then—
She leaned forward slightly.
"Do you even have a plan?"
The question landed differently than the others.
Not casual.
Not procedural.
Something else.
And for the first time in a while—
I paid closer attention to what his answer might be.
Viole didn't answer immediately.
A breath in.
Then—
"…Hmm."
A quiet exhale followed.
Thinking.
At least—
That's what it sounded like.
I waited.
Liora did too.
A second passed.
Then another.
…Nothing.
No thought forming. No answer taking shape.
Just silence.
I tilted my focus inward.
…He's not even trying to answer, is he?
Or—
No.
That's not it.
There's just… nothing there.
No plan.
No long-term goal waiting to be put into words.
Just—
Keep going.
Work. Earn. Eat. Repeat.
…Yeah.
I can't even call that strange.
Because if I think about it—
I'm not much different.
Future plans?
Nothing concrete.
Nothing I can point to and say that's where I'm heading.
Just moving forward because that's what comes next.
…So I don't really get to judge him for that.
Liora exhaled.
A deeper sigh this time.
But she didn't press.
Didn't repeat the question.
Just let it go.
"Then while you're waiting," she said, shifting topics smoothly, "you should start studying dungeons."
Practical.
"Monsters too."
She gestured vaguely toward the back.
"The library has materials published by the Scholar Guild. They're reliable."
Makes sense.
Preparation.
Necessary, considering what's coming next.
"And…"
She paused briefly, then added—
"You might want to think about changing jobs."
That caught my attention.
"Not your class," she clarified immediately. "That's fixed."
A small tap on the counter.
"But jobs can change."
Right.
I've heard that before.
"Given where you are now, it's something you should consider."
Her gaze stayed on him.
"And mentorship."
A beat.
"You've been stagnant longer than you should have."
Direct. No padding.
"That's on you," she added.
No hesitation in saying it.
Fair.
Then—
"And maybe start thinking about a sub-class."
Another layer.
"Once you're Platinum, dungeon diving becomes mandatory."
Her tone lowered slightly.
"And that's not the same as what you've been doing."
Not even close.
Commissions are controlled.
Predictable.
Dungeons—
A different environment entirely.
Viole nodded once.
"I'll consider it."
Simple.
No resistance.
No commitment either.
Just acknowledgment.
Liora watched him for a moment longer, then went back to processing the parchments.
Paper shifted.
Ink marked.
Routine.
When she finished, she handed them back.
"Registered," she said.
Viole took them without comment and turned to leave.
"One more thing," Liora added.
He stopped.
Not fully turning back—just enough to show he was listening.
"You should consider joining a party."
There it is.
Her tone was different again.
Less casual.
More grounded.
"Dungeons aren't something you can solo."
A small pause.
"Even if you think you can."
I held onto that one.
Because something tells me—
That's going to matter soon.
...
The noise of the Guild faded behind him as soon as he stepped outside.
Not gone.
Just… distant.
Viole didn't stop walking.
But his hand moved.
The parchments.
He glanced at them.
That's when I noticed the details too.
Locations.
Clear. Direct.
North.
Northwest of Sunridge.
Targets—
Frostleaf.
Clearmint.
…Right.
The same ones from yesterday.
I caught the intent immediately.
Of course he picked these.
Familiar.
Recognizable.
Low risk.
A controlled test.
Makes sense.
My thoughts were about to settle—
Then something shifted.
From him.
A surge.
Not emotion.
Not exactly.
Just—
More.
A buildup that finally spilled over.
He exhaled.
A deep sigh.
Not frustration. Not relief.
Just weight leaving his chest without solving anything.
And then—
The thoughts came.
Complicated.
That was the word that formed first.
Things had gotten complicated.
He kept walking, steady pace, eyes forward—but his mind wasn't on the road anymore.
Promotion.
Unwanted. Unavoidable.
He didn't need it. Didn't ask for it.
He was fine.
Working. Earning. Saving.
Slowly, steadily building toward one thing—
The Inventoria Tome.
That was enough.
A clear goal.
Get the skill.
Store supplies.
Move more efficiently.
Simple.
But now—
Everything shifted.
Promotion meant change.
Forced change.
Job.
He didn't care before.
If his proficiency had plateaued, so what?
It didn't stop him from working.
Didn't stop him from surviving.
But now—
Dungeon diving.
That changes things.
Completely.
Different environment.
Different risks.
