The meeting room was suffocating with tension.
A large oak table stretched down the middle, surrounded by grim faces.
The flickering light of the chandelier above cast long shadows, emphasizing the lines of worry etched into every hunter’s expression.
At the center of the storm stood Scarlet, her fiery red hair practically blazing as she slammed her hands on the table.
“You knew the prisons were going to be attacked, didn’t you?!” she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
Across from her, Cain remained seated, his posture relaxed but his gaze cold.
He met her fiery glare with an unnerving calmness.
“Yes,” he said simply, as if discussing the weather.
“I had already guessed.”
Scarlet’s eyes widened in fury, her fists trembling as she leaned forward.
“And yet, you didn’t inform us? Why?! Do you have any idea how many lives could have been saved?!”
Cain leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Because if I had told you, you wouldn’t have agreed to the plan. Isn’t that right?”
Her voice cracked with anger as she stood up from her seat, slamming the table once more.
“Of course not! How could I ever agree to sacrificing innocent lives? What kind of monster are you?!”
Cain stood as well, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the table.
His green eyes gleamed coldly, like frozen shards of glass.
“Stop being so emotional, Scarlet. This is war. If we want to catch the Demonic Guild, we need to be ready to sacrifice someone. We don’t have the luxury of your idealism.”
Scarlet’s breathing grew heavier, her voice trembling with rage.
“Don’t talk nonsense! You’re nothing but a coward—someone who lets people die even though you have the power to save them. You—”
“Enough!!”
A commanding voice echoed through the room, cutting through the heated argument like a blade.
All eyes turned toward Havard, the Guildmaster of Lionheart.
His imposing figure, clad in a hunter’s armor worn from countless battles, radiated authority.
His white hair and beard spoke of experience, and his piercing blue eyes glared at both Scarlet and Cain with a quiet but undeniable force.
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Scarlet froze mid-sentence, and even Cain turned his head slightly, his sharp demeanor softening just a fraction.
“Scarlet, calm down,” Havard said, his voice firm but not unkind.
“And Cain—enough with your provocations. We’re here to discuss strategy, not to tear each other apart.”
The weight of Havard’s words settled over the room.
Scarlet hesitated before sitting back down, her fists still clenched but her gaze cast downward.
She always respected her Guildmaster’s authority, even in the heat of her emotions.
Cain, after a moment’s pause, also returned to his seat, though his posture remained rigid.
While he didn’t outwardly show it, his respect for Havard was evident in the way he refrained from any further comment.
Havard sighed heavily, his weathered hand brushing through his white hair as he spoke, “I was away in the dungeon for a few days, and everything falls into chaos.”
His tone carried both annoyance and weariness as he clicked his tongue.
It was a fair observation—Havard’s focus had always been on clearing dungeons.
The Guildmaster of Lionheart, known as the strongest hunter alive, spent most of his time battling monstrous entities and acquiring rare resources.
Delegating administrative responsibilities to his Vice Guildmaster, Scarlet, had been a necessity.
Yet now, the cracks in the system were becoming evident.
Scarlet’s face tensed at his words, her fists still clenched from the earlier confrontation with Cain.
She glanced at Cain but refrained from speaking.
Havard’s piercing blue eyes shifted to Cain, who sat relaxed, as if the meeting’s tension had no effect on him.
“Cain,” Havard said, his voice firm.
“Since you made such a controversial decision, I assume you must have gained something. Tell us.”
Cain leaned forward, intertwining his fingers, his green eyes narrowing slightly.
“We’ve located seven Demonic Guild hideouts,” he stated.
His tone was calm, almost indifferent, as though he were presenting routine intelligence.
“Not only that, but we’ve determined most of their golems are nearly as strong as B-rank hunters.”
The room fell silent.
The weight of his words hung in the air like a storm cloud.
Everyone in the room knew what B-rank hunters were capable of—seasoned fighters who could turn the tide of most battles.
But golems?
They had no limitations, no fear, no hesitation.
The idea of facing such an army was daunting.
Havard crossed his arms, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the hilt of his greatsword.
His face betrayed no emotion, but his mind worked furiously, calculating the best course of action.
After a long moment, he spoke.
“Fine,” he said with finality.
“I’ll take on four of the hideouts myself. The rest of you will handle the remaining three.”
Gasps rippled through the room, and Scarlet’s head snapped up in alarm.
“Guildmaster, are you sure? That’s far too dangerous, even for you!”
Havard gave her a faint smile, one tinged with reassurance but also weariness.
“I’ve faced worse, Scarlet. These golems might be strong, but they’re predictable. I can handle them.”
His voice then turned sharp, leaving no room for argument.
“As for the rest, work together. Don’t get reckless. Understood?”
Everyone nodded, their expressions a mix of awe and unease.
Havard’s strength was legendary, but even legends had their limits.
---
As the meeting adjourned, the room’s tension lingered like an invisible weight pressing on everyone’s shoulders.
Cain, as usual, seemed unaffected.
He rose from his seat and turned to leave, his coat sweeping behind him as he moved toward the door.
“Cain,” Scarlet called out, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.
He stopped, his silhouette framed by the dim light streaming through the doorway.
He turned his head slightly, his green eyes glinting in the shadows.
“What is it?”
Scarlet’s anger had subsided, but frustration and concern still lingered in her gaze.
“One day,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, “your sacrifices will cost more than you’re prepared to pay. Just… remember that.”
Cain studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable.
Then, with a faint smirk that didn’t reach his eyes, he replied, “If it helps us win… it’s worth it.”
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until he disappeared from view.
Scarlet remained where she was, staring at the empty doorway.
Her fists clenched once more, but this time, it wasn’t anger fueling her. It was unease.
From his place near the table, Havard watched Scarlet, his expression thoughtful but grim.
As the door swung shut behind Cain, Havard muttered under his breath, “It seems he still hasn’t gotten over that incident.”
Scarlet’s head turned sharply toward him, her brows furrowing.
“What incident?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
Havard’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of memories pressing down on him.
He didn’t respond immediately, his mind lost in the past.
He could see it clearly—that fateful day, the moment that had shattered Cain and transformed him into the man he was today.
The chaos. The screams. The blood.
Cain had been different back then—idealistic, driven by a fierce desire to protect everyone he could.
But that day… the day the Black Serpent Guildmaster, Cain’s father, fell in a catastrophic betrayal… it changed him.
Havard’s gaze drifted to the door where Cain had exited.
His expression hardened, his voice low and full of regret.
“He’s been carrying that burden ever since. I just hope it doesn’t consume him entirely.”
Scarlet remained silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.
She didn’t know the full story, but Havard’s words painted enough of a picture.
In that moment, she resolved to learn the truth.
Perhaps, she thought, if she understood what had shaped Cain into the man he was, she could find a way to reach him—before it was too late.