I left Peko with a brief rundown at the bottom of the stairs, Iron Vanguard, paperwork, contract notarization, Mimi at the front desk if she was around, which was all Peko needed to hear before giving me a single nod and turning toward the staff section with Nom-Nom and the Vanguard in tow like the most terrifying PTA delegation in recorded history.

Then I went upstairs.

The noise from the bar below dropped off within the first few steps, the thick timber of the staircase and the floor above doing the work of a sound barrier.

By the time I reached the top landing, the guild hall might as well have been a different building.

The lighting up here came from enchanted lamps in wall sconces that put out a warm amber rather than the brighter utility light downstairs, even the tables here looked heavier, and the chairs had cushions.

There were maybe five parties up here.

All of them were seated with the relaxed, unhurried look of people who no longer needed to prove anything.

Unlike down below, the conversations at each table were low enough that they did not carry across the room.

Nobody was arguing about pay rates or bragging about dungeon floors.

A waiter stood at the railing overlooking the hall below, hands clasped, clearly tracking every occupied seat and was available the moment he was needed.

His sole job, as far as I could tell, was to run drinks and orders between this floor and the kitchen without disturbing anyone or getting in anyone’s way.

I had been thinking about the Chief since the bartender called his name downstairs.

The first time I had seen him was at the southern border, coming out of the forest with Nom-Nom and Peko at my back, and the first thing he had done was organize his party into combat formation without raising his voice, which told me everything I needed to know about what kind of man he was, even before I knew who he was.

The second time had been here, in this building, and it had not gone well.

I had read the situation wrong and said something I should not have said, in front of a hall full of people who had spent years watching this man put himself between them and all things that wanted to harm or exploit them.

And the fallout from that had been justifiably nuclear.

Then the Settlement duel. Octavia appearing as the arena proctor with all the energy of someone who lives off of chaos.

The moment after I won the duel, when the crowd had tried the loophole, and I had loaded the shotgun, ready to take them all on, she handled the situation for me.

The Archer I had not actually spoken to yet, but I was reasonably certain he had opinions about me that he had not fully articulated.

As I walked and took my first step onto the upper floor, my ice leg left a single frost print with each step on the polished wooden floors, I spotted them at the far table.

The tale itself was positioned at exactly the angle that gave a partial sightline to the hall below, which was either a coincidence or a deliberate choice, and I was betting on the latter.

The Archer saw me before I saw him. He was already looking at the stairs by the time I cleared the top landing, jerking his chin once toward my direction without shifting his posture, and both the Chief and Octavia had their eyes on me before I was three steps into the upper floor.

Kael was lean, green-haired, in light leather with a rune-etched bow propped against the table beside him.

Octavia had brown hair down to her shoulders, green eyes, and was leaning back in her chair with a mug in her grip.

The Chief was the Chief. Nearly seven feet, bald, deep tan, mage robes stretched across his frame, a mug of mead in front of him, and he was looking at me with both hands flat on the table, and his eyes steady.

I covered the remaining distance to their table, leaving the frost prints behind me, noticing Octavia’s eyes dropped to them once and then came back up.

"Leave it up to the Chief to call a poor cripple upstairs just to talk." I chuckled as I arrived at their table.

"You’re the last person on this damn planet who has any right to call himself a poor cripple." He shot back without missing a beat, his voice rough.

While I simply giggled in response.

"Grab a chair..." he gestured vaguely toward the other tables. "And a mug. I have something for you."

I looked left. I looked right.

Then I looked the Chief directly in the eye and activated Dominium Radicis.

The roots came up from the floorboards without rushing, pushing upward and intertwining, and within a few seconds the throne was there, wide-backed with interlocked armrests, the roots darkening as I reinforced them, and I sat down in it and crossed my ice leg over the knee of my good one and rested my cheek on my fist.

Then the roots spread across the surface of the table and built a mug. Wide at the base, narrowing at the rim, the root structure woven tight enough to hold liquid.

And as the mug settled into place, the small thorn on the outside of it began producing my neurotoxin in a steady stream of clear green nectar that caught the warm lamplight and looked, to anyone at the table, like exactly what it was: the forbidden iced tea.

As the mug filled, I dropped a couple of Ice Pebbles into it while twisting the thorn root into a handle for the mug.

The whole setup now looked like they had come to speak to me instead of the other way around.

Kael went still. Octavia’s eyebrows went up while she giggled. The Chief looked at the throne and then at me, and the corner of his mouth curved just a fraction.

Most of the other tables had gone quiet and were looking over.

