Continue On, Struggler. | Chapter 12: The Guild. (Part Three of Three)

…

Weeks passed. For the most part, not much changed for Guts.

He spent the majority of it sparring with Eris, teaching/learning from Ghislaine, and inching closer to D-rank. The only real change came in the frequency he did the first thing. For whatever reason, the brat decided that it was okay to take up even more of his time. He honestly didn't mind. Not to say that he enjoyed her company anymore, but he was always willing to throw his weight around. Besides, she was more bearable with a sword in her hand than not. At the very least, it kept her from running her mouth. That being said, at this point, he had been staying in Greyrat Manor long enough to see about making another change.

"You want access to the family library?" Phillip asked, his surprise evident.

Guts nodded. He had never been briefed on his uncle's schedule—he had never really cared to ask either—so he had to catch him after breakfast.

"May I ask why? Does this have anything to do with your teaching Ghislaine to read?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Well, at least, not right now." Ghislaine had been making decent progress with her reading and writing, but she was still a ways away from reading any actual books. "I have something I want to look into, that's all."

"A certain subject?"

"Magic."

"'Magic'? Ah, right. Paul did mention that you were well-versed in it. Well, our library is far from bereft of magic textbooks, but you might end up having more success searching out in town somewhere. The Boreas Greyrats are known for many things, but never an interest in magic."

Guts hummed, nonplussed. "You mind letting me take a look? Just to make sure?"

"I don't see a reason to prevent you," Phillip said. "To be honest, I'm surprised that you thought to ask at all. It's not like you were ever forbidden from going in there in the first place."

Guts stopped right then and there, realizing his mistake. He had been so used to noble types being up their own ass about permissions that he had assumed that it extended to everything.

"Hm? Oh, my apologies. It seems as though I gave you the opposite impression." Phillip turned to face him. His uncle smiled in his response to his silence. "In the future, try not to forget. You may not be of the Boreas line, but you're still a Greyrat—that alone entitles you to a lot more than you may realize. Besides, Eris's behavior has mellowed quite a bit since you've become her sparring partner. I don't know what you did, but I think that's earned you more than a little freedom around the Manor.

Guts didn't know how to respond. For one, he didn't like the implication. At all. It reminded him of Somal and his friends, and how they would try to leverage his status as a Greyrat against him. He hated it then and he hated it now, even if it worked out in his favor this time.

Regardless, Phillip didn't wait for his response. "Apologies, Rudeus, but I have business to attend to."

The man turned and started walking away, all without ever looking back.

"Feel free to lean on me or any of the other staff if you encounter any trouble. I'll do my best to assist if possible."

Guts clicked his tongue. Despite everything going his way, he couldn't help but feel like he was to the beat of Phillip's drum. Not his own. And then, he realized that was exactly why he hated nobles so much.

There was never any winning with them.

…

Already, Guts regretted coming to the library.

Admittedly, he had limited experience with them. He'd only been in one in his past life, mostly because he didn't know how to read, but he knew how to now and he really didn't want to linger here—in the Boreas Greyrat's private library—anymore.

In general, the ability to read and write seemed more widespread in this world, but that didn't exactly mean it was common. For example, the residents of Buena Village lived as farmers. He didn't know the exact numbers, but he figured the number of literate people was small. Smaller still, if he excluded everyone in his family, but neither Paul, Lilia, nor Zenith were the studious type. More likely than not, he and Roxy were the only people in the village who cared about books to any extent. Books were expensive too and his magic tutor had always been the stingy type. So much so that she had never paid to have books delivered without reason. In short, despite being able to now, it didn't mean Guts liked reading.

The moment he stepped into the library, Guts found himself surrounded by books. More books than he had ever seen. Rows upon rows, shelves upon shelves. Dwarfing the one he had been in Midland. However, having access to this number of books led to a different problem altogether. In that, he still actually needed to find one that related to the subject he wanted, and he didn't even know if that book existed in the first place. In short, he felt like he was looking for a needle in the ocean. The more he swam, the more useless looking felt.

"You."

In any other instance, the sound of Eris's voice would've broken him. An annoyance on top of an already annoying day. He'd been living at Greyrat Manor for a little under two months now—and still, she made a habit of getting across that he wasn't welcome here. Be it through insults or her general attitude (an insult in of itself), she made it clear that, while she had stopped fighting the idea that he should exist at all, she was no fan of his.