Unknown variables.
And his current skill set—
One style.
One sword.
Everything his father taught him.
Refined. Reliable.
But limited.
Against what's coming—
Not enough.
He knew that.
Which meant—
Adapt.
Or fall behind.
Job change.
Sub-class.
Study.
Monsters.
Dungeons.
All of it.
Stacked.
One after another.
Because of one promotion.
…Yeah.
I get why he called it complicated.
Another sigh.
This one lighter.
Quieter.
Acceptance creeping in.
"It's not wrong," he thought.
The Guild's reasoning.
Clearing space.
Letting lower ranks grow.
He's been sitting there too long.
And—
"It's my fault."
That too.
A year.
No assessment.
No adjustment.
Just… staying where he was.
Another breath.
Then—
"…Plans."
He said it under his breath this time.
The word Liora used.
It lingered.
He kept walking.
The northern gate came into view ahead—
But he didn't really see it.
Not yet.
Because his thoughts kept going.
He knew.
That was the frustrating part.
He knew he didn't have a plan.
Didn't have a direction.
Didn't even know if he wanted one.
Everything just… stopped.
Back then.
When they died.
His parents.
The world didn't stop.
But his did.
Or at least—
The part that moves forward.
What remained was simple.
Survive.
Keep going.
Because stopping—
That wasn't an option.
If he gave up…
If he chose to end it—
That would be worse.
A rejection.
Of everything they did for him.
Everything they left behind.
"…Can't do that."
The thought was quiet.
Firm.
Unshaken.
Then—
Another one followed.
Colder.
Or maybe just… honest.
"They wouldn't be around forever anyway."
A pause.
"The timing was just earlier."
No emotion attached.
Just a fact, accepted as it is.
And then—
A shift.
Subtle.
"It's not that I don't have a plan."
A small pause.
"I just don't know where to start."
…Yeah.
That one—
That one felt closer to the truth.
The ground changed.
He noticed it before I did.
Stone—
Gone.
Dirt underfoot.
The slight give with each step.
Different texture.
Different sound.
He lifted his gaze.
The gate—behind him now.
Somewhere along the way, he had already passed it.
…Huh.
So that's where we are.
The forest thinned as he moved through it.
Not unfamiliar anymore.
This time—
He knew what he was looking for.
Frostleaf came first.
Pale. Cool-toned. Easy to miss if you didn't know the texture to look for.
He checked the leaves.
Color. Shape.
Then touch.
Cold.
Right one.
Careful harvest. Clean cut. Stored.
Clearmint followed.
Brighter. Sharper presence among the greens.
He didn't even need to look as closely this time.
The scent gave it away.
Minty. Crisp.
Confirmed.
Harvested. Stored.
Step by step.
No wasted movement.
No second guessing.
At some point—
It stopped feeling like searching.
And started feeling like routine.
Time passed.
Unnoticed.
By the time he finished—
The sun had already climbed high.
Not overhead yet.
But close.
The heat had settled in.
Not oppressive.
Just steady.
The kind that lingers on your skin instead of burning it.
A little past midday.
Earlier than expected.
He adjusted the basket slightly and started back.
The road to the city came into view soon after.
And with it—
His thoughts returned.
But not the same as before.
Not tangled.
Not heavy.
Simpler.
Organized.
He wasn't asking why anymore.
He already knew he couldn't change it.
Promotion.
Requirements.
Expectations.
Locked in.
So instead—
How.
That's where his focus shifted.
First—
Job.
Blade class.
Current—
Swordsman.
Katana specialization.
I caught that detail immediately.
Speed.
Precision.
Offense-focused.
Minimal defense.
Different from the standard build.
Most swordsmen balance both.
He doesn't.
Which means—
His next step has to match that.
Duelist.
That was the first direction his thoughts moved toward.
Makes sense.
Same philosophy.
Refined. Focused.
But then—
Mentorship.
Right.
You don't just switch and suddenly know how to fight like one.
You need someone.
A reference point.
Guidance.
And that's where it stalled.
Because—
Who?
Next option—
Assassin.
Different path.
But not direct.
Requires a sub-class.
Striker.
Unarmed combat.
Then combined progression.
Equal proficiency.
Only then—
Assassin.
…That's a longer route.
More steps. More time.
Viole exhaled.
A quiet sigh.
Sub-class.
Another layer added to the pile.
Another decision waiting.
He brushed it aside.
