I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 40 - []

"The road to Legend started here. And it started with finding a place to sleep that didn’t involve mud."

It also started, apparently, with selling pastries.

"Two coppers! Just two coppers for the brioche!" Tybalt shouted, leaning out the back of the wagon. He was in his element, handing out warm buns to a small crowd of dockworkers and sailors that had formed around our cart as we navigated the cobblestone streets.

"Tybalt," I hissed from the driver’s seat, keeping my head low as a Covenant patrol marched past on the adjacent street. "Stop selling the inventory. We’re supposed to be finding an inn, not franchising."

"I can’t help it!" Tybalt whispered back, exchanging a bun for a handful of coins. "They’re hungry! And the yeast is still rising! If I don’t sell it, the dough will take over the wagon!"

"Let him cook," Red said, lounging on a barrel of flour and flipping a silver coin. "Literally. He’s made enough for our room and board in the last three blocks. People in this city love carbs."

We finally pulled up to an establishment that looked sturdy enough to hold us and cheap enough not to ask questions. The Broken Anchor. It was a three-story timber building wedged between a fish market and a warehouse. The sign swung lazily in the sea breeze, squeaking with every gust.

"This looks... quaint," Lysandra said, eyeing a drunk sailor who was currently having an argument with a seagull near the front door.

"It looks discreet," I corrected. "And it has a stable in the back. Kaelen, bring the wagon around. Red, Cian, go secure the rooms. Tybalt, stop feeding the pigeons."

An hour later, we were squeezed into two small rooms on the top floor. The smell of fish was faint but persistent, masking the lingering scent of Tybalt’s brioche.

"Okay," I said, locking the door and casting a quick glance at the window to ensure no one was listening. "Phase One complete. We’re in. We have a base."

"Phase Two," Kaelen said, unbuckling his leather trench coat to reveal the black armor underneath. He looked relieved to be out of the ’logistic manager’ disguise. "The Guild."

"We can’t walk in there looking like bakers," Ria said, pulling her glass daggers from her boots. "But if we walk in looking like this—" she gestured to Lysandra’s very conspicuous silver armor "—the Covenant spies might tip off the guards."

"We wear cloaks until we’re inside," I said. "The Guildhall is neutral territory. By treaty, the City Guard and the Covenant have no jurisdiction on the Guild floor. Once we’re past the doors, we can show our faces. Mostly."

"What about the weapons?" Cian asked, tapping his Infinite Scroll. "If they scan us at the door?"

"They won’t scan for magic," I said. "They scan for badges. Since we don’t have badges, we go to the ’New Blood’ line. It’s usually staffed by a bored receptionist who doesn’t get paid enough to care."

I reached into my bag and pulled out a fresh tunic. I swapped my flour-dusted clothes for clean gear. I kept the rusty knife at my belt. It was becoming a lucky charm.

"Everyone ready?" I asked.

"As I’ll ever be," Tybalt sighed, pulling a heavy grey cloak over his apron. He insisted on keeping the apron. He said it gave him ’structural integrity.’

"Let’s go get a job," I said.

The Leviathan’s Rest was massive. It wasn’t just a building; it was a fortress of commerce. The double doors were made of whalebone and iron, standing twenty feet high. Above them, the symbol of the Silver-Port Guild Association—a Kraken holding a bag of gold—gleamed in the lantern light.

The street outside was packed. Adventurers of every rank mingled here. I saw mages with glowing staffs, warriors with scars that looked like roadmaps of bad decisions, and rangers checking their bowstrings.

We pulled our hoods low and slipped through the crowd.

Inside, the noise hit us like a physical blow. The main hall was a cavernous space filled with long tables, a massive bar, and a quest board that spanned the entire back wall. The air smelled of roasted meat, stale beer, and ego.

"Don’t make eye contact," I whispered to the group. "Walk like you belong here."

We navigated through the sea of adventurers toward the registration desk at the far end.

