Menu No.22 - One goal, two paths.

Boss Hugo spoke calmly, as if announcing something trivial.

“I’ll be joining the dungeon raid.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the air in the kitchen changed.

Alisa stepped forward at once, her expression hardening. “Absolutely not,” she said sharply. “That’s out of the question.”

She stood directly in front of him, arms tense at her sides. “You know better than anyone how dangerous this expedition will be—especially in your current condition. You shouldn’t even be near the battlefield.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight. Real concern. Real fear.

Boss Hugo, however, only laughed softly.

“You worry too much,” he replied. “I’ll be fine. There’s no need for concern.”

“That’s not an answer,” Alisa snapped back. “This isn’t about pride—”

“It’s about responsibility,” Hugo interrupted gently.

Then he added, almost casually, “This time, the expedition is led by Raiza von Hartmann.”

Alisa stiffened.

Boss Hugo turned slightly, giving her a meaningful look. A silent signal—one only the two of them seemed to understand.

“Besides,” he continued, lowering his voice, “you know my reason for returning to the battlefield… don’t you, Alisa?”

Her expression changed.

The anxiety in her eyes faded, replaced by something far heavier. Resolve. Acceptance.

“…I understand,” she said quietly.

Boss Hugo nodded and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “I’m leaving the guild in your care.”

Before departing, Alisa asked him to speak with her outside for a moment.

I stood there, unable to say a single word.

I didn’t know what I should say.

.

.

.

Later, I stepped outside onto the guild’s terrace.

The guild wasn’t open to the public today—only registered parties were allowed inside. I chewed on the last of my breakfast bread, staring up at the clear blue sky.

Below me, the scene was overwhelming.

Countless adventurers were making final preparations. Gear was checked, weapons sharpened. But this time, it wasn’t just independent parties.

Royal soldiers had arrived.

They stood in formation, clad in formal armor, banners fluttering softly in the breeze. Compared to the colorful, mismatched gear of the dungeon parties, their presence felt rigid… distant.

Uncomfortable.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the soldiers looked uneasy sharing the same ground as the adventurers.

And honestly?

The feeling seemed mutual.

“Yo.”

A familiar voice called out from the opposite side.

Vanguard approached, Nazeera walking beside him. Vanguard raised his fist, and we bumped hands lightly.

“How’s the food supply?” he asked.

“All secured,” I replied. “Enough to last.”

He nodded in relief. “Good.”

I hesitated, then asked, “Is it true? Oathbound is assigned to guard the medicine?”

Vanguard smiled faintly. “Not guard. Transport. We’re the ones carrying it.”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“…You feel it too, don’t you?”

“The bad aura?” I replied quietly.

“Yeah.”

I exhaled. “There’s tension. Between the royal army and the independent parties.”

Vanguard chuckled dryly. “Not wrong. Dungeon parties are considered… unqualified in formal warfare.”

I clenched my fists.

If only they’d seen Oathbound fight.

Vanguard was about to say more, but a stern voice cut through the noise.

A man in commanding armor waved sharply. “Oathbound! Move out. Prepare the supplies.”

The tone was cold. Condescending.

Vanguard sighed. “Duty calls.”

He nodded at me once before leaving with his party.

Then—

A sudden shout rang out.

“What’s with that look, huh?!”

My heart jumped.

I turned toward the sound, and instinctively knew—

This expedition hadn’t even begun yet.

And already, something was about to break.