The Andreas territory basked in the lazy warmth of late afternoon sun, the kind that painted the cobblestone streets of the guild district in hues of amber. The Adventurers Guild hall, usually a bustling hive of clinking tankards, raucous laughter and the shuffle of boots on worn oak floors, had fallen into an unnatural hush over the past two months. Dust motes danced in the slanted beams of light filtering through tall, leaded windows. Miss Kate, the vice guild master, stood behind the polished reception counter alongside two junior receptionists, methodically sorting through a modest stack of parchment task sheets from the previous day. Her sharp, hazel eyes scanned each entry with practiced efficiency, requests for herb gathering, minor beast extermination, and the occasional escort mission. Nothing high-stakes, nothing that would draw the guild's veterans.
The heavy oak entrance door creaked open, admitting a gust of fresh air laced with the scent of blooming wildflowers from the nearby fields. A figure strode in with a confident, almost predatory gait. He was a man in his late twenties, with wavy brown hair that fell just past his ears and a full, impeccably groomed beard and mustache that lent him a roguish charm. Clad in supple leather armor reinforced at the shoulders and forearms, a sleek stealth sword hung at his hip, its hilt wrapped in dark cord. A C-rank adventurer through and through, capable but not yet legendary.
Miss Kate's gaze lifted immediately, recognition flashing across her features. He's here. She excused herself from the counter with a quiet word to her colleagues and moved to intercept him. They settled at the nearest wooden table, its surface scarred from years of maps being unrolled and tankards slammed down in celebration or defeat.
"Hey, River," Kate said, her tone professional but carrying a hint of warmth.
River flashed a grin, his eyes lingering on her with unabashed appreciation. "Hello, Kate. You look beautiful today truly, that uniform does you justice."
"Thank you," she replied evenly, accepting the compliment with a small nod. "I appreciate the encouragement." She leaned forward slightly, her expression shifting to business. "So, how did it go?"
River chuckled, leaning back in his chair with easy nonchalance. "The weather's nice out there. I was thinking maybe after sunset we could slip away from this shallow guildhall to a quieter tavern? Just you and me, a decent meal, some wine..."
"River!" Kate cut him off, her gaze turning serious, the playfulness vanishing like mist under morning sun.
He caught the shift instantly. Straight to business, then. River sighed theatrically, reaching into a satchel at his side. He produced a worn leather ledger, its pages dog-eared and ink-stained, and slid it across the table. "Those are the ones I took note of this week. It seems your observations were right all along. It's a one-way trip through that Sepulcher."
Kate's fingers closed around the ledger. She flipped it open briefly, her eyes darting over columns of names, dates, and terse notations, adventurers entering the dark cathedral on the eastern border, vanishing without trace or return. She closed it with a soft thud. "I see." From a pouch at her belt, she withdrew a clinking bag of coins and handed it over. "Here's your balance."
River pocketed the payment with a wink. "How about we settle in for dinner tonight? My treat."
"Thank you for such a generous offer, but I'll have to decline." Kate stood gracefully, smoothing her guild tunic. "I will inform you when you're needed again." She turned on her heel and walked back toward the reception counter, her posture straight and unyielding.
"Playing hard to get, eh?" River murmured under his breath as he rose, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, two can play at that game." He adjusted his sword belt and marched toward the exit, the door swinging shut behind him with a resonant boom.
Upstairs, in the Guild Master's office, Miss Kate rapped her knuckles firmly against the sturdy door. A deep voice answered from within: "Come in!"
She entered to find Roland, the Guild Master, standing by the tall window overlooking the bustling town square. He was a distinguished man, broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed in an embroidered tailcoat suit of deep burgundy and gold thread. His gaze remained fixed on the world outside, hands clasped behind his back.
"You seem active as usual, Kate. What is it this time?" Roland asked without turning, though his tone held genuine interest.
Kate approached his desk, her boots whispering against the thick rug. "Remember when I mentioned the adventurers seeming fewer and more scattered in the guild hall these past two months? I initially thought they might be migrating to other branches because our task board lacked any S-rank quests."
"Yes?" Roland offered a slight nod, finally turning to face her.
"Well, it seems that wasn't the core issue. After re-evaluating, the second possibility I raised appears correct." She placed the ledger squarely on his desk.
Roland moved to the desk with measured steps, picking up the ledger and opening it. His brow furrowed as he scanned the pages. "What am I looking at here?"
"Those are the names and a few others who've attempted the dungeon on the eastern side of the Andreas territory, the Dark Cathedral." Kate explained, her voice steady. "That dungeon has been the reason all along."
Roland glanced up sharply. "How did you get this? You aren't stalking them, are you?"
"Of course not. I don't have time for that," Kate replied with a faint, wry smile. "I tasked River with monitoring anyone entering the old cathedral. People walk in... and they don't come out. Adventurers keep trying despite the C-rank warnings. It's drawing them like moths to a flame."
"You could say they underestimated it because it's a trap dungeon," Roland muttered, still poring over the ledger, his finger tracing entries.
"People from other branches are flocking here specifically for it," Kate continued, urgency creeping into her tone. "Rumors are spreading like wildfire. Our local numbers are dwindling by the day. Families are asking questions, we can't keep ignoring this."
Roland dropped the ledger onto the desk with a sigh, sinking into his high-backed chair. He rubbed his eyes wearily, the weight of leadership etching deeper lines into his face. He seats down to think, "It seems we have to raise the stakes. That dungeon remains a mystery, too dangerous to leave unchecked. It's far too early for D- and C-rankers to throw their lives away when brighter futures await them." He paused, hand resting heavily on the ledger. "I'd love to delve in myself, but that wouldn't be efficient."
Another beat of silence filled the sunlit office. Roland straightened. "Alright, Miss Kate. We're raising the stakes. That dungeon is too perilous. We restrain the lower ranks and let the professionals lead." He retrieved a formal document from a drawer, a detailed map and decree regarding the dark cathedral and stamped it with the guild's official seal, the ink pressing firmly into the parchment. "Effective immediately, this dungeon is reclassified as an A-rank threat. From this moment forth, it is strictly off-limits to anyone below that tier."
Miss Kate nodded solemnly, stepping forward to accept the stamped document. "Understood, Sir. I will have this official decree posted on the guild board immediately. I'll personally ensure the rookies stay away." With that, she turned and exited the office, the door clicking shut softly behind her.
Simultaneously, at the eastern border of the Andreas territory, where forests gave way to jagged hills and the air grew thick with an unnatural chill, stood the Dark Cathedral.
Before its massive, iron-bound doors stood two young adventurers, their postures a mix of excitement and bravado. The male, perhaps nineteen, was dressed in light combat gear, leather jerkin over a chainmail shirt, bracers strapped tight, and sturdy boots caked in trail dust. A long sword rested easily in his grip, its blade polished to a gleam from recent sharpening and a portable arm shield. His companion, a petite young woman no older than seventeen, wore a vibrant red robe embroidered with simple protective runes. She clutched a slender magic staff topped with a glowing crystal that pulsed faintly with inner fire.
"Are you sure about this, Ewan?" the girl asked, her voice a nervous whisper as she glanced up at the imposing structure. Her name was Lira, a fledgling mage fresh from the academy outskirts. "The guild said it's C-rank, but....I think there's more to it. Haven't you heard of the rumours?"
Ewan flashed a confident grin, hefting his sword. "Come on, Lira. We're just taking a look inside. Besides, there's no monster in it. Just trap doors, we'll be in and out before sunset."