The desk was manned by a dwarf with a beard braided into three distinct knots and a monocle that seemed permanently fogged up. He was stamping papers with a rhythmic, aggressive thud-thud-thud. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

We stopped in front of him. He didn’t look up.

Thud. Thud.

"We’d like to register a Guild," I said.

The dwarf paused. He slowly looked up. His eyes scanned us, lingering on Kaelen’s height and Lysandra’s posture.

"Registration hours are nine to five," the dwarf grunted. "Come back tomorrow."

"It’s four-thirty," I pointed out, tapping the clock on the wall.

The dwarf squinted at the clock. He grumbled something that sounded like "stupid punctual humans" and pulled a fresh form from a stack.

"Name of the Guild?"

"Eclipse," I said.

"Party leader?"

"Me."

The dwarf paused again. He looked at me—Level 15, holding a rusty knife, wearing a plain grey coat. Then he looked at Kaelen, who radiated ’don’t mess with me’ energy even under a cloak.

"You’re the leader?" the dwarf asked skeptically.

"I’m the brains," I said. "He’s the muscle."

"Right," the dwarf muttered, writing it down. "Registration fee is fifty gold. Non-refundable."

Red stepped forward and dropped a heavy pouch on the counter. It clinked with the sound of pure gold.

The dwarf opened it, checked a coin with his teeth, and nodded. "Coin is good. Now, the Sponsor."

"Sponsor?" Lysandra asked.

"To register a Guild, you need a voucher from a Platinum-Rank adventurer or a City Council member," the dwarf droned, reciting the rule he’d probably said a thousand times. "Prevents riff-raff from clogging up the quest board."

"We don’t have a sponsor," I said.

The dwarf closed the ledger. "Then you don’t have a Guild. Move along."

"Wait," I said, putting my hand on the counter. "There’s an alternative. The Bylaws, Section 4, Paragraph 2."

The dwarf froze. He looked at me over the rim of his monocle.

"You’ve read the Bylaws?"

"I read a lot," I said. "Section 4 states that if a party lacks a sponsor, they may prove their worth by accepting an Open Bounty of S-Rank or higher."

The noise in the immediate vicinity of the desk died down. A few adventurers at nearby tables stopped drinking and turned to look.

"S-Rank?" the dwarf laughed. It was a dry, dusty sound. "Lad, S-Rank bounties are suicide notes. The last team that took one came back in a bucket. Literally. A bucket."

"We’re aware of the risks," Kaelen rumbled, stepping up beside me.

"We want the Hollow Spire," I said loudly.

The silence spread. It rippled outward from the desk until the entire Guildhall was quiet. Even the bard in the corner stopped strumming his lute.

"The Spire?" a voice called out from a nearby table.

A man stood up. He was huge, wearing gilded armor that looked more expensive than practical. A Platinum badge gleamed on his chest.

"You whelps want the Spire?" the man laughed, walking over. He had a scar running down his cheek and a mug of ale in his hand. "I lost three good men in the first five floors of that hellhole. And you..." He poked my chest with a finger the size of a sausage. "...you look like you’d die if I sneezed on you."

"Personal space," I said, stepping back calmly.

[Target: Gondar]

[Rank: Platinum]

[Guild: The Golden Lions]

[Level: 42]

"Let them go, Gondar," the dwarf said, sounding bored. "If they want to die, it’s less paperwork for me."

"I’m just trying to save them the trouble," Gondar sneered. He looked at Lysandra, who still had her hood up. "Hey, sweetheart. Why don’t you ditch the losers and join a real Guild? The Lions are always recruiting support staff."

Lysandra stiffened. I saw her hand twitch toward her rapier.

"Don’t," I whispered. "Neutral ground."

Lysandra took a breath. "I prefer my current company," she said, her voice icy. "They smell better."

Gondar’s face flushed red. The crowd snickered.

"Listen here, little—" Gondar reached for her hood.

Kaelen moved.