Not now.
One thing at a time.
Job first.
Focus.
New job means new swordplay.
New habits.
New fundamentals.
And time—
Time isn't unlimited.
You can change jobs as many times as you want.
But learning each one properly—
That costs something.
And mastering it?
Different level entirely.
His thoughts drifted there for a second.
Mastery.
Then—
Cut.
Dismissed.
Not relevant.
Not now.
Learn first.
That's enough.
Mastery can come later.
Or not at all.
Doesn't matter yet.
Which brings it back to—
Choice.
He still hadn't made one.
Full circle.
…Almost.
Because this time—
It didn't loop endlessly.
It settled.
Duelist.
The idea held.
Two paths within it.
Dual wield.
Or fencer.
Same classification.
Same purpose.
Engage.
Eliminate.
Move on.
One target at a time.
Fast. Clean. Efficient.
…That fits.
More than the others so far.
The city gates came into view ahead.
And this time—
He saw them.
Actually saw them.
Steps steady.
Thoughts quieter now.
Not resolved.
But decided.
The decision settled before he reached the gate.
Duelist.
No hesitation after that.
It fit his current style.
Didn't force a complete rebuild.
Just… refined what was already there.
Faster. Cleaner.
More focused.
That part was easy.
The next—
Wasn't.
A Mentor.
His steps didn't slow, but his thoughts shifted again.
Where?
School came up first.
Structured. Reliable.
Then—dismissed.
Too long. Too expensive.
Uniforms. Materials.
Time spent sitting instead of working.
Not practical.
Mentorship made more sense.
Flexible. Direct.
And the requirement was simple.
Someone with higher proficiency.
That's it.
No formal barrier beyond that.
Payment negotiable. Schedule adjustable.
His mind ran through options—
Then stopped.
He didn't have one.
Not yet.
Which meant—
Find one.
Or—
Ask.
Liora.
She'd know people.
Or at least point him somewhere useful.
That settled it.
He'll ask her.
And look on his own.
Both.
No reason to limit it.
…Good.
That part's handled.
Which leaves—
Sub-class.
His grip on the basket shifted slightly.
That decision mattered more than it looked.
Main class is fixed.
Sub-class too. One choice. Permanent.
No correction later.
So—
It should take time.
Thought. Consideration.
…Except—
It didn't.
The answer was already there.
Mage.
I caught it the moment it surfaced.
…Mage?
That's—
Not what I expected.
From what I've seen so far, that doesn't line up with his combat style at all.
Blade main.
Speed-focused. Close-range.
Mage doesn't support that directly.
At least—not early.
Sub-class progression is slower.
Less efficient. Weaker output.
So in combat? Minimal impact.
At first.
But—
That's not the point.
I followed the reasoning as it unfolded.
Utility. Fire. Water.
Simple spells.
But in the right situation—
Everything.
No water source?
Create it.
No fire?
Fix that too.
Survival tools.
Reliable. Always available.
No dependence on items.
No reliance on external conditions.
…That's actually solid.
And not everyone can even do that.
Mana exists in everything—
But casting?
Different story.
That takes learning.
Actual effort.
Which is why magic tools exist.
Shortcuts.
Or rather—
Alternatives.
Because the real "shortcut" still costs more than most people can afford.
Spell tomes. Expensive. Hard-earned.
So no matter the route—
Mage isn't easy.
Which makes this choice… intentional.
But then—
Another layer surfaced.
And this one—
This one tied everything together.
Inventory.
There it is again.
The core of it.
The reason underneath the reason.
Mana pool.
That's what determines capacity.
Not skill. Not rank. Total mana.
The more he has—
The more he can store.
Food. Supplies. Anything.
And stored items—
Don't spoil. Don't degrade.
Locked in place.
Perfect preservation.
And bound to him. Only him.
I paused on that.
…Yeah.
That's huge.
Not just convenience.
That's long-term efficiency.
Stability. Security.
Which means—
Mage isn't for combat.
Not primarily.
It's an investment.
Time spent learning spells.
Casting. Training.
All of it—
To expand capacity.
To support everything else he does.
Slow gain. Massive return.
Viole didn't react to the conclusion.
Didn't acknowledge it out loud.
But the decision—
Was already made.
Duelist.
Mage.
Clear. Defined.
For once—
No hesitation.
The thoughts stopped as the Guild came into view.
Not gradually.
Just—cut.