While I casually picked up the mug and took a sip.

"I’m not really an alcohol guy," I said, leaning back. "Genuinely, it’s terrible for the body long-term... not to mention the addictions bad enough to ruin homes."

I was drinking clear neurotoxin while telling an S-rank adventurer about the health risks of mead.

Kael looked at the mug like it had offended his ancestors.

The Chief chuckled, low and quiet, and lifted his own mug.

"First of all," he said, his voice dropping enough that it did not carry beyond the table. "I want to say thank you."

I tilted my head at him.

"I know about the Entropy business," he said. "The news came through official channels. The General is pushing for our involvement."

He paused, and his eyes stayed steady on mine.

"That cultist was after you. You had every reason to prioritize your own safety. A Tier 5 running one of the strongest cultivation techniques in the world, with a goddamn Tier 9 cursed blade, and a full horde on top of it... You had every reason to handle your survival before anything else. But you didn’t. You held that line until morning. You made sure nobody-"

"Okay, okay..." I cut him with a chuckle, waving a hand in front of my chest, "I got it. Stop. You’re making me ticklish down there."

-BANG.

Kael’s fist hit the table, and his chair scraped back an inch from the force of it.

"God damn it, man!" he said, teeth clenched. "First, you insulted him in front of the entire guild. Now this? I swear to god I’m going to shoot your stupid face."

I looked at him.

"Stupid? First off, you should get your eyes checked, Mr. Scout. My face looks absolutely fabulous," I chuckle at him with an eyebrow raised, " And second off, my absolutely fabulous face is right flippin here... So, shoot it. I dare your ass. Hell, I’ll make it even sweeter for you. I’ll give you a bounty for my own head."

Keeping my eyes on him, I leaned slightly forward, "Now, name your price and... Shoot. My. Fabulous. Face."

The entire upper floor had gone completely silent.

Kael’s face was red, and his hand had moved toward the bow without him doing it consciously as he glared at me in pure hatred.

Octavia was watching the whole thing with her chin propped in one hand, as though she had been handed exactly the afternoon she had been hoping for.

Before things could boil over, the Chief’s voice rang out with just one word.

"Enough."

Kael immediately shut his mouth, leaned back, folded his arms like a child, and aimed his expression at the wall.

While I, too, settled back on the throne before turning towards the Chief.

"Look..." I said as I took another sip of the neurotoxin. "I did what I did because I knew I was strong enough to do it. If I had been just another cockroach out there, I would have cut my losses. Who knows, I might still have all my limbs."

"Hm," he nodded once before speaking, "There is something I need to ask before I get to the real reason I called you up here."

"Shoot."

"Are you going to join us against Entropy?"

Octavia stared at me unblinking. Even Kael stopped glaring at the wall.

"No. Before Entropy, I’m just another cockroach." I replied without missing a beat," Hard to kill, yes, but an insect nonetheless. So, I’m going to cut my losses and save myself the remaining limbs."

Octavia sighed and looked away. While Kael’s expression worsened.

The Chief looked at me for a full second without moving, reading something in my face, and then he said, "Will you be leaving Fugen?"

"Nope," I said. "People are counting on Nom-Nom to fill up the gap in firepower left behind by the Crusader...and I’m not pulling that out from under them."

"I see," he nodded, picking up his mug. "Now. The actual reason I called you up here."

"Building suspense, huh..." I couldn’t stop the chuckle. "Didn’t take you for the theatrical type."

"Kisho Hikaru, the owner of Hollow Cinder Mine..." He said, ignoring what I just said, "He wants to speak with you."

"Huh... Got it. If that’s all-"

"Minor nobles and businessmen like him," the Chief cut me off, "... are like hungry hyenas. Always looking to expand their private forces. And adventurers who stand out often become prime targets. If money won’t sway you, they resort to other ways..."

"Expected as much," I said, nodding.

"So, tell me when you plan to visit him." He looked at me with absolute sincerity as he said, " I’ll come with you..."

I looked at him, honestly bewildered.

This was not a casual offer.

An S-rank Adventurer, the Union Head of the Shinkotsu Adventurer’s Guild, offering to accompany a Tier 1 rookie to a meeting with a minor businessman, was the clearest statement of: This person is under my protection, and I would like to see you try something.

And it was being offered by the man I had publicly insulted in front of his entire community.

"Damn..." I chuckled, leaning back in the throne. "The hype was real, it seems. No wonder everyone was this close to lynching me right then and there."

"That is all. Tell me when you have decided. But do not take long."

"How about today?" I tilted my head.