"What're you doing?"

Guts didn't reply, leaving his answer to a sideways glare before returning his attention to the row of books in front of him. He'd been skimming through bookshelves for a while. His search had started that morning, after his talk with Phillip, but he hadn't paid much attention to the time once he got to looking. Not to imply that he became so enthralled that the time just flew by. No, it was tedious, mind-numbing, and felt like it took up the better part of an eternity. It was just that all of the windows in the library were built high up, so he forgot they existed.

Crap, he thought. A glance up at said windows told him all he needed to know. The sky's already orange.

"Answer my question," Eris said, reminding him of her presence.

"Use your eyes," Guts shot back, standing up from the squat he'd been in and moving to the next bookshelf. The third of the day, if the search hadn't completely fried his brain. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Wasting your time."

"Wrong. Try again."

Eris clicked her tongue. "…Looking through a bunch of books."

"You've got your answer then, brat. Leave me alone."

A low growl told him how well she took his dismissal, but instead of lashing out further, the girl gritted her teeth and asked, "Why?"

"I'm looking for books on a specific subject," Guts explained, wondering if he should be impressed by the restraint or annoyed by the fact it took so long for the girl to develop it. Regardless, he figured that it earned her a straight answer. "And I wanted to make sure this place didn't have any before I bought anything."

The girl stayed silent a moment, which allowed him just enough time to skim through all the titles on the bottom-most shelf. Nothing. Great. "…What's a subject?"

"What something is about."

"Oh," she said, simply. "…What're you looking for then?"

"Magic."

"'Magic'? You know magic?"

Guts drew out a hum.

"Why?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked up at her. "'Why'? What do you mean 'why'?"

"You fight with a sword. Why would you need to know magic?"

"Because it helps me fight with a sword?"

"How?"

Guts opened his mouth, to use her words against her again, but stopped himself. He had to remind himself that his views on magic weren't exactly common. Before he learned to use it, he probably would've asked the same thing. He didn't know what the girl thought magic was, but she probably thought it to be slow and cumbersome. Swordplay provided a quick and direct solution. To her, the two probably went together like oil and water. Probably for the same reasons why Paul and Zenith fought over teaching him one or the other. He was the exception here—not the rule—so he figured it wouldn't be fair to make her feel like an idiot for it. Instead, he decided to show her.

Raising his palm for the girl to see, he wordlessly pushed magic energy into it and let a Fireball form.

"Huh?!" The flame's sudden appearance startled the girl enough to make her jump back. She stared at it for a few moments, eyes wide, before leaning in to get a closer look at it. "That's magic?"

Again, Guts hummed.

"But you didn't say anything!" Eris pointed out, before literally pointing at the Fireball. "I thought you had to say a bunch of fancy words to do stuff like that."

"Normally, you do," Guts admitted, pouring more magic into the flame. It immediately doubled in size, prompting the girl's eyes to grow wide with it. He hadn't noticed it until right then, but they were closer now. Physically speaking. Being about a foot's length away from one another. "That's how I first learned how to cast magic—by saying a bunch of fancy words, I mean—but then, I met someone who figured out how to do it without saying anything."

"Your magic tutor?"

Guts shook his head. "Another kid from my village." He chuckled, remembering the fear and regret on Sylphie's face after she pelted him with Waterballs. "Apparently, she had been listening in on my lessons and figured out how to do it all on her own—to get back at me for telling her to piss off, if you'd believe it."

Eris's focus stayed fixed on the flame. However, every once in a while, he caught her red eyes drifting over to him. After a few silent moments, she stood up, pointed at the flame, and said, "Teach me."

Guts blinked. He sighed, dismissed the flame, and stood to meet her gaze. "Hell no."

"Hah?! Why not?"

"You don't even listen to me when we spar," Guts explained. "Why would I ever want to teach you magic?"

"Because I said so!"

"Not good enough," he growled, causing the girl to flinch. "Besides, it's not as simple as me telling you what to do."

"But you said that a kid was able to figure it out!"

"After she figured out how to cast it the normal way."

"Then teach me how!"

"Prove that you can listen to me," Guts challenged. The two of them were almost chest to chest now. "Reach Intermediate in either Sword God or Water God by the end of the year and I'll consider it."

