The guild hall went quiet the moment JP laid the Alpha's fang on the counter. Conversations faltered, mugs paused halfway to mouths, dice froze mid-roll. Dozens of eyes locked onto the oversized, gleaming trophy.
The receptionist swallowed. "...Please wait here."
Before JP could even mumble an awkward "We can explain," two armored officials in the guild's dark-blue tabards appeared. They didn't ask questions. They simply gestured.
"Follow us."
The hall buzzed with whispers as JP and Lyra were led upstairs, away from the common adventurers and into the guild's private chambers.
JP leaned closer to Lyra, muttering, "Okay, so… maybe dropping the giant fang like a party trick wasn't my brightest idea."
Lyra's sharp whisper cut him off. "Quiet. They're treating this seriously—and so should you."
The officials stopped before a heavy oak door carved with the guild's crest. One rapped twice. From inside came a low voice:
"Enter."
The chamber was dim, lit only by lanterns and a single enchanted crystal at the center of a long table. Three senior guild officers sat waiting—an older woman in chainmail, a hawk-eyed man with a ledger, and a robed mage whose staff rested against the wall.
The woman spoke first. "You were assigned a hound extermination on the southern outskirts. Routine. Yet you returned with the fang of an Alpha beast." Her gaze hardened. "Explain."
JP froze, suddenly aware of how sweaty and blood-smeared he was. "Well, funny story, actually…"
Lyra stepped forward, her voice calm, measured. "The quest area wasn't as routine as expected. The Alpha had nested there. We engaged and neutralized it."
The mage leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Neutralized? Two adventurers, both newly registered, slaying an Alpha? Do not insult us with vague answers."
JP's heart thumped. He could feel the dagger's memory whispering in the back of his mind, and for a split second he almost blurted about his inventions, his Appraisal, the resin tricks—everything.
But Lyra's hand brushed his wrist under the table. A silent warning.
He swallowed, forcing a grin. "Let's just say… we're better at improvising than most."
The hawk-eyed man tapped his ledger. "Improvisation doesn't kill an Alpha. Skill does. Or forbidden tools." His eyes cut to JP. "And rumors reach us quickly, newcomer. Inventions. Strange lights. You're already drawing attention."
The older woman silenced him with a raised hand. Her gaze drilled into JP. "We will watch you closely. But for now…" She slid a parchment forward.
Guild Summons.
Stamped with the crimson seal of the central office.
JP blinked. "Summons? For… what, exactly?"
The woman's voice was cold. "For recognition. And for answers. You will appear tomorrow at the main hall. Do not be late."
When the doors finally closed behind them, JP exhaled so hard he almost toppled over.
"Lyra," he whispered, "I think we just got promoted… or sentenced."
Lyra adjusted her bow, expression unreadable. "Both, maybe."
JP groaned. "Oh, great. My favorite kind of paperwork."