Menu no.29 - The Heroes Come Back

“How is it, Master Mitrovic? Can you modify it?”

“Hmmm…” Mitrovic rubbed his thick beard, eyes scanning the blueprint I had spread across the worktable. His fingers traced the lines slowly, like he was reading a story written in steel and screws. “From your design… yes. It should be possible. I’ll give it a try.”

“That’s a relief.”

He rolled the parchment carefully and tucked it under his arm. “Don’t expect miracles overnight. But if this works, it’ll be far more practical than what you used yesterday.”

“That’s all I’m asking for.”

With a short nod, Mitrovic left the workshop, already muttering to himself about materials and balance. I watched his broad back disappear down the corridor, feeling a strange mix of excitement and unease. If even half of my idea worked, it could change how we fought inside the dungeon.

Alisa, who had been leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, finally walked over.

“So,” she said casually, “what were you talking about with him?”

“I’m planning to make something more practical,” I replied. “Yesterday’s tools were… let’s just say we survived more by luck than preparation. I think it’s time for an upgrade.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, a faint smile forming. “That does sound like you.”

“There’s more,” I added, scratching my cheek. “But… I’ll tell you later. It’s better as a surprise.”

“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You know I hate surprises.”

“I know,” I said with a grin. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

Before she could retaliate, loud voices erupted from the back room.

“Come on! Just once won’t hurt!”

“No! Absolutely not! You’re still underage!”

I sighed. “They’re fighting again.”

From the kitchen entrance, Arumi stood with her arms flailing while Ivan stubbornly crossed his arms, his cheeks puffed in defiance.

“Lately, they’ve been arguing more often,” Alisa said.

“Well,” I shrugged, “he is at that age.”

She laughed softly. “True. And besides… when Arumi was young, she wasn’t exactly an angel either.”

“Huh?” I blinked. “Wait, does that mean Arumi used to—”

SMACK.

Pain exploded across the side of my head as Alisa slammed a serving board into me without hesitation.

“What was that for?!”

“Thinking unnecessary thoughts,” she replied calmly.

“…That’s unfair.”

“They’re back!”

A voice shouted from outside the guild.

Instantly, the air changed.

I froze for a second—then moved.

The cold brew I had prepared earlier was already waiting. I grabbed the bottles one by one, lining them neatly across the long tables. Arumi rushed to bring out freshly baked bread and soup, while other guild members set out plates and utensils with practiced efficiency.

Everyone gathered near the entrance.

Even Sister Arietta had come, her white robes fluttering slightly as she stood beside several royal medics.

I was expecting cheers.

What arrived instead… was silence.

The large guild doors opened slowly.

Adventurers stepped inside, one by one.

Their armor was scratched, some cracked. Their faces were pale, eyes hollow. A few limped. Others leaned on their companions for support. Even Hugo—always loud, always smiling—walked with his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Only Raiza and her party looked… normal.

Not triumphant. Not defeated. Just calm. Too calm.

“…It didn’t go well,” Arumi whispered.

“A large-scale expedition after fifty years of war against Lord Drachen,” someone muttered. “It was never going to be perfect.”

We guided them inside quickly.

Some of the wounded were immediately taken to the Sanctuary of Ritchoffen, where Sister Arietta and the medics began treatment without delay. The rest sat down quietly, filling the hall with the sound of metal clinking against chairs.

And then—

Nothing.

No one touched the food.

No one lifted a cup.

The guild, once loud and warm, felt unbearably still.

Until—

“WHOAAAA! This is delicious!”

The shout shattered the silence.

Party Kazuha.

Kazuha himself was already stuffing bread into his mouth, eyes sparkling. Asuna sat beside him, cheeks bulging as she ate with reckless enthusiasm. Tiara didn’t even look up, focused entirely on her plate, while Kazuha alternated between tea and coffee like his life depended on it.

The entire guild stared.

“…Are they okay?” someone whispered.

Before anyone could answer, another adventurer suddenly grabbed a bowl.

“Ah—damn it!”

He ate.

Then another.

And another.

The tension broke like glass.

Some ate while crying, tears dripping into their soup. Some chewed angrily, jaws clenched as if trying to bite back frustration. Others laughed shakily between mouthfuls, the sound bordering on hysteria.

The guild came alive again.

Alisa smiled softly as she watched the scene.

“Hehe… this brings back memories.”

“Huh?” I asked. “Memories of what?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Just… a long time ago.”

Her eyes lingered on the adventurers, filled with nostalgia and something heavier.

I noticed Raiza then.

She had hesitated at first, standing with her arms crossed, gaze distant. But eventually, she sat down and took a piece of bread.

She ate.

Slowly. Quietly. But thoroughly.

For the first time since their return, her shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, after the guild had settled, I stood behind the counter, cleaning cups.

Raiza approached.

“…The coffee,” she said. “It was good.”

“That’s a high compliment coming from you,” I replied.

She glanced at me briefly, then away. “Dungeon Drachenfall is different. Stronger. Crueler. Yesterday was a warning.”

“I figured.”

“We won’t be diving deeper for a while.”

“I know.”

She paused. “But next time… we’ll need better preparation.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s exactly what I’m working on.”

For a moment, the sounds of the guild faded—the clinking of dishes, quiet conversations, tired laughter.

Beyond these walls, Dungeon Drachenfall waited.

Twenty floors.

Six cleared.

And the dragons… were only getting started.