For her part, the girl didn't back down at all. She just grit her teeth and said, "Fine."

…Before outright stomping out of the library.

Guts smirked. He'd been there for months now, but it felt like this was the first time the girl actually listened to him.

Maybe there's hope for the brat, after all.

…

A month passed. Spring gave way to summer, meaning there were only six more months until the end of the year.

Eris had improved. Rapidly—in that, during their spars, she'd gotten closer to landing a hit on him than ever. More importantly, she seemed much more receptive to advice he'd lob her way. Without Ghislaine having to act as a buffer. Before their talk in the library, he would've considered that a miracle. Now, it was relatively routine. He would tell her to do something and she would do it. No 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's.

Not to imply that it was all smooth sailing. Frustration would still come and go if things didn't go her way—and he was sure that she still hated his guts—but at the very least, she was listening. That's all that mattered to him.

In the meantime, he kept chipping away at F-Rank quests. Mostly whenever he had free time, which amounted to almost nothing nowadays with Eris taking up so much more of his time. Consequently, his progress toward E-Rank had slowed down to a snail's pace. Under any normal circumstance, he would've liked to be out of F-Rank within a week or two. Now, it had taken him almost two months (and he still had one last quest to do).

Guts wanted to blame Eris. Ever since she realized that he wasn't completely talking out of his ass, she had been much more demanding of his time. Literally. In that, she would come to him and demand they spar. Even outside of their scheduled times. Although, he had to admit that, of all the things currently taking up his time, she was the one of the least annoying. Even teaching Ghislaine how to read and write—while slow-going—was more bearable when compared to what was drawing his ire: finding a way back home.

He had scanned the title of every book in the Boreas Greyrat library. In doing so, he had found a few books that he thought could be related to why he ended up in this world. Specifically, he had found a book titled: An Exploratory Account of the Teleportation Labyrinth, containing information about a supposed labyrinth in the Begaritt Continent filled with traps that—once triggered—took someone from one place in the labyrinth to another. All in a flash.

Up until that point, he hadn't known a good word to describe what happened to him the night he woke up as Rudeus Greyrat. 'Death' had always been one, but in his experience, dead people usually didn't wake back up again. 'Death' had been another, mostly by the apostles and would-be apostles, but he assumed they weren't referring to a person being born in a different world entirely. Honestly, 'teleportation' only seemed slightly more applicable than not, but it was the best lead he had gotten so far. So, despite knowing if it would lead anywhere at all, he pursued it.

In the end, the book led him a little bit forward, but ultimately nowhere. It told him little about how the traps worked. Whoever had written the book understood that the traps drew their power from magic circles and had documented everything that one might run into up until the sixth stratum, but very little else. Maybe because, for whatever reason, teleportation magic itself was considered forbidden in this world—to the point of being a taboo to discuss.

Guts hadn't even known magic like that existed. Unfortunately, he very quickly realized that the library didn't have any more information on the subject and found himself at a loss on how to proceed.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Writing to Roxy felt like a decent option. She had taught him everything he knew about magic; and as a graduate of Ranoa Magic University, she might have information on the topic. At the very least, since she and Sylphie should've gotten to the university by now, she might have access to it. Then again, a request like that would probably require more justification other than 'because I want you to.'

At first, Guts thought about using the book as justification. Saying something along the lines of, 'Hey, I found this book on some sort of teleportation labyrinth in Begaritt and I was wondering if you knew anything else about the subject?' But then again, Roxy knew him. She knew he wasn't the studious type. Rather, he wasn't the kind of person to read for no reason. Much less, the kind of person who'd get so curious about a subject that he would write her a letter. And if teleportation magic was forbidden, there was no way he could use simple curiosity to justify the question.

That left him with one option: finding the information himself.

Regardless, it seemed that Guts wouldn't be lacking in things to do with his time.

…

"Congratulations!" The Guild Worker cheered, giving Guts back his identification card. "Welcome to E-Rank!"

He grimaced, taking it from her. True to her word, it had already been updated.

Name: Rudeus Greyrat.

Gender: Male.

Race: Human.

Age: 10.

Job: Swordsman.

Rank: E.

Party: None.