He didn’t draw his sword. He just stepped between Gondar and Lysandra. He grabbed Gondar’s wrist mid-air.

Gondar tried to pull away. He couldn’t. Kaelen’s grip was like a vice.

"Touch her," Kaelen whispered, "and you lose the hand."

Gondar’s eyes went wide. He tried to flex his muscles, to overpower this nobody in a cloak, but Kaelen didn’t budge. The strength difference was palpable. Kaelen was Level 45 with stats boosted by the Soul Fragment’s residual energy. Gondar was just a bully with good gear.

"Let go," Gondar hissed, realizing he was making a scene he couldn’t win.

Kaelen released him. Gondar stumbled back, rubbing his wrist.

"You’ll regret that," Gondar spat. "The Spire will eat you alive. And if it doesn’t, I’ll be waiting when you crawl out."

He stormed off back to his table. The chatter in the hall resumed, louder than before.

"Drama," the dwarf sighed. "I hate drama."

He pulled out a black scroll with a red seal.

"The Hollow Spire," he said, stamping it. "Floors 1 through 10. Bring back the core of the Floor Boss as proof. If you do, you get your license, your Guildhall, and the bounty."

He handed me the scroll.

"If you die, the Guild assumes ownership of your horses. Sign here."

I signed Ren on the dotted line.

"Welcome to the queue," the dwarf said. "Next!"

We walked out of the Guildhall and into the cool night air. The tension from the confrontation was still buzzing in my veins.

"That guy was a jerk," Tybalt said, shivering. "Why are high-level people always jerks?"

"Insecurity," Red said. "He knows he peaked at Level 40."

"We have the quest," I said, holding up the black scroll. "Now we just need to clear it."

"The Hollow Spire," Cian said, looking at the scroll. "I read about it in the archives before... well, before. It’s an inverted tower. It goes down into the earth. It was built by a mage who went mad trying to find the center of the world."

"Sounds like my kind of place," Kaelen said.

"There’s a catch," I reminded them. "The Curse of Silence. Inside the Spire, vocal magic doesn’t work. You can’t chant spells. You have to cast silently."

"Silent casting is advanced," Lysandra noted. "Most mages need the vocal component to stabilize the mana."

"I can do silent," Cian said, pushing his glasses up. "I just have to write the equations in the air. It’s slower, but it works."

"And you, Lysandra?" I asked.

"Paladin magic is willpower-based," she said. "I can channel light without words. But it will be weaker."

"Red and Kaelen are fine," I said. "Physical damage works normally. And Tybalt..."

"I throw things," Tybalt said. "Dirt is silent."

"Exactly."

We walked back to the inn. The city was settling down for the night, but the lights from the harbor reflected off the low clouds.

"Ren," Kaelen asked as we reached the door of The Broken Anchor. "Why did you provoke that guy? Gondar?"

"I didn’t provoke him," I said. "I let him establish us as underdogs."

"Why?"

"Because," I said, opening the door. "When we clear the Spire—which nobody expects us to do—the shock value will be doubled. Gondar will tell everyone we’re dead. When we walk back in alive... the rumors will spread twice as fast."

"Marketing," Red grinned. "I like it."

"We go in at dawn," I said. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we go underground again."

I went to my room. Tybalt and Cian were already asleep, snoring in harmony.

I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled out the ID card.

[Current Objective: Clear the Hollow Spire.]

[Hidden Objective: Locate the Dragon’s Heart.]

I froze.

Dragon’s Heart?

I hadn’t seen that objective before.

The Spire wasn’t just a dungeon. It was a probe. A needle stuck deep into the earth.

If the Iron Hold was the battery... the Spire was the thermometer. It measured the Dragon’s pulse.

"Of course," I whispered. "Everything connects."

I put the card away and lay back.

The first step of the long game was done. We had a target.

Tomorrow, we wouldn’t just be fighting monsters. We’d be checking the vital signs of the apocalypse.

"Sleep well, Dragon," I murmured. "We’re coming to take your temperature."