The hall followed his gaze.
His hand rose slowly, pointing toward the row of observers near the back.
Straight at Yoshiya.
The young adventurer froze. Omina, seated beside him, turned sharply as whispers rippled across the room. Yoshiya's hands, folded on his lap, clenched before he could stop them.
"Me?" he asked quietly, though the question was swallowed by the sudden noise of speculation.
"He's not military," one officer muttered.
"Barely ranked," said another.
"A healer, yes—but too young."
Nogare didn't respond. His eyes stayed locked on Yoshiya, steady and almost eerily calm. "We need his mana," he said at last. "And his resolve."
Omina rose halfway from her seat, voice sharp as drawn steel. "Wait—what? You're taking him where? To a suicidal mission with you? That's insane!"
Her tone cracked through the hall like a whip, scattering the thin veil of discipline the soldiers had left. A few commanders winced, others whispered, but none dared interrupt her.
Before Kouki could open his mouth, Nogare's voice cut through the air—calm, smooth, but firm enough to command silence.
"Pardon me, Guildmaster," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Your voice won't reach them. Especially this girl."
Kouki's brow furrowed, but he didn't speak. There was a glint in his eye—half irritation, half curiosity. He wanted to see what Nogare would do.
Nogare walked forward, his sandals clicking softly against the stone floor. The space between him and Omina shrank like a closing trap. He stopped just a few steps away, his expression unreadable.
"This won't be a suicidal mission for either of you," he said quietly. "Consider it... a vacation."
The room went dead still.
Even Yaguro blinked. "Vacation?" he muttered under his breath. "From what—life?"
Omina frowned, fire in her voice. "Vacation? From what kind of lunatic logic is that? You're sending us into a warzone!"
Nogare's tone didn't rise; it never needed to. "Not war. Retrieval. Zentake and I are going to Giggleburg for one purpose."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Tell them."
Zentake grinned, flipping a small throwing knife between his fingers. "Treasure," he said, almost cheerfully. "We're just going to pick up something shiny. Then we come home."
Laughter broke among a few skeptical officers, but it died just as quickly when they realized the ninja wasn't joking.
Yoshiya stood now, unable to stay silent. "And what do we get out of this?" His voice shook—not from fear, but from the weight of the moment. "You don't even know us. Why drag us into your mission?"
Nogare stepped closer, his face still a mask of serenity. He leaned in until his voice was barely a whisper against Yoshiya's ear.
"Money."
Then softer—almost like a secret carried on breath.
"Skills."
"Equipment."
And finally—"The power to control her berserk."
The words froze him in place. His eyes widened before he could stop them. He turned toward Omina instinctively, but Nogare had already straightened.
The world around them seemed to narrow into a tunnel of cold silence.
Omina looked between them, her frustration shifting into wary confusion. "What... did he say?"
Yoshiya didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was reeling.
No one outside their closest circle even knew about her berserk state. It wasn't something they'd spoken of—not to the guild, not even to allies. That skill had nearly destroyed her once. It was the one thing they kept buried.
Nogare looked directly at him now, as if reading his thoughts. "Don't ask how I know," he said quietly. "Just understand that I do. You have questions about that power—and I have the key to the answers."
He turned his gaze toward Kouki. "Guildmaster. If you allow, we'll depart after this meeting."
Kouki crossed his arms, unreadable. The man's mind was already racing with possibilities. Nogare wasn't prone to exaggeration—and if he was requesting those two, there was a reason deeper than words.
Before he could speak, Omina's voice broke the silence.
"Depart? What do you mean depart?" she shouted, stepping forward. "We haven't even agreed to anything!"
Her anger filled the hall like a living force, raw and protective. The soldiers around the room flinched under it.
Nogare didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even breathe differently.
He simply looked at her—his eyes still, emotionless, and yet somehow carrying the weight of centuries of battles fought and forgotten.
The hall went silent once more, caught between defiance and submission.
Omina's voice cracked again, softer this time. "Don't just stare at me... say something!"
Nogare tilted his head slightly. The faintest trace of a smile flickered—gone before it could be named.
But he said nothing.
And in that wordless moment, Omina felt something she couldn't explain—an instinct that what waited in Giggleburg wasn't treasure, or glory, or even survival.
It was something deeper. Something she wasn't ready to face.
The silence lingered, long and heavy, until even Kouki lowered his gaze.
Nogare's eyes never left hers.