"From this moment on, D-Rank quests will be open to you," the woman continued, "but considering your age, I'd weigh all my options carefully before taking one. They're much more dangerous than F-Rank quests. At the very least, I'd consider joining a party."

Guts nodded, fully intending not to heed the advice. Ghislaine had advised him to do the same upon learning how close he was to ranking up. Apparently, there were advantages to being in a party that even a loner like her couldn't deny. He didn't hate the idea on its own. If he found a party with adventurers a rank higher than him, C-Rank quests would suddenly be open to him, which would allow him to face more dangerous foes. However, working with others brought its own complications and he had no desire to deal with any of them. Much less the time either.

If he was going to drag himself to the top, he would do it on his terms.

To prove that point, upon leaving the front desk, he went straight for the job board. His eyes searched for a D-Rank quest that he had seen posted a day prior. It was still there. Probably because the risk wasn't worth the standard pay for its difficulty.

It read: "Help! Lone Terminate Boar spotted roaming near city gates! Will pay a silver coin upon extermination!"

Guts reached up and ripped it off the board.

…

Roms, One of Two Wolves.

…

Roms couldn't take her eyes off the boy. Her eyes had been tracking him ever since he first walked in.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind. He was the same boy she and her sister crossed paths with the day they had been forced to save Izz.

"Leave it, sis," Rems said to her. "We agreed to leave the kid alone."

Roms leaned back in her chair and huffed. "Yeah, yeah," she said, shooting a sideways glare at her sister. "That doesn't mean I can't be mad at the lil' snitch."

The two sisters were in the Guild building, sitting in the waiting area where adventurers tended to congregate during times of leisure. Being so close to opening, the usually quiet area became a mess of activity. A beehive or hornet's nest, depending on where you were sitting. A focused listen revealed the usual stable of topics. Quests to come, adventures had, gains had, and losses accrued—none of which, were more interesting to her eye than the boy she was currently pissed off at.

"Fine, as long as you keep any dangers to the staring-sort. We were lucky to have gotten out of that fiasco as clean as we did. I don't want to have to weasel out of you stabbing a ten-year-old too."

"I wasn't going to stab the kid. …Maybe just wring him by his scrawny, little neck some."

Rems rolled her eyes.

Ignoring her sister, Roms put her eyes back on the boy.

He was standing at the front desk, speaking to the receptionist. They exchanged words. She then handed him something (probably his membership card), clapped, and cheered loudly enough for Roms to hear, "Congratulations! Welcome to E-Rank!"

The kid made it to E-Rank, huh? Roms noted. Wait, wouldn't that mean he was an F-Rank a few weeks back? Damn, guess I really can't be too mad at him then.

She pulled her eyes away from the boy, a spike of embarrassment running through her. She had always been petty. The kind to spite first and ask questions later—and while she had disliked that part of her, she liked to think she had some standards. Saved the most of her spite for those who deserved it. Hating some kid for saving his own hide fell well below that line.

"Hm? What's he doing?" Rems asked, all of a sudden.

Roms turned towards her sister, curious as to what had her attention.

She found Rems looking at the boy again. However, he had long since left the front desk and stood himself in front of the quest board. On its own, that wasn't too surprising. She and her sister had done the same after climbing out of F-Rank, eager to pounce on the first E-Rank quest they could find (F-Rank quests were that tedious). But then, she saw what quest he had set his eyes on.

"Wait, isn't that…?"

They'd seen that same notice as well when they first entered the Guild. It was a D-Rank quest, asking to kill a Terminate Boar spotted a little past the city gates.

"It is," Rems said. "You don't think he's thinking about—"

Before her sister could finish her question, the boy reached up and ripped the notice off the board.

Roms jumped up out of her seat and stomped towards the boy. "Hey, kid!" she called out to him, drawing his attention. If he remembered her, he showed no sign of it. "Are you thinking about taking that quest—the one for the Terminate Boar?"

The boy nodded.

"And you do know what a Terminate Boar is, right?"

Again, the boy nodded.

"So, you know that most of them grow to be double your size, right?"

Another nod. Roms frowned.

"And that they don't usually fight alone, right? And that's why no one's accepted it?"

He nodded a third time. At that point, she was just about ready to let the matter drop.

"So, knowing all of that, you sure you and your party are ready for something like that—"

"—I don't have a party."

