"So?" the receptionist Gaell was performatively bored.

"Doesn't the guild have regulations?"

"It does, but they only apply to disputes between supervised adventurers. Provisional licensors die all the time from stuff like this, so consider yourself lucky you only crossed path with trash. As I warned you before: even for F-rankers staying alive will be more of a problem than starving."

At once, the gate was blast open. A group of four stormed the Guild Hall. "There he is, lord Vosphel." declared the talkative gaunt elf from Marna Valley, pointing at Kaede.

"Ah yes, lord Vosphel, I took the liberty of detaining this person for you, and I was just about to..." lied Gaell.

"Oh? A truly impressive feat, yours was." sarcastically commented the noble. Then, addressing Kaede: "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

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A brief back and forth ensued, in which Kaede rejected any accusation of taking the defeated party's belongings.

"Let us check your bag, F-ranker." demanded Gaell as if he had any involvement in the matter. A crowd started forming around the scene.

"I'm sorry, but I wouldn't want to expose my bag's contents to everyone."

Gaell was about to move the litigation to a private room, but the noble had a different idea. Much in the same way Kaede sent the gaunt elf flying a few hours earlier, Vosphel hit Kaede at the bottom of the stomach, making him taste his partially digested earlier meal gushing from the esophagus. He had to swallow his own puke several times before the effects of the hit subsided. That being said it was an oddly painless experience, not even the gastric acids irritating his throat still sore from Siciha's punch were that uncomfortable a sensation.

"Rest easy, Caedith. Now that I'm here I won't allow anyone to harm or disrespect you in the future."