Chapter 13 — Echoes of Silent Judgment

In Count Monteverde’s estate, some of the most influential nobles and politicians of Urus had gathered.

Each one... aligned with his interests.

“I can’t believe this is happening! How has no one caught that damned maniac yet?!” the Count shouted, slamming the newspaper against the table.

“Forgive me, Count, but we haven’t been able to track this individual down… There are no leads to follow. It’s like they’re a ghost,” replied a thin, middle-aged man wearing glasses.

“Oh, come on, Ricardo! Don’t give me that cheap excuse.”

“You’re the Minister of Justice! One word from you and we could flood the city with guards!”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple,” Ricardo said, visibly uneasy. “Many people knew Éclair wasn’t exactly a model citizen…”

“I’ve got the king breathing down my neck.”

“I am the law and order in Urus! Do you understand that?!” the Count roared, slamming his fist on the table.

An older woman, elegantly dressed in somber tones, watched him cautiously.

“This matter needs to be handled discreetly.”

“The king mustn’t find out that Urus’s economy is propped up by the slave trade.”

“But this… incident will directly impact public finances,” said Mónica, her tone cool and measured.

“Yes, yes, Mónica. Tell me something I don’t know,” the Count huffed, arms crossed.

“It’s true,” chimed in another man—this one rougher in appearance, bearing combat scars and a relaxed demeanor. Clearly a former adventurer.

“Roman was the best we had.”

“And now, the transport convoys have been completely wiped out.”

He spread a map over the table and marked several points in red ink.

“The attacks happened across multiple locations. Which can only mean one thing: whoever’s behind this has insider knowledge.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“But the most unsettling part,” Ricardo added, “is still this—there are no witnesses.”

One day later…

The adventurers’ guild was unusually quiet.

Where once there had been laughter, shouting, and the clatter of tankards, now there were only hushed voices and uneasy stares.

Fear had taken a seat among them.

Ada Schubert walked gracefully between the tables. Her dress was modest, yet flawless. Her presence… unmistakable.

Several adventurers greeted her with discreet nods. Others simply lowered their gaze.

Upon reaching the front counter, Asdreus gave a slight bow.

“Lady Schubert… thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I received the summons this morning,” she replied, her voice steady. “What’s this about?”

The elf glanced around, then lowered his voice.

“The higher-ups… want your opinion on the recent incidents. More bodies were found last night. Same pattern. No witnesses. No traces.”

“They believe you, as an SSS-ranked adventurer, could offer some… insight.”

“Insight, or suspicion?” she asked, never losing her composure.

Asdreus swallowed hard.

“Both, I’m afraid.”

He leaned in slightly, as if to whisper a secret.

“The nobles suspect a high-ranking adventurer… or perhaps an assassin from another nation. Yukihana, maybe…”

Ada nodded coolly.

“Very well. Let’s see what they have to say.”

With poised steps, she walked toward the office of Atilius, the guild master.

When she opened the door, she found the elf already waiting—along with six other adventurers.

“Lady Schubert, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” Atilius said with a professionalism that clashed with his usual whimsical demeanor.

“Will your squire not be joining us?”

“The invitation specified adamantite-ranked adventurers only.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant to bring him,” Ada replied.

“No worries. I had a few questions for him, seeing as he’s the son of a baron… but another time, then.”

“Please, have a seat.”

Ada took the seat beside Aseina. No one else sat down. As always, no one wanted to sit near the Yuki.

Atilius cleared his throat.

“I assume most of you have read the paper.”

“An S-ranked adventurer was found dead alongside the Secretary of Justice a few nights ago.”

“There’s a bounty out for whoever did it. One hundred thousand gold coins… or the title of viscount—now vacant since Éclair’s death.”

A young archer grinned ear to ear.

“With that reward, I wouldn’t have to work for quite a while.”

A blue-haired elf scoffed.

“A title like that comes with responsibilities. Don’t think it’s just for lounging around…”

“I’m only interested in the gold,” muttered a stout, muscular dwarf.

The rest remained silent.

“In any case,” Atilius continued, “your safety is the guild’s priority.”

“That’s why I ask you all to avoid recklessness.”

“You are Urus’s last line of defense.”

That’s when a massive demi-human with hyena-like features raised his greatsword, pointing the blade straight at Yura.

“I say it was the Yuki. Those cuts… they were clean. Fine blade work. Like hers.”

Yura met his gaze with thinly veiled contempt.

But before she could reply, Ada spoke up.

“Shame she doesn’t swing around a massive sword to make up for a lack of brains, like some people,” she said flatly, not even looking his way.

“What did you say, you vulgar woman?! Why don’t you go get drunk at some tavern with your little friends and leave the real work to men?!”

“Sorry, I don’t have time to argue with idiots.”

The demi-human lifted his blade, threatening.

But with a subtle gesture, Atilius froze him in place.

“Gaius, if you’re not going to contribute anything useful, I suggest you stay quiet.”

“Aseina is a valued member of our ranks. And she’s just as innocent as the rest of you…”

“If you have any actual proof against her, take it to the Ministry of Justice. Otherwise, don’t derail the discussion.”

Yura rose quietly and made her way toward the door.

“If you’ll excuse me… I’ve got better things to do,” she said, and exited without another word.

“Well then. Any updates will be shared accordingly. This meeting is adjourned,” Atilius announced.

One by one, the adventurers left the room.

Atilius remained alone, standing before the large window in his office.

He gazed out over the city, deep in thought.

“Seems change is coming…”

“Maybe this is what our master foresaw centuries ago.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a wand carved from sakura wood. Its surface was pale, soft to the touch… like a blossom not meant to last.

He held it between his fingers for a moment—with the reverence one gives to something that can never return.

“I wish you could see it with me, Eleine…”

“The future our master once spoke of.”

And for the first time in years, his expression softened.

Not as the guild master.

But as someone who once had loved a woman who fell protecting justice.