"You don't have a party?!" She asked, not quite yelling but just about. A prick of regret hit her as soon as she did, but at that point, the rock was already rolling down the slope. "And you're thinking about accepting that quest? Do you have a death wish?!"

The boy didn't say anything in response. Instead, he just kept glowering up at her. Even worse, Roms didn't even know if she could call it that. He was just looking at her. Clearly upset, but not enough to tell if she was having an effect or not. And that was making her more upset.

Almost completely lost in anger, Roms took a step forward and tried to wring the kid by the neck, but an arm snaked itself over her chest and held her back.

"Leave it, Roms." Rems, of course, was the one who stopped her.

Roms glared at her sister, letting a moment pass before huffing and taking a step back. "Fine. Let the kid kill himself, like I give a shit."

Rems rolled her eyes and turned towards the boy. His face hadn't changed at all. "Look, I'm not trying to stop you or anything, but you're sure that you can take on a Terminate Boar?"

"Easily," the boy said, simply. Roms furrowed her brows in annoyance. Partially because of what he said, but mostly because of how he said it. He didn't show a lick of hesitation or arrogance. To her ear, he sounded confident. Matter-of-fact even. As if his victory was inevitable. "Get out of the way."

Again, Roms took a step forward. Again, Rems held her back.

"Why, you little…" Roms growled, struggling against the arm and pressing into her chest.

"Leave it," Rems hissed, a tinge of irritation leaking into her usual calm. "Come on, sis."

Her sister went to walk away, pulling Roms with her, but she made sure to get one last glare in before leaving.

The kid held it, refusing to falter.

What an asshole…

…

Roms wanted to stay pissed off, but at the moment, she and Rems had more important things to worry about.

The biggest and most immediate of which were the three goons that had cornered them in a narrow alleyway.

"Roms, duck!" her sister called out.

Roms did as told. A knife flew over her head and struck the closest goon in the chest. The blade dug deep enough into his leather breastplate and knocked him back a step.

"Take it!" her sister directed.

And so, Roms did.

Roms exploded up, towards her attacker. With her right hand, she grabbed the knife by its handle and wrenched it free with a stiff push kick to the stomach. It sent the bandit toppling into the other two, tripping them enough to stop their advance.

She rushed forward. Climbing over the first goon, she lunged at the closest man and planted the knife into his neck. Then, gripping the back of the first's shirt, she rolled and stood him up. A beat later—thrk!—and she felt her sister's arrow land. First, a thump. A splash of blood second.

The third goon, who had been shocked into a standstill, finally started to charge again. He raised his club into the air. In response, Roms dropped onto one knee and used the momentum to pull the first's body up and over her body.

"Rems!" she called out.

From the corner of her eyes, Roms saw her sister rushing towards her. She never broke stride. Using the first goon's body like a ramp, she launched herself up into the air.

The final thief halted his charge in response, tracking the airborne sister as she knocked an arrow and pulled it back to shoot. He held his club out, ready to defend himself.

Gotcha, idiot.

Roms threw the body off her shoulders and exploded towards the distracted thief. His eyes widened, as if only realizing his mistake right then and there.

Thrk!

With her left hand, Roms grabbed him by the wrist and held it in place. She planted her feet and, with all her might, stabbed him right under his leather chest piece. In the same instant, Rems's arrow hit him right in the throat.

More blood spilled onto Roms, mostly getting her in the face and shirt, but she left her response to a glance and frown.

There goes the rest of my evening, she lamented, pulling her knife from the goon. His, now completely lifeless, body fell to the ground with a thud. Rems landed right then and there too. Albeit, much more gracefully. Roms took a moment to further assess her clothes for damages. Maybe I can get the client to cover the cleaning expenses?

"Of course," Rems cursed, having squatted down to check the goons for valuables. "Can't even do a simple delivery quest without something going horribly wrong."

"C'mon, things could be worse," Roms offered, kicking the body nearest to her. "These losers could've been an actual challenge."

Rems didn't answer, meaning that she was mad. Specifically, at nothing in particular.

Eh. Roms shrugged. She'll get over it.

"Whelp, we don't get paid to stare at corpses," Roms said, walking over to her twin and bumping Rems with her hips. "Let's get this over and done with."

