The walk back to the guild felt heavier than the battle itself. Not because my steps were slow or my body was drained, but because the world around me had finally gone quiet. After the chaos, silence carried weight. Lumiel walked to my right, his priest's robes faintly swaying, his expression unreadable yet steady. To my left, Orielle in her human form, with that fiery red hair and glowing amber eyes, seemed almost too radiant to belong in this world. Yuki had already turned into his small white hamster form, perched on my shoulder, his tiny whiskers twitching as if catching every whisper around us. Behind me walked Sylas, his newly freed presence calm, no longer corrupted but still carrying a quiet sorrow in those pale blue eyes.
People didn't cheer as we passed. They didn't need to. Gratitude filled the air in ways words couldn't. Adventurers, guards, even townsfolk who had hidden during the attack now came out to see us return. Some bowed. Some clasped their hands in prayer. Some simply stared, as if they were seeing a miracle walk among them. And in truth, I suppose that's what we looked like—fragments of a legend stitched into reality.
I kept my gaze forward, not because I ignored them, but because I didn't know how to respond. I had never been one for open praise. My name carried enough weight as it was—the daughter of Duke Emerald, ranked adventurer, and now, whether I wanted it or not, the supposed Spirit Beloved.
When the guild doors finally came into sight, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
The guild building was still standing, its banners fluttering in the breeze, its windows glowing with warm light despite the darkness outside. Adventurers had already returned to gather information, file reports, and likely, to spread the news of what had happened. My hands flexed at my sides. No matter how familiar the guild hall felt, I knew walking through those doors today would not be the same as yesterday.
The heavy oak doors creaked open, and inside, voices hushed. Every table was filled with adventurers, some bandaged, some still trembling from the memory of the fight. But the moment we entered, all eyes turned to us.
The silence was different from outside—it wasn't reverent; it was sharp, electric.
I stepped forward, the sound of my boots striking the wooden floor echoing through the hall. Yuki shifted on my shoulder, his little paws gripping my collar as if reminding me that I wasn't alone. Lumiel's steady steps followed. Orielle's fiery presence drew gazes like moths to a flame. And Sylas, with his aura of frost now purified, brought a chilling calm that contrasted sharply with the warmth of the guild lamps.
"Shellia Emerald."
The voice came from the second floor of the guild. Calm, steady, and unmistakably authoritative. The guild master.
She descended the staircase with the poise of someone who had seen countless battles yet carried herself like fire incarnate. Her long auburn hair, streaked with gold, shimmered like embers in the lamplight. Her eyes, sharp and molten, carried both judgment and warmth, the kind that could burn or comfort depending on who stood before her. Her crimson cloak marked her as someone powerful, but it was the subtle crackle of fire magic in the air that truly revealed her strength.
She reached the bottom step and stood before me. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause. Then, she smiled—small, controlled, but undeniably real.
"You returned."
Her words weren't loud, yet they carried through the hall.
"I did," I answered, keeping my tone steady.
"You didn't just return," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring me. "You led your companions, faced corruption, and purified not just land but lives. Rank B, they said." She let the words linger in the air, and a murmur ran through the adventurers behind us. "But today, you showed that your rank is no fluke."
I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Compliments never sat comfortably with me. Still, I bowed slightly, acknowledging her words without claiming them.
"Guild Master," I said, "the threat has been dealt with. The corruption has been purified. The survivors are safe thanks to Lumiel and Yuki's efforts. Orielle and Sylas are now under my contract as spirits. We came to report the mission complete."
The guild master studied me, her fiery gaze flicking briefly to Lumiel, Orielle, Yuki on my shoulder, and Sylas behind me. Then she looked back at me and spoke with the weight of authority.
"Shellia Emerald," she said clearly, so that all could hear, "you have not only completed the mission, but you have surpassed the expectations placed upon you. Today marks more than a victory against monsters. Today confirms the presence of the Spirit Beloved."
A ripple spread through the hall. Whispers, gasps, some even clutched their weapons tighter.
"The Spirit Beloved…" someone muttered.
"The legend is true."
"Did you see the fire? The purification? Spirits walking beside her—real spirits!"
I froze. My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to deny it, to claim I was simply doing what needed to be done. But the gazes of my companions anchored me. Yuki's tiny body warm against my cheek, Orielle's confident stance, Sylas' calm patience, Lumiel's steady shield—they were all proof I couldn't erase.
The guild master, however, raised her hand, silencing the room.
"I will not spread rumors," she said firmly. "But facts speak for themselves. What we witnessed today is no exaggeration, no drunken tale. The Spirit Beloved stands here, and we are fortunate she walks among us."
I shifted uncomfortably, but there was no malice in her words. Her voice was strong, but her eyes softened as they met mine. Supportive, yet professional.
She gestured to a clerk standing by the desk. "Record this mission as complete. Update Shellia Emerald's record—rank B confirmed with distinction."
The clerk nodded quickly, pen scratching furiously against parchment.
Applause broke out then—not the wild, chaotic cheering of celebration, but a steady, deliberate rhythm of gratitude. Adventurers clapped their hands against tables, guards clapped their fists against their chests. It was respect, not spectacle.
I drew in a deep breath and inclined my head.
The guild master stepped closer, lowering her voice so only I could hear. "You'll carry this weight now, Shellia. People will look to you differently. Some with admiration. Some with envy. But remember—you've earned your place. Don't doubt it."
Her words cut deeper than any praise. I met her eyes, saw the flicker of warmth beneath the steel, and nodded. "I understand."
Behind me, Orielle folded her arms, smirking with her usual confidence. Sylas stood quietly, his expression unreadable but his aura steady, as if already adapting to his new role. Lumiel inclined his head respectfully toward the guild master, while Yuki squeaked softly on my shoulder, as if approving the guild master's words.
The guild master turned back to the hall, her voice rising again. "This mission is closed. Rest, recover, and prepare. If corruption has touched this city, it will touch others. But tonight, we remember victory."
The guild hall erupted in relieved cheers, laughter finally spilling out like water after a drought. Tankards were raised, food was passed, and voices grew louder. For once, the noise didn't feel heavy—it felt alive.
I exhaled, tension draining from my shoulders. For the first time since the battle, I allowed myself a small smile.
We had returned.
We had endured.
And though the road ahead promised greater storms, for this night at least, there was peace.
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