Crystal panes woke above the lobby dais like lilies opening to light. Lines of script unscrolled in the glass. Gasps skittered through the crowd; a dropped quill clicked on stone.
"Read that," someone whispered. "Read it out loud."
A central pane flared, bright enough to tint faces pale.
ROY GUNN
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 99,993rd
Strength: 124,588th
Speed: 125,662nd
Magic Prowess: 145,555th
Healing Arts: Unranked
Tactical Acumen: 1,544th
Mana Capacity: 1st (LP = 4,000)
Ranged Proficiency: 1st (LP = 1,000+)
Stealth & Agility: 127,988th
Survival & Endurance: 1st (LP = 116)
Charisma & Leadership: 5th
Crafting & Alchemy: 1st (LP = 1,000+)
Silence hit hard when the LP gaps landed. Then noise. Chairs scraped. Someone actually swore at the ceiling.
"LP four thousand on mana?"
"A thousand-plus on ranged? That's not… is that a bug?"
"He's first in Crafting too? With zero missions logged?"
Roy angled toward Maelara. "What the hell is LP?"
She drew a breath, found no words, and gave a faint shake of her head.
A steadier voice cut in from beside them. "LP is the guild's multiplier," Lynder said. "It shows how many times the top performer exceeds the runner-up in that category. Ten is the lowest we publish. If it reads one thousand plus, the instruments hit their cap for everything barring mana." He lifted a hand toward the panes. "Your mana at four thousand means four thousand times the next name down. Survival at one sixteen means you last one hundred sixteen times longer by our standard trial. Ranged and Crafting at one thousand plus means the boards cannot measure you cleanly."
Silence held for a beat. He cleared his throat. "Also, thank you. The referral grant attached to your registrations was a fortune. Ninety percent will go to charity."
"And the other ten?" Roy asked.
"Fifty-nine alimony payments."
Suri drifted past, plucked a gold coin from his hand, and kept walking.
"Make that sixty," Lynder said. "I will be working until I die for sure."
New cards blossomed around the first, orbiting like petals.
ZEHRINA
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 46th
Strength: 6,891st
Speed: 28th
Magic Prowess: 1st
Healing Arts: Unranked
Tactical Acumen: 20,233rd
Mana Capacity: N/A
Ranged Proficiency: 3rd
Stealth & Agility: 78,663rd
Survival & Endurance: 16th
Charisma & Leadership: 9,696th
Crafting & Alchemy: Unranked
"Magic Prowess, first?" a clerk breathed. "Not possible, must be an error."
ERYNDRA
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 1st (Tie)
Strength: 2nd
Speed: 1st
Magic Prowess: N/A
Healing Arts: N/A
Tactical Acumen: —
Mana Capacity: N/A
Ranged Proficiency: N/A
Stealth & Agility: 3rd
Survival & Endurance: 2nd
Charisma & Leadership: 65,447th
Crafting & Alchemy: N/A
A low whistle rolled across the hall. "That strong as a rookie? I'd love to see her fight that crazy beastwoman!"
More panes spun into view, bright as cut ice.
FDR
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 11th
Strength: 90th
Speed: 74th
Magic Prowess: 24th
Healing Arts: N/A
Tactical Acumen: 7th
Mana Capacity: N/A
Ranged Proficiency: 24,413rd
Stealth & Agility: 45th
Survival & Endurance: 26th
Charisma & Leadership: 82nd
Crafting & Alchemy: N/A
JFK
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 110th
Strength: 81st
Speed: 82nd
Magic Prowess: 28th
Healing Arts: N/A
Tactical Acumen: 36th
Mana Capacity: N/A
Ranged Proficiency: 67th
Stealth & Agility: 45th
Survival & Endurance: 19th
Charisma & Leadership: 89th
Crafting & Alchemy: N/A
TRUMAN
(Beyond-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 90th
Strength: 87th
Speed: 85th
Magic Prowess: 30th
Healing Arts: N/A
Tactical Acumen: 34th
Mana Capacity: N/A
Ranged Proficiency: 7th
Stealth & Agility: 55th
Survival & Endurance: 29th
Charisma & Leadership: 100th
Crafting & Alchemy: N/A
"Those three are monsters in disguise, I know it!" someone muttered, half awe, half fear.
