Menu no.23 - Still, one goal.

The expedition hadn’t even begun, yet trouble had already found its way to the front of the guild hall.

A sudden commotion rippled through the crowd—raised voices, sharp words, and the unmistakable tension of anger about to boil over. I stepped forward instinctively, pushing past shoulders and armor until I saw the source of the noise.

Two men stood chest to chest, foreheads nearly touching.

One was an independent adventurer—his gear worn but well-maintained, the kind that spoke of countless dungeon runs. The other wore the uniform of the royal army, his insignia marking him as a low-ranking soldier. Both were red-faced, jaws clenched, eyes blazing.

They were truly fighting. Not with fists yet—but with words sharp enough to cut.

Around them, the air split cleanly into two opposing sides.

Independent parties gathered behind the adventurer, hands resting near sword hilts and spear shafts. Across from them, royal soldiers stood tense, shields angled slightly forward, fingers tightening around their weapons.

There was no harmony here. No camaraderie.

Only suspicion.

Only pride.

Steel scraped softly as someone adjusted their grip. Another stepped half a pace forward. The tension thickened until it felt like the slightest spark could ignite everything.

Then—

“LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!”

The voice cut through the chaos like thunder.

Raiza arrived at the center of the confrontation, her steps fast and decisive. Joan, Lysette, and Rowan followed close behind her, forming a quiet but unyielding presence at her back.

Raiza didn’t shout again.

She didn’t need to.

Her gaze alone was enough.

The two men arguing fell silent. The low-ranking soldier snapped into attention and saluted reflexively, as if his body recognized authority before his mind did. The independent adventurer stiffened, unable to move, his anger trapped somewhere behind his clenched teeth.

Raiza separated them with words alone.

No threats. No force.

Just command.

She turned first to the soldier. “Return to the capital. Immediately.”

The man’s eyes widened—but he nodded. “Yes, ma’am!” Without argument, he turned and marched away, his steps rigid.

Then Raiza faced the adventurer.

“You,” she said calmly. “You are removed from this expedition.”

The words hit like a hammer.

Murmurs spread among the parties. The man’s mouth opened, ready to protest—but Raiza raised a single hand.

“The leader of your party,” she continued, “will speak with me after the expedition ends.”

That was final.

No one dared to challenge it.

Raiza’s presence was overwhelming. Her authority wasn’t enforced by rank alone—it was something deeper. Something earned.

She climbed onto the horse-drawn carriage with a single fluid motion, standing tall so everyone could see her.

Then she spoke.

“Royal soldiers. Freelancers. Independent parties.”

Her voice carried across the square, steady and clear.

“It does not matter who you are, where you come from, or who you serve.”

She paused, letting her words sink in.

“I ask only this: bury your ego. Bury your pride.”

The wind stirred her cloak gently.

“We cannot defeat the Demon King if we are divided. Even I could not defeat him alone.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

“So raise your weapons,” she declared, her voice firm, “not against the people standing before you—”

Her eyes swept across both sides.

“But against the Demon King.”

Silence followed.

Heavy. Deep.

Then—slowly—the tension began to fade. Hands loosened from sword hilts. Shields lowered. People exhaled, as if only now realizing how tightly they’d been holding their breath.

Raiza’s words had reached them.

Beside me, Alisa stood quietly, holding a cup of tea. She watched the scene with a thoughtful expression.

“She really knows how to rally people,” she said softly. “How to unite them.”

“She is good,” she added in English, almost unconsciously.

“Yeah,” I replied. “You’re right.”

I took a sip of my drink, then hesitated. “Alisa… why did Boss Hugo insist on joining this expedition?”

Her gaze darkened, drifting toward the carriage where Hugo stood speaking with officers.

“…He was a soldier once,” she said. “A long time ago. He fought in the campaign to defeat Lord Drachen.”

I listened quietly.

“During that war, one of his closest friends was killed. Slain by one of Drachen’s lieutenants.”

My grip tightened around the cup.

“Lord Drachen fell,” Alisa continued, “but not all of his subordinates were destroyed. Some escaped. Their whereabouts unknown.”

The pieces clicked together in my mind.

“So…” I said slowly. “Boss Hugo joined this expedition to find the demon who killed his friend?”

Alisa nodded.

“Yes.”

We drank in silence, watching as the last traces of hostility faded from the gathered forces. Independent adventurers and royal soldiers now stood side by side—not friendly, perhaps, but no longer on the brink of violence.

Above us, the sky remained impossibly blue.

And beneath that calm surface, the expedition finally prepared to move.

Not as fractured groups—

But as one force, marching toward the darkness together.