Focus returned to the present.
The doors opened.
Noise followed immediately.
Same as before.
Voices overlapping.
Movement everywhere.
But this time—
They noticed him first. The group from earlier. The newbie adventurers.
They approached without hesitation.
"Viole!" one of them called.
Too direct.
Too familiar.
"Did you hear the news?"
Kiran approached and asked.
Of course they would ask that.
Viole nodded once.
"Yeah."
No elaboration. No pause.
He walked past them.
Straight to the counter.
Liora looked up—and blinked.
Once. Then again.
"…You're back already?"
There it is.
Her gaze dropped to the basket.
Then back to him.
A small smile formed.
"Oh?" she added lightly. "Finished early?"
A slight tilt of her head.
"Are you sure you got the right herbs this time?"
Teasing.
Expected.
Viole didn't respond.
He set the parchments down.
Then the basket.
Quiet. Direct.
No need to argue.
Liora let out a small hum and pulled the basket closer.
"Let's see…"
She opened it.
Checked the parchments first.
Then—
The contents.
Her hand paused mid-motion.
Just for a second.
Then she leaned in slightly.
Looked closer.
Picked one up.
Turned it. Another. Compared.
Her expression shifted.
Subtle—but clear.
"Oh."
Not teasing anymore.
She glanced back at the parchment.
Then the herbs again.
"…These are correct."
A small pause.
"Perfectly gathered, too."
I caught the difference immediately.
Not just the result—
The method.
No uprooted plants. No excess. No waste.
Just the usable parts.
Clean. Precise.
Completely different from before.
Liora noticed it too.
"Last time you did gathering…" she muttered, half to herself, "you practically ripped everything out of the ground."
A glance at him.
"Weeds, extra stems, unrelated plants…"
She lifted one of the frostleaf samples slightly.
"But this—"
A small nod.
"Clean cuts. Proper selection."
Her eyes narrowed just a bit.
Curious now.
"…Whoever taught you did a good job."
There it is.
Fishing.
She doesn't know. And she wants to.
I almost said it out loud.
Not that it would matter.
Viole cut in before she could push further.
"Help me find a mentor."
Straight to it.
No transition.
"For Duelist."
That got her.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Not because of the request—
Because of the decision.
"…You already chose?"
There was something like surprise in her voice now.
"That was fast."
Viole didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
She studied him for a second longer—
Then asked,
"And your sub-class?"
No pause.
"Mage."
That one—
That one hit harder.
"Huh?"
Loud… Too loud for the counter.
A few nearby heads turned.
Liora blinked, then straightened quickly, clearing her throat.
"…Mage?" she repeated, quieter this time.
Her expression shifted again.
Confusion. Genuine.
"Why?"
A simple question.
But loaded.
I could tell—
She expected hesitation.
Or at least something complicated.
Viole didn't plan to answer.
That much was clear.
But—
He did.
"Utility," he said.
Flat. Direct.
"Water and Fire element spells."
A small pause.
"Survival."
That alone would've been enough.
But he continued.
"And mana."
Liora stilled slightly.
"Inventory scales with it."
There it is.
The real reason.
No hesitation in saying it. No attempt to hide it.
Just fact.
Liora stared at him for a moment.
Then—
A slow exhale.
"…That's…"
She stopped midway.
Not what she expected.
But not wrong either.
Her gaze lingered a second longer—
Then shifted back to the present.
"Alright," she said. "Duelist mentor. C or B rank Blade proficiency."
Back to business.
But I could still feel it.
That slight shift.
The way she was looking at him now—
Just a little different than before.
Viole gave a small nod.
"Thanks."
Simple.
But it was there.
Gratitude—acknowledged, then set aside.
He didn't linger on it.
Instead—
"How much is an Inventoria Tome?" he asked.
Straightforward.
"I'm considering buying one."
That did it.
The group behind him reacted immediately.
"What's an Inventoria Tome?" Luna asked, curious.
Eira tilted her head. "Some kind of magic item?"
Rath stayed quiet—but her attention was clearly there.
Viole didn't turn fully.
Didn't elaborate much either.
"It lets you store items," he said.
A small pause.
"Portable space. Scales with mana."
That was enough.
More than enough.
Kiran blinked.
"…That sounds expensive."
It is.
Before Viole could answer—
Kiran spoke again.
"So that's what you're going to spend it on?"
A beat.
"You're getting fifty gold, right?"