WARREX
(A-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 124th
Strength: 92nd
Speed: 112th
Magic Prowess: 24,755th
Healing Arts: 112,222nd
Tactical Acumen: 225th
Mana Capacity: 14,344th
Ranged Proficiency: 56,456th
Stealth & Agility: 9th
Survival & Endurance: 75th
Charisma & Leadership: 245,558th
Crafting & Alchemy: 56,489th
LUTRIAN
(B-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 1,765th
Strength: 2,900th
Speed: 1,829th
Magic Prowess: 787th
Healing Arts: 10,226th
Tactical Acumen: 512th
Mana Capacity: 7,891st
Ranged Proficiency: 2,777th
Stealth & Agility: 3,627th
Survival & Endurance: 2,511th
Charisma & Leadership: 30th
Crafting & Alchemy: N/A
TAKARA
(D-Class)
Guild Ability Ranks
Close Quarters Combat (CQC): 11,537th
Strength: 10,514th
Speed: 23,222nd
Magic Prowess: 7,855th
Healing Arts: 147,799th
Tactical Acumen: 201,933rd
Mana Capacity: 25,828th
Ranged Proficiency: N/A
Stealth & Agility: 24,575th
Survival & Endurance: 9,855th
Charisma & Leadership: 211,332nd
Crafting & Alchemy: 501st
Murmurs braided into a roar. Pages scurried. A scribe started copying Roy's LP numbers by hand, then stopped, just stared.
On the far wall, a separate display ticked over to an Overall Leaderboard. Gold script settled.
Overall Leaderboard
Roy Gunn — Missions: 0
Valen Nightquill — Missions: 4,112
Aven — Missions: 4,022
Rowan — Missions: 3,342
"That's not possible," a receptionist whispered. "Zero missions and he bumped Valen? Could he be stronger than the guildmasters?"
Roy let the disbelief wash by. He had nothing to prove to their hallway arguments.
A dry voice slid into the gap. "You're the new big shots, I see."
A tall elf in a pristine sash approached with the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. He gave the floating cards a cursory glance, then looked down his nose at Roy's group. "So. The 'Slaving Iron Thunder' crew. How fortunate for us, record-breakers with zero missions to their name."
"The what... Nevermind, we plan to fix that," Roy said, polite as a sharpened spoon. "We'll take quests that match rank."
"Match your rank?" The manager dusted a fleck from his sash. "We don't hand out high-level contracts to novices with no track record. Procedures exist." He let the watching lobby soak in his tone. "Start with basics. Collect fifty Duskblossom Herbs from the Selerun Forest. Two days."
Orden bristled beside Roy. "You see these ranks? We topped half your boards—"
A hand settled on Orden's shoulder. "Easy," Roy said to Orden, quiet. "We're not novices, bro."
"You talk big." The manager's smile tightened. "Bring the herbs."
"Fine," Roy said.
Warrex rolled his shoulders once and headed for the doors without comment. Takara touched a sigil on her kit, priming a storage seal. The manager watched them go with the bored smirk of a man who thought he'd already won.
Pages turned in the lounge. Roy stretched out on a couch, manga propped, the soft rustle of paper covering the minutes. Light shifted on the floor. Somewhere, a clock tapped.
Fifteen minutes later, Warrex strolled back in with a small pack brimming with Duskblossom. He had barely broken a sweat. The manager's smug look evaporated.
"Done," Warrex said.
"That… the forest is ten miles… how did you—" The elf yanked the pack open. Fifty fresh sprigs, all sealed under Takara's neat runic stencil.
"Any more chores?" Roy asked without looking up, flipping a page.
Color climbed the elf's ears. "I… have tasks queued for novices. Clean stables. Fetch—"
"We'll do them," Zehrina said, arms folded, voice like a cool blade. "The Presidroids and Warrex will have them done in moments."
The list hit the counter. Ten more errands. Presidroids dispersed on quiet feet. Warrex vanished and returned, vanished and returned, a metronome of competence. Takara stamped each haul with a seal and stacked it by the clerk's stool. The lobby watched the pile grow and the manager shrink.
Roy read in peace, the manga panel bright under the lobby light, while the hall struggled to recalibrate what "novice" meant.
A small shape leaned over Roy's shoulder to read the speech bubble, voice bright with effort. Pale violet skin, short black hair tipped in orange, two forward-curved horns wrapped in red ribbons. Golden eyes shone with mischief instead of menace, and a pointed tail flicked in quick, happy beats behind her.
A demon Roy thought to himself.
Burgundy coat with gold trim sat over a lace-up black dress and puffed sleeves tied with ribbons. Stockings did not match, one starred, one striped, close enough to an old American flag to make Roy do a triple take. Rugged, buckled boots thudded softly on stone as she bounced, trinkets on her belt and coat chiming just enough to make her look like trouble in festival colors.