Rems huffed and stood up. "Let's."

…

They spent the rest of their quest in silence—in that, when they delivered the package to the client, Rems spent the whole time brooding. Roms just followed her lead, knowing that any sort of attempt to make light of the situation would get her nowhere. Instead, they trudged along in silence, hoping to make it back home while there was still light.

Long story short, they showed up to the client's house—which was, annoyingly enough, all the way on the outer edges of the city—gave him what he wanted, and left. Rems did all the talking, as per usual, but kept everything short and to the point.

Not that Roms minded. Less talking meant less time wasted. Rems had brooded long past the norm, but Roms figured asking about it was best saved for when they got back home. Conversations like that weren't meant to be had out in the open, after all. However, as they walked back, she stumbled across something that made the silence go away in a flash.

What in the…

It was the boy from earlier. Soaked in blood. However, given his general demeanor and the cart full of dead monster bodies trailing behind him, none of it belonged to him. Five or six Assault Dogs, and the head of a Terminate Boar.

"Shit…" Roms murmured, stopping dead in her tracks.

She wasn't alone in her gawking either. He caught everyone's attention.

"Huh…" Rems muttered, a little more reserved in her shock. "Can't believe the kid actually managed it."

"…Are we looking at the same thing, sis? I think you're underselling what we're looking at a bit."

"Nah." Her sister shrugged. "Too tired for understatement."

"Well, I'm too tired to react for the both of us. Pick up the slack, lazy ass."

Her sister stood there, slack-shouldered, for a moment. "Nah. Last I checked, he proved you wrong, not me."

Roms grumbled, thinking back to when they were in the Guild and she had gotten mad at the boy for being an idiot. She had mostly done it because she thought he was biting off more than he could chew and running into a situation that would get himself killed, but as it turned out, he hadn't. Far from it in fact.

…Honestly, that only pissed her off more.

Because if the kid could take down a Terminate Boar and its pack of Assault Dogs, there was no need for him to snitch on them in the first place. He probably would've taken all three of them down with ease if he wanted, so why tell them anything?

"Oh, c'mon, Roms…"

…And that's why she wound up storming up to him. Again.

"Hey, you," she called out, standing in his way.

The boy came to a stop. Just like last time, his face didn't change a bit.

"You kill all those monsters yourself?"

He nodded.

"All by yourself?"

Again, he nodded.

Roms felt something within her snap. She stepped forwards and tried to slug the little shit in the cheek. However, all her fist did was soar over his head. A beat later, she found her feet being taken out from under her. She landed with a thud, right on her ass.

"Tch! Why, you little—!"

She moved to get back up, but the tip of a sword stopped her. Aimed right between her eyes. Or rather, now that she got a good look at it, it was the tip of a sword's sheathe.

"This won't be sheathed next time." That was all the boy said before slinging his still-sheathed sword over his shoulder and moving on.

Rems just wolf-whistled as she came to stand next to him.

"Really showed him, sis."

Roms gritted her teeth.

"Shut up."

…

Guts.

…

"You're covered in blood," Ghislaine said.

Guts wanted to sigh. For whatever reason, after especially long days, the inhabitants of Greyrat Manor loved to meet him on its doorstep. In comparison to Eris, his swordplay tutor looked much more inviting, leaning on the wall next to the employee door with her arms crossed. His quest had drawn out onto the edge of night, leaving the two of them to speak under a sky of mostly dark.

"I took a monster hunting quest," he explained.

"What'd you kill?"

"A Terminate Boar, and its pack of Assault Dogs."

"…You hurt?"

"Not my blood."

"Good," Ghislaine said, getting up off the wall she'd been leaning on.

"Is that all?"

"Lord Sauros wanted to talk to you."

Guts blinked. The old miser wants to talk to me, huh?

"Fine. Where?"

…

Guts hadn't formed much of an opinion on Sauros.

A normal person probably would've considered that a problem, especially someone who had lived in the old man's home for almost a year now, but despite the close quarters, he and the old man rarely interacted outside of passing each other in the halls. To that end, he never found the need to think one way or another about Roa's Landlord.

Indifference, however, was a far cry from actually liking someone.

