The air outside the Archive was thick with dust and disbelief.
Elias stepped forward slowly, blinking against the glare of floodlights and flashing holo-cameras. His shirt clung to sweat, his glasses were cracked, and his hands still trembled faintly. Yet the glowing pages orbiting him drew every eye.
The crowd was silent. Even the guild elites, weapons raised, hesitated.
Lyra Duskveil, staff in hand, broke the silence first. "You… cleared it. Alone."
Elias looked at her, then at the guild banners behind her. Crimson Fangs. Spirewatch. Elysian Dawn. Names that ruled the city. He had read about all of them in dusty reports, watched their raids replayed on holo-screens. To see them now, staring at him—it felt unreal.
"I just survived," Elias said quietly. His voice was calm, steady. The Codex hovered at his shoulder, its pages faintly glowing.
Captain Roderick Hale of the Crimson Fangs stepped forward. A giant of a man, his scarred arms bulging with muscle, his battle axe strapped across his back. His voice was a growl. "Don't play coy, boy. The mana readings don't lie. An S-class dungeon boss fell. You're the only one who walked out."
Elias adjusted his glasses, saying nothing.
Roderick's eyes narrowed. "What Class are you?"
"I don't have one," Elias replied.
The crowd erupted in gasps. Journalists shoved closer, holo-cameras flashing. A man with no Class—an unranked nobody—claiming an S-class dungeon? Impossible.
"Lies," one of the Spirewatch hunters spat. "He's hiding his awakening. No one clears a dungeon without a Class."
Lyra, still watching Elias closely, spoke in a softer tone. "Then what was that…? Those pages around you."
Elias glanced at the Codex. Its orbit slowed, the glow dimming as though to blend with the night. "Just… a book."
Roderick barked a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "A book that kills bosses. Interesting." He stepped closer, looming over Elias like a mountain. "You'll join the Crimson Fangs. With power like that, we'll dominate every raid in the city. You'll want for nothing."
Elias met his gaze evenly. His voice stayed quiet, but each word carried weight. "I don't want to join."
The silence that followed was heavier than steel. Hunters shifted uneasily. Rejecting a guild leader's offer was unheard of—suicidal, even.
Roderick's grin vanished. His hand slid toward his axe. "Careful, librarian. Power without backing is a dangerous thing. Guildless hunters don't last long."
The Codex pulsed. Pages fluttered free, orbiting Elias like blades. A faint glow lit his glasses as he answered. "Then let's see who doesn't last long."
The words weren't loud, but the confidence in them made several hunters instinctively step back.
Lyra's lips curved faintly, intrigued. "So he really is alone."
---
The Politics of Power
That night, the incident at the Archive flooded every newsfeed.
HEADLINE: UNKNOWN LIBRARIAN CLEARS S-CLASS DUNGEON ALONE.
Who is Elias Crowe? The Guildless Hunter Who Shattered Records.
Guild Leaders Silent as Rumors Spread of a New Power.
Analysts debated endlessly. Some called Elias a fraud. Others whispered of hidden experiments. The common people, though—those who had always felt powerless—saw something else: hope.
If a nobody librarian could topple an S-class dungeon, maybe the world wasn't ruled only by the chosen few.
The guilds, however, were anything but hopeful.
Behind closed doors, meetings grew tense. Roderick Hale raged at his lieutenants. "If he refuses us, he's a threat. No unaligned hunter gets to hold power like that. We'll crush him before he grows further."
Spirewatch strategists spoke in hushed tones. "If his power spreads, guild influence will collapse. We need to control him—or erase him."
And in the halls of Elysian Dawn, Lyra Duskveil watched the news replay of Elias stepping from the dungeon. She leaned on her staff, violet eyes gleaming. "Interesting. A man with no guild, no Class… yet the Codex answers him. Perhaps he's not a hunter at all, but something else entirely."
---
Elias Alone
Back in his small, dim apartment, Elias sat at his desk. The Codex floated silently, its pages closed for now. The city outside buzzed with distant sirens and holo-billboards replaying his face.
His hands still shook from the battle, but his mind was sharp. He replayed every moment, every strike, every word. The guilds wanted him. The world had seen him.
"I should be afraid," he murmured.
But he wasn't.
The Codex opened, a single page glowing faintly.
> [Footnote]
"The world is written by Authors. The Guilds are merely footnotes."
Elias's lips curved into the faintest smile. He leaned back in his chair, glasses catching the glow.
For years, he had been invisible. A background extra in a world of hunters. But now—every guild, every leader, every watcher in the world had their eyes on him.
Not as a librarian. Not as a nobody.
As the Silent Archivist.
And Elias Crowe intended to write his own story, no matter who tried to edit it.