The bakery was still the same bakery as before, though it looked a bit more worn down than it used to.
But unlike usual, the bakery wasn't open today. Normally, Uncle Sam was always the first in town to rise and open shop.
Noel knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer. He knocked louder, but it was as if there was no one inside. He waited a little longer.
At last, the door creaked open, and the person who opened it was someone Noel knew: Aunt Sam. But she had lost her usual warmth.
Her face looked withered and hollow, as if she hadn't slept in days. Her clothes were torn and ragged—she would have at least patched them before.
"What do you want, knocking on my door for no reason?" Aunt Sam said irritably.
"Um…" Noel found himself at a loss for words.
"You look familiar… let me think…" Aunt Sam stood in the bakery doorway, frowning in thought as a cold wind swept through, making her shiver and sneeze.
And it was with that sneeze that she finally remembered who the boy in front of her was. It felt like it had just been yesterday, yet a whole year had already passed.
"Oh, right, you're Noel, aren't you? The boy who used to come asking for bread," Aunt Sam said with a small smile.
"I'm glad you remember me, but… can I come in first?" Noel asked, shivering in the cold.
"Of course, come in quickly! It's not safe out there, you need to be careful." Aunt Sam muttered.
Noel stepped into the bakery. It had changed from what he remembered, not in how it was decorated, but in how old and worn it felt. Cracks lined the walls, which would have never been the case before, when Uncle Sam would always keep repairs up.
Aunt Sam quickly shut the door behind him, as if she were guarding against something.
"Um, you don't need to be so cautious, do you? It's not that bad outside, I made it here just fine." Noel said, puzzled by Aunt Sam's behavior.
"You don't understand the situation in this town. Soon, members of the dark guild will be out on patrol, and if you do anything they don't like—"
"You could be beaten half to death, or worse, killed on the spot." Aunt Sam said, fear flashing in her eyes at the memories she couldn't shake off.
"Even…" Aunt Sam stopped abruptly, realizing she had said too much.
"Even what?" Noel asked calmly, though inside, he was seething. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from Aunt Sam's mouth.
"It's nothing." Aunt Sam clamped her mouth shut.
"Is it about Oliver's death?" Noel forced himself to keep his voice even, though inside, his emotions were exploding.
"You know?" Aunt Sam was shocked that Noel had learned of it.
"I went to the slums first. Someone there told me a lot, so I know." Noel fell silent.
"But you mustn't think about getting revenge on the dark guild, you hear me? They're powerful, with many mages—you wouldn't stand a chance." Aunt Sam said worriedly, afraid Noel would do something reckless.
"I just want to stay here for a while, is that alright?" Noel asked.
"Staying here is fine, but promise me you won't do anything foolish," Aunt Sam urged, repeating herself for emphasis.
"I heard the town put out a request for help. Do you know who posted it? Can you tell me?" Noel asked, knowing that whoever had posted the request would have valuable information, and information was what he needed most right now.
He might not be a mage, but as an alchemist, he could take on private jobs using his credentials—especially with the reputation of Mond's Alchemy Workshop behind him.
Even nobles had to acknowledge the workshop's standing, and the same applied within mage guilds. Not to mention, he now had his official certification badge.
"You want to see the mayor? That's not something a kid like you should be getting involved in." Aunt Sam knew where the mayor was, but she wasn't about to tell Noel.
"You'd only be throwing your life away, and I'm not going to tell you." Aunt Sam said firmly.
"Actually, I'm a mage now. And I can handle myself." Noel said resolutely.
As he spoke, a faint magic circle glowed on his hand, and a nearly invisible Wind Blade shimmered in the air.
Aunt Sam had never seen magic before, but she knew at once that this was the real thing. She couldn't believe how wondrous magic could be.
"You've become a mage? Little Noel, you've really grown up…" Aunt Sam said genuinely, her heart softening as she wondered if this child really could help.
Normally, Noel would have smiled, but today, he couldn't manage it. At best, he forced out a small, strained smile.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid. I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Alright, I'll take you to see the mayor. But don't act recklessly. The mayor has already put out a request, and the guild will send mages to help. Don't try to play hero."
"I know Oliver's death hit you hard, but it's no reason to throw your life away. Do you understand?" Aunt Sam said everything she could, though she doubted Noel would truly listen.
"Where's Uncle Sam? I haven't seen him." Noel asked.
"You know how he was the best baker in town… so the dark guild 'invited' him to cook for them. But don't worry, he'll be fine…" Aunt Sam's voice broke, tears welling up. She clearly hadn't recovered from the trauma.
Noel didn't ask further. He knew what "invited" meant. Who would willingly go cook for a dark guild?
After a long moment of thought, Aunt Sam decided. She led Noel to a hidden room, then lifted a wooden hatch in the floor.
A ladder descended into darkness, so black that they couldn't see the bottom.
Aunt Sam lit a torch, illuminating the space with flickering light, and they both climbed down into the underground passage.
"What is this place?" Noel asked.
"It's the town's tunnel network. It connects to nearly every house in town—almost every original resident has access to it."
Noel was amazed. He never knew there was such a secret here.
The tunnel stretched on and on, seemingly without end as they walked.
After more than a year of training, the walk wasn't difficult for Noel, but he was growing impatient. He wanted to meet the mayor as soon as possible.
After walking a while longer, they finally reached the tunnel's end, where a massive iron door blocked their path. The lock was rusted, indicating it hadn't been opened in a long time.
They stopped in front of the door.
"Wait here a moment, I have the key."
Aunt Sam pulled out a key, rusted and pitted with age. But the lock was so corroded that she couldn't get the key to fit, no matter how hard she tried.
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