Roy turned a page. A small voice behind his shoulder read the speech bubble aloud, stumbling over a sound effect, then giggled.
"Like it?" he said without looking.
"Mmmm, yep!" Paper rustled as she leaned closer. "Can I play with him?" A finger pointed at Orden, who was using a chair like a balance beam.
He lifted a hand in a lazy go-ahead. "Knock yourselves out."
Laughter popped like soap bubbles. The two of them took off around the lounge couches, skidding on polished stone, doubling back through chair legs. Orden sprinted low, then let her close. She tagged his elbow. He shook his head and moved faster. She cut him off with a sharp little sidestep faster than Roy could track.
A push landed on his chest. Nothing. She pushed harder. Same result. Frustration tightened her mouth; pale violet soaked out of her skin in a mist, the mana scent like ash and sugar.
From behind her, Roy gave Orden a quick nod.
The boy sold it. He flew backward with perfect, flailing melodrama, slid three yards on his back, and finished facedown with his arms and legs splayed like a starfish. The girl stood over him, panting, then grinned so wide her cheeks bunched. She offered a hand. He took it and popped up as if yanked by a pulley.
A hush rippled the room that had nothing to do with play.
Bootsteps clicked, even and light. A tall, lean woman stopped by the counter, predator grace in every line, tawny hair streaked with black and a dusting of sharp freckles across her cheeks. Cheetah ears pricked atop her head. A long scaly tail coiled behind her, furred at the base and plated in drake scales toward the tip. Amber-green eyes took in the room and did not blink.
She wore a black and white gi, the weave thickened with dragon-hide patches. One shoulder wore jagged drake scales like a pauldron, horn-plated gauntlets braced her hands, a crimson sash at her waist rattled with teeth, beads, and small charms. Scale greaves climbed her shins over loose trousers. At her hip, a dragon-headed sheath finished the fighter-legend silhouette.
She turned and walked straight for the receptionist. "I heard you've been giving the newbies garbage missions... That petty hazing ends now," she said.
"Guild policy allows—"
"Guild policy forbids bullying." She turned her head a fraction. "Do you need re-education?" The elf closed his mouth. A nearby clerk pretended to study a ledger.
Roy sat up a little at that tone. Calm, clipped, mercilessly fair. He marked it and kept quiet.
"Manager Vel," the woman added, without looking at him. "You will apologize for obstructing rank-appropriate contracts." Silence stretched. "Today."
A swallow clicked in the manager's throat. "Apologies for the… misunderstanding." He tried to paste on a smile and failed. "Welcome to Seranovia."
Approval never reached her face. She let the apology hang, then finally turned toward Roy's couch.
"Zhanna Vaerix," she said, slightly blushing. "Guildmaster of the Seranovia branch." A small nod to make it formal. "And this little menace bothering your companion is Halena."
The demon girl hopped away from Orden and started to skip in place next to Zhanna. She raised a hand like she was answering a classroom roll. "Halena Astrenos," she chirped. "Guildmaster of the Demon Empire branch." She tapped the ribbons tied to her horns as if they were medals.
Whispers spiked, then snapped into something like awe. Roy felt a dozen eyes bounce from the manga to him to the two names that just landed.
"Roy Gunn," he replied. "Uh, Captain."
"Captain." She lingered on it, voice dipping, velvet and sensual. Her hand brushed the chair, then his shoulder, warmth spilling into him. Close enough for freckles to blur into one constellation. She did not blink.
"Um, excu-" Roy began before being cut off.
"We were so rude to you, Captain Gunn," she whispered, tracing the edge of his collarbone. "Let me make it up to you… properly."
Takara went still. Eryndra's gaze cooled like a blade left in morning water.
The temperature in the lounge shifted one degree. Zhanna noticed and smiled without teeth. Eryndra stepped into her space and set her hands on her own hips, relaxed in a way that could turn into violence in a single breath.
"Enjoying yourself?" Eryndra asked.
"Gonna make me stop?" Zhanna taunted.
They stood close enough to share a breath. Roy closed the manga slowly and set it on the armrest. Halena's eyes pinged between faces, delighted.
A horn cut the moment. One blast, then two, then a rolling cry that poured from every corridor. Crystal lamps along the ceiling shifted to a hard amber. The whole lobby seemed to lean toward the sound.
Zhanna moved like a switch had flipped. "Play later," she told Eryndra, easy as a promise. Then her voice climbed just enough to carry. "All guildmembers, to the stadium. Emergency."
Halena's grin sharpened. A low growl of excitement bubbled in her throat. "So it finally came back," she said. "The dungeon."