The great hall of the Reflynne Guild was rarely quiet, but today it carried a strange, brittle hush. The kind of silence that wasn't empty—just tense. Lanterns flickered over tables where adventurers lingered with half-finished meals, ears tilted for rumor, not conversation.
Kouki Nozomi strode in with a folded report in hand, his expression sharp enough to cut the air in two. Kaisei Aoi and several officers fell into step behind him. The atmosphere shifted the moment he stepped onto the central platform—every whisper snapped shut.
He unfolded the parchment slowly, letting the weight of it settle over the room.
"Korvath has confirmed," he announced. "The scouting missions for Bustleburg and Eldoria remain unclaimed."
A low ripple of discomfort passed through the hall.
Kouki continued, voice level but edged with impatience. "These recon assignments are not luxuries. They are necessities. If Valeria is preparing another Frostholm, we must know—before we feel the cold in our bones."
Several adventurers exchanged uneasy looks. The word Frostholm sat in every mind like frost on glass.
Someone near the back muttered, "No one wants to die for pocket change."
Another answered, "Pocket change? No pay is worth freezing to death."
Kouki heard all of it. He used their fear as fuel for the next words.
"From this moment," he declared, "Hazard Pay Incentives are authorized for all high-risk scouting missions."
That, at least, made the hall stir. Heads lifted. Eyes sharpened.
He continued, "In addition to increased compensation, any adventurer volunteering for Bustleburg or Eldoria reconnaissance will receive Guild Rank Acceleration upon successful return."
A few jaws dropped; no one had expected that. Promotion in Reflynne wasn't bought—it was earned through sweat, scars, and sleepless nights. Kouki offering it now was proof enough that the stakes were rising.
He lowered the parchment.
"We need scouts who can move fast, observe clearly, and survive what others cannot. If Valeria is hiding, plotting, or preparing… we cannot stay blind."
The whispers resumed—louder, more conflicted.
"Rank acceleration… that's insane."
"Insane enough to be tempting."
"Imagine skipping a whole tier…"
"Imagine getting frozen like those poor people in Frostholm."
Kaisei stepped forward, adding quietly, "The guild is not sending you to die. You will be equipped, supported, and monitored. But someone must step forward."
It was the someone that hung in the air. No one wanted to be first.
At the quest board, the pages fluttered slightly in a draft. Two fresh sheets—Bustleburg Recon and Eldoria Recon—sat untouched. Their signature lines were stark and lonely beneath the printed objectives.
Minutes passed.
Finally, a man in worn leather armor stepped toward the board. His movements were slow, but deliberate. He read the mission twice, set his jaw, and signed.
The scratching of quill on parchment echoed through the hall.
Another adventurer—a woman with a traveling mage's mantle—sighed heavily, muttered something about "not letting children do the brave things," and added her name.
A third approached soon after. Then a fourth.
It wasn't a flood. It wasn't even a stream. But it was enough to break the dam of hesitation.
Kouki didn't smile. He simply gave a curt nod and turned to the quartermasters. "Prepare emergency caravans. Supplies, medical kits, mana stabilizers, winter gear. Send runners to coordinate travel routes with Korvath."
Quartermasters scattered immediately.
The guild hall began to move again—still anxious, still cautious, but awakened. People talked not just about fear now, but possibility. The risk of dying had been set beside the risk of becoming someone greater.
As the signatures accumulated, Kouki folded his arms, eyes narrowing with cold resolve.
Reflynne wouldn't wait for winter to come for them.
They would move first.