…
Viole stopped.
His eyes shifted slightly.
Then turned—
To Liora.
A silent question.
She shrugged.
"I didn't say anything."
Which means—
They figured it out.
Or heard it from someone else.
Viole looked back at them.
And I caught it immediately—
The assumption.
They think he's keeping it.
All of it.
Because he was the one who dealt the final blow.
Because he was the one who handled the monster.
…Yeah.
From the outside—
That's how it looks.
But—
That's not how he sees it.
Not even close.
"I'm splitting it," he said.
Flat. Clear.
"With the party."
A small pause.
"Ten each."
Silence followed.
Just for a moment.
Kiran blinked.
"…All of us?"
Viole nodded once.
No hesitation. No second thought.
And I felt it—
Not generosity. Not kindness.
Just—
Accuracy.
Because in his mind—
That outcome wasn't his alone.
Not even close.
If the fight dragged—
If Eira and Rath weren't there—
If the fire didn't come when it did—
That situation changes.
Completely.
And if he was alone?
…
He already knew the answer.
He wouldn't have fought it like that.
Wouldn't have risked it.
Would've called for help.
Waited.
Because trying to save those two while dealing with that thing alone—
That's not strategy.
That's suicide.
And if he failed?
Then there's three people to save.
Or none.
So he wouldn't have done it.
Simple as that.
Which means—
The result they got?
Wasn't his alone to claim.
Not by his own standards.
I leaned into that thought for a second.
…He doesn't lie to himself.
That's what it comes down to.
No inflated sense of credit.
No bending the narrative.
Just—what actually happened.
And if I'm being honest?
It makes sense.
Because if it were me—
Yeah.
Same conclusion.
I wouldn't risk myself for strangers either.
Not like that.
And even if I tried—
There's no guarantee it works.
More likely it makes things worse.
So calling for help?
That's the logical choice.
Which means—
What happened back there wasn't something one person carries alone.
…Yeah.
I get it.
The silence broke slowly.
Kiran looked at the others.
Then back at Viole.
"…Thank you," he said.
This time—
There was no hesitation in his voice.
Viole gave a small nod at Kiran's thanks.
The others followed.
"Thank you."
"Really—thank you."
"…We won't waste it."
Different voices.
Same meaning.
Then—
A shift.
They looked at each other.
Eyes wide.
Smiles breaking through.
Excitement—unfiltered.
Ten gold.
For them—
That's not just money.
That's months. Maybe more.
I could feel it in the way their posture changed.
Lighter.
Almost unreal.
…Yeah.
That kind of jump doesn't happen often.
Viole didn't linger on it.
He turned back to the counter.
"The tome," he said.
"How much?"
Liora answered immediately.
"Seven gold."
…
Viole paused.
Just slightly.
But I felt it.
Surprise.
His eyes widened a fraction.
Seven?
That's—
Lower than expected.
Much lower.
He had it pegged at fifteen.
At least.
Maybe more.
…So this—
This is manageable.
Easily.
Then the follow-up thought came.
Should've asked earlier.
Simple. Direct.
No frustration.
Just acknowledgment.
Liora noticed.
Of course she did.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"Expensive, right?" she said.
A beat.
"Most tomes are."
She tapped the counter lightly.
"But the Inventoria Tome is an exception."
Her tone shifted slightly—more explanatory now.
"It's priced lower on purpose. Makes it accessible for adventurers once they reach a certain level."
A small shrug.
"Kind of an investment the Guild encourages."
That tracks.
Utility item.
High long-term value.
Lowering the entry barrier—
Smart.
Viole nodded once.
No further comment.
That was enough.
Liora moved on, pulling out a small pouch.
"Your gathering reward."
She handed it over.
"Fifty copper."
Light weight.
Expected.
Then—
"For the other rewards," she added, glancing between him and the group, "come back in two days."
A brief pause.
"Aqualis."
Right.
Timing aligned.
Viole tucked the pouch away.
Then Liora added one more thing.
"Oh—and you won't be getting points for these anymore."
A small tilt of her head.
"You're already considered Platinum. Just waiting for the formalities."
Proficiency check.
New plate. Pending.
Viole nodded again.
Understood. He turned.
Ready to leave—
Then—
A hand on his shoulder.
Firm.
He stopped.
Liora.
"Wait."
I already had a bad feeling about this.
She leaned slightly closer.
