A man strode out, his uniform worn but well-maintained compared to the others. He carried himself with the confidence of someone accustomed to command. His eyes scanned the group, narrowing when they landed on Boreas.

“Sergeant Boreas?” the man asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Boreas straightened at the recognition. “Willam. It’s been a long time.”

The man—Captain Willam, according to the insignia on his shoulder—gaped for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I can’t believe it. After all these years...” He gestured for the group to follow him. “Come on. Let’s get off the streets.”

Willam’s home was modest but clean, a sharp contrast to the dilapidated state of the town. The group settled into the sitting room, grateful for the reprieve.

“You’ve changed, Boreas,” Willam said, his gaze lingering on the golden sword at Boreas’s hip. “I can barely read your level. Two question marks, that’s all I see.”

“I’ve been busy,” Boreas replied.

Willam turned to the others. “And these are your companions?”

Mori introduced herself first, her voice polite but firm. “Mori.”

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“Neres,” the rogue said with a quick nod.

Midas inclined his head. “Midas.”

Willam’s expression shifted as he regarded them. “I can’t read your levels either. That’s... unusual.”

“We’ve had some... unique experiences,” Midas said cryptically.

Willam didn’t press further. Instead, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m glad to see you, Boreas. Dawncrest could use someone like you right now. Things have gone downhill since you left.”

Boreas frowned. “I noticed. What happened?”

Willam leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening. “The mayor. He’s a political appointee from Verena. Doesn’t care about the town, just the gold he can squeeze from it. He’s turned the guards into his personal thugs, and the people are suffering for it.”

Mori’s hands clenched into fists. “How does he get away with it?”

“He’s got muscle,” Willam explained. “His bodyguard’s level 21, and he’s got three elites, all level 20. That’s more power than a small town like this should need.”

Boreas’s eyes narrowed. “Why would a mayor need that kind of protection?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Willam said. “I don’t know who’s backing him, but I suspect it’s someone with deep pockets and even deeper connections. I’ve tried to rein him in, but most of the guards answer to him, not me.”

He leaned forward, his tone hopeful. “But you’re here now. I don’t know what brought you back, but I have to ask—can you help us?”

The room fell silent as Boreas looked at his companions. Midas met his gaze and nodded.

“We’ll help,” Boreas said firmly. “But we’ll need to know everything about the mayor and his operation.”

Willam nodded, relief flooding his face. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

The group settled in, ready to plan their next move. Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the troubled streets of Dawncrest.