Kaelor did not rush it.
He let the silence stretch just long enough to become deliberate.
Then—
"It seems," he said evenly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "that there was an incident at the Red River crossing."
The room cooled.
Jax did not move.
Did not blink.
Did not stiffen.
He simply lifted his drink and took a measured sip.
Kaelor continued.
"A band of highwaymen were… eliminated. Quite thoroughly. Evidence suggests they were not merely thieves." His golden eyes sharpened slightly. "Reports indicate involvement in rape, murder, and slave trading."
A faint pause.
"And someone placed a sign through them."
The Vixens remained behind Jax.
Llandra stood composed, unreadable.
Nyxian looked bored.
Zee and Bunny—less practiced in politics—were perhaps a fraction too still.
Kaelor noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He had been Guild Master for eight years.
An adventurer for twenty before that.
He could read fear.
He could read guilt.
He could read power.
His gaze returned to Jax.
"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Jax lowered his glass slowly.
"Inside of them?" he asked mildly, as if clarifying a detail.
Kaelor's lip twitched. "Inside."
Jax exhaled softly through his nose.
"Not us," he said calmly. "But banditry, rape, and slavery… dangerous professions. Sometimes people bark louder than they can bite."
A pause.
"Or sometimes," Jax added, taking another sip, "they meet someone who bites harder than they ever imagined."
The air between them tightened.
Kaelor held his gaze.
Jax held it back.
Neither blinked.
Neither smiled.
Both understood.
Kaelor knew.
Jax knew he knew.
But knowing and proving were two very different things.
"Perhaps," Kaelor said slowly, "they robbed the wrong party."
"Perhaps," Jax agreed.
Kaelor leaned back in his chair.
"There are… political ties," he added carefully. "Some of those men were loosely affiliated with the Slavers Guild."
The word hung in the air like a blade.
"That could become… inconvenient for whoever was responsible."
Jax finished his drink and set the glass down gently.
"Well," he said lightly, "it's a good thing they'd have no reason to look at us."
Kaelor's mouth twitched.
A smirk. Barely there.
A lie acknowledged without being called one.
He nodded once.
"Indeed."
The matter was closed.
Not resolved.
Not forgotten.
Closed.
Two predators recognizing each other.
Kaelor reached for the bottle.
Jax didn't ask for a refill.
He merely lifted his empty glass and glanced at it.
Kaelor understood the gesture instantly and signaled for more.
They drank again.
Slower this time.
More comfortably.
"What's next for you and your team?" Kaelor asked.
Now the tension had shifted.
Not gone.
Shifted.
Jax leaned back slightly, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.
"We just returned," he said. "Business to stabilize. Contracts to oversee. But I don't intend to sit still long."
Kaelor listened closely.
"I was considering the Earthplains," Jax continued. "Or perhaps the Twin Rivers communities."
Kaelor hummed softly.
He understood the map.
Those were regions rich in mid-tier raids and monster density. Profitable.
But not particularly challenging.
"I might have something more… interesting," Kaelor said.
Jax's attention sharpened slightly.
"Yesterday," Kaelor continued, "we received a request for an A or S-Rank party to eliminate a Frost Giant operating near Frostveil."
The name carried weight.
Frostveil.
A northern stronghold carved into ice and stone.
Cold enough to kill unprepared adventurers before monsters ever did.
"It pays well," Kaelor added. "Very well."
Jax didn't interrupt.
"There are also side quests in the region," Kaelor continued. "Medicinal herbs. Rare cooking flora that only grow in sub-zero climates."
Nyxian perked up slightly at the word cooking.
Kaelor's golden eyes gleamed.
"And," he added casually, "a new Raid Cave discovered last year. Unclaimed."
Now Jax's interest visibly sharpened.
"It hasn't been cleared," Kaelor said. "But parties have retrieved Ice Crystals. High quality. In demand."
Ice Crystals.
Essential for refrigeration units.
Rare.
Difficult to harvest.
Valuable.
Jax's mind moved quickly.
Armor resistant to temperature extremes.
Dimensional storage.
Shadow labor.
Mobility advantages.
He looked back at the Vixens.
Nyxian grinned. "You know I'm down."
Llandra nodded calmly. "I follow your lead."
Zee adjusted her glasses. "If you're going, I'm going."
Bunny crossed her arms confidently. "To the ends of the planet."
Kaelor watched that exchange carefully.
Loyalty like that wasn't bought.
It was earned.
Jax turned back.
"We'd accept," he said evenly. "If you allow us a week before departure."
Kaelor barked a quiet chuckle.
"From what I've heard," he said, "you left Crystalshire and arrived here in less than half the expected time. Most caravans would take a month to get there."
He studied Jax.
"Even if I dispatched another A-Rank party today, you'd likely arrive before them… even after waiting a week."
Jax didn't deny it.
Kaelor drained the rest of his drink and stood abruptly.
"Then I won't post the mission publicly."
The room stilled.
"It will be exclusively yours."
Nyxian's eyes lit up.
Kaelor extended his clawed hand across the desk.
"Register with Miriella," he said, nodding toward the slime receptionist waiting in the back of the room. "We'll update your status to A-Rank before you leave."
Jax rose slowly.
Instead of taking Kaelor's hand normally—
He gripped his forearm.
A warrior's clasp.
Kaelor returned it firmly.
For a brief moment, neither released.
There were things neither man would say aloud.
I know what you did at the Red River.
I know you know.
I will not interfere.
Do not embarrass me politically.
I will not.
Respect.
Understood.
Unspoken.
They released.
The Vixens followed Jax out of the office.
Miriella bounced excitedly as she prepared paperwork, barely containing herself.
Kaelor remained standing in his office doorway, watching them leave.
He did not speak.
But his mind moved.
Level One.
Impossible.
No one cleared an A-Rank Raid and decapitated twin A-Rank Grimsteeds with that kind of precision at Level One.
No one negotiated like that at Level One.
No one held eye contact like that unless they understood the cost of violence.
There was something different about that man.
Something coiled beneath the surface.
Not arrogance.
Not recklessness.
Control.
He exhaled slowly.
"That," he muttered to himself, "is a man I would rather have beside me than against me."
His gaze shifted toward the mounted trophies lining his walls.
Then to the empty space where the Grimsteed pair would hang.
"Level One," he murmured.
A faint smile touched his muzzle.
"The most dangerous number in this world."
And somewhere deep inside, Kaelor Fangmere knew—
Solmere had just aligned itself with something far greater than a promising adventurer party.
It had aligned itself with a turning point.