Sauros was the most powerful man in all of Fittoa and he carried himself like it. A noble in name, in blood, and in person—and, in Guts's mind, only two kinds of nobles existed. The kind with limp wrists and even limper spines, and the kind who ruled with steel fists and backs to match. There was no doubt in his mind what camp Sauros occupied.

Guts always had a begrudging respect for the type—or maybe he just found them easier to respect in comparison. They were prideful—even honorable (on occasion)—that made them easier to predict. Even then, while respect was much more akin to liking a person, it didn't mean he actually wanted to be in their presence for more than a few moments.

That's probably why Guts's feet felt heavy as he climbed the stairs. Not out of excitement or fear, just complete and utter indifference.

Why the hell would he want to talk to me at the top of a tower?

…And maybe the slightest bit of irritation.

The question only lasted for however long it took him to reach the top. In which, it was replaced by the confusion he felt in response to hearing the three-part, rhythmic noise coming from a few paces in front of him: an awkward combination of feminine mewling, masculine grunting, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

For the love of…

Guts sighed. The last thing he wanted to see tonight was that old fart having sex.

Pounding the underside of his fist three times on a nearby wall, loud enough to be heard over all the noise, he received a startled squeak in response. Clothes rustled. Eventually, a beastfolk woman came rushing down the stairs past him.

Guts recognized her. Not by name, but he'd seen her in the halls before. A woman whose brown hair led to a pair of rabbit ears, one of several beastfolk women the Greyrats "employed" at the manor. His frown deepened, starting back up the stairs. He probably should've realized the reason for those numbers sooner.

At the top, Guts found Sauros standing in front of a window. Thankfully, draped in more than just moonlight.

"Rudeus," the Landlord said, considerably more calm than Guts had ever heard him.

Guess even blowhards like him need to blow off some steam every once in a while…

"You need something, old man?" Guts asked, wanting to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

"You made me wait, boy," Sauros said, not even looking at him. The lack of all irritation on the old man's part, in spite of Guts's refusal to adhere to formalities, told him that his assumption had been a correct one. Sex did mellow him out. "Get over here. I want to show you something."

Guts rolled his eyes, but since he didn't have a decent enough reason to tell him to screw himself, he joined the old man by the window.

"Look at that," the old man said. Guts guessed in reference to the city down below. Dark draped itself into every little corner. The only light came in the form of candles, seeping out from windows. So far away that they looked like fireflies. The city itself was down far below, so even the tallest buildings looked small in comparison. Guts could barely even see the people, flicking in and out of the dark like ants. A familiar sight. Reminiscent of a memory from back in his old world. Back before the Eclipse. He didn't know if time had done it, or maybe it was the distance, but he couldn't find a bit of comfort in them now. "No, not down there, boy. Look up."

Guts shot a narrowed-eye glare at Sauros, but again, he did as he was told.

At first, he couldn't see anything. Nothing more than the usual smattering of starlight. However, the more he looked, the more he began to feel like something was missing. He realized it a beat later. His eyes shot open in shock.

Guts couldn't see the moon anywhere. He could see something else, though.

"What in the…?" Guts asked, instinctually taking a step back.

An object. Floating. Up in the sky. It wasn't a star or the moon, but it was big enough to hide the latter away in its entirety. If not for the sliver of moonlight surrounding it, illuminating its near pitch-black surface and spiraling red wings. It would've faded away into the night.

Guts didn't know what it was, but a deep dislike began to form inside of him as he stared at it. Not because of fear. The feeling was much harder to describe. It was almost as if… It was almost as if the thing—dark, faintly crimson, and shifting—was glaring at him.

"What is that?" Guts asked, after a long stretch of silence.

"I don't know," Sauros answered, his eyes never leaving it, "but I don't think it'll be a problem."

"And what makes you so sure about that?"

"Because it's easier to think of it that way."

Guts frowned at the simplicity of the answer. It felt borderline stupid, but as ominous as the floating thing was, he could see the appeal of thinking of it that way. A problem was only a problem if someone made it one. As long as it stayed in the sky, meaning as far away from him as possible, he could be content with the distance between it and him.

"Is that why you called me up here?" Guts asked. "To show me that thing?"

"Yes," Sauros said, nodding.

"Why?"

"Because it appeared a day after you first arrived."

"Oh."

Guts frowned. It seemed like the thing wasn't giving him a choice in the matter.

…

Chapter End.