"I need a favor."
There it is.
Viole didn't turn fully.
"…No."
Immediate. Flat.
Not even hearing it out.
Liora didn't let go.
Of course she didn't.
"Just listen first."
He didn't respond.
Didn't move either.
She continued anyway.
"Help them manage their reward."
A slight gesture toward the group behind him.
"They're new."
Her voice softened—but only slightly.
"If they're careless, they could get robbed. Or waste it on something stupid."
…Not wrong.
Not even slightly.
Still—
Viole exhaled.
A quiet sigh.
"…No."
Same answer. Same tone.
Liora tightened her grip.
Not forceful.
But not letting go either.
Then—
She shifted tactics.
"I'll find you a mentor."
That got his attention.
Not visibly—
But I felt the pause.
"A good one," she added.
"High rank. Blade class."
A beat.
"A friend of mine. They'll be in town for two weeks."
…Now that—
That's leverage.
Two weeks.
Structured time. Direct learning.
Exactly what he needs.
Liora pressed a little further.
"Plenty of time for you to get started properly."
Silence.
Short—but real.
Then—
"Confirm it first," Viole said.
Finally turning slightly.
"If it's real—"
A small pause.
"I'll do it."
Clear terms.
No room for interpretation.
Liora's grip loosened immediately.
Then—
Gone.
Her expression shifted—bright, satisfied.
"Deal."
Just like that.
She straightened, almost too pleased with herself.
"I'll let you know as soon as it's confirmed."
…Yeah.
She planned that. From the start.
Viole didn't dwell on it.
Whether Liora planned it or not—
Didn't matter.
What mattered came next.
The moment he stepped outside—
His thoughts shifted.
Time.
He looked up slightly.
The sun had already begun its descent.
Not low. Not evening yet.
But past its peak.
The heat softened.
Shadows stretched just a little longer.
Mid to late afternoon.
An awkward time.
Too late to take another commission. Too early to go home.
He stood there for a second.
Not idle—
Just… measuring.
Before, gathering would've taken the entire day.
Searching. Guessing.
Second-guessing.
But now—
Done early.
And because of that—
Time opened up.
Unfamiliar. Unstructured.
He didn't like that.
Going home now wouldn't help.
He wouldn't rest. Wouldn't sleep.
Just sit there—
Wasting time.
Not his style.
So—
Library.
Liora mentioned it.
And it made sense.
Dungeons. Monsters.
If he's moving forward—
He needs to know what he's walking into.
Not interest. Not curiosity.
Just necessity.
And while he's out—
He can look.
Mentors.
Even if Liora's contact works out—
No harm in having options.
Decision made.
He started walking.
The streets were steady.
Not crowded. Not empty.
Just—moving.
Viole's gaze shifted occasionally.
Adventurers. Groups. Pairs. Solo.
He observed them as he passed.
Posture.
Gear.
Movement.
Small things.
But enough to tell—
None stood out. No one that made him stop. No one that felt… right.
So he kept walking.
The distance wasn't far.
The Scholar's Guild branch came into view first.
Larger than most buildings nearby.
Structured. Clean.
And beside it—
The library.
Easy to spot.
Massive. Wide structure. Tall walls.
Rows of windows catching the afternoon light.
Yeah.
No mistaking it.
He stepped inside.
Quiet.
Not silent—
But controlled.
Pages turning.
Soft footsteps.
That kind of quiet.
No guards. No receptionist.
Nothing obvious managing the place.
Which meant—
Magic.
Expected.
His attention shifted almost immediately.
Toward the device near the entrance.
Simple in form.
But not in function.
A flat surface.
Runic markings faintly glowing.
He stepped closer.
Observed. Input. Search. Locate.
It didn't take long to understand.
You enter a topic—
Or a title.
And it tells you where to go.
Direct.
…Okay.
I paused on that.
Then—
A thought slipped through.
That's basically a computer.
Search function.
Directory system.
Same concept.
Different execution.
I almost laughed.
So this world has something like this…
For a second—
I actually considered it.
Maybe—
Just maybe—
This place is more advanced than where I came from.
Then—
I stopped.
…No.
Not even close.
We had the internet.
That thought alone killed the comparison instantly.
Still—
I let out a quiet chuckle anyway.
Not bad though.
Viole didn't react.
Of course he didn't.
To him—
This is normal.
Just another tool.
He stepped closer to the device.
Ready to use it.