The great guildhall of Velria was never quiet, not even in the late hours of the evening. Lanterns burned with a steady golden glow, illuminating the stone pillars and marble floors that gave the hall its imposing grandeur. Normally, the air was filled with laughter, the clatter of mugs, and the hustle of adventurers negotiating contracts. Tonight, however, the atmosphere was tense, brittle as glass. The reports had arrived earlier that day: Ouroboros agents were no longer operating in the shadows—they had directly engaged Alex, the newly risen Black Rank Adventurer, on the roads near Avila.
The vice guild leader of Velria, Lorian Veyra, stood at the central table. His hair was slicked back, his eyes sharp as obsidian, and every movement carried the weight of command. Around him sat a dozen high-ranking officers, each flipping through scrolls filled with scribbled accounts of the ambush.
