Chapter 154: A Quiet Sunday
Sunday.
Already her favourite day of the week.
No Academy. No scheduled lectures. No instructors asking philosophical questions disguised as coursework. No expectation of conversation.
Most importantly...
No communal breakfast.
Yesterday had produced entirely too many conversations.
Everyone wanted to discuss the sword.
She still considered that statistically disproportionate.
The sword had never been the difficult part.
Emberbound Artificer was.
She understood why the Guild and Academy kept asking questions.
They possessed only the outcome.
She possessed the process.
As far as current evidence indicated... only she possessed that Class.
Which left her with the same problem as everyone else.
She still did not understand it.
She was already evaluating whether yesterday's preparation would matter tomorrow.
Could it sustain what came next?
Questions would consume time.
She possessed insufficient time and insufficient information to answer them.
Gathering additional data therefore ranked higher.
She had solved the scheduling conflict the same way she solved most avoidable inefficiencies.
Wake up before everyone else.
It proved surprisingly effective.
Morning mist still lingered beneath Hearthwood's suspended walkways as Seraphina stepped quietly through the sleeping city.
A few lanterns remained lit.
Shopkeepers had only just begun raising shutters.
Perfect.
Minimal population density.
Minimal probability of conversation.
The bakery already smelled unfairly competent.
She paused.
Breakfast first. Voluntary hunger remained an objectively poor optimisation strategy.
The elderly vendor smiled as she approached.
"Morning, little miss. You're up early."
Seraphina nodded.
"Breakfast, please."
The vendor wrapped two warm pastries before handing them across.
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Seraphina accepted them.
"...And another."
The woman blinked.
"For later?"
Seraphina considered the question.
"...Statistically."
The answer appeared sufficient.
She added another parcel.
"And one lunch set."
This time the vendor didn't even ask.
Perhaps Hearthwood simply accepted unusual people more quickly than expected.
Coins exchanged hands.
Breakfast disappeared into her Adventurer's Ring. Lunch joined it a moment later.
Portable storage remained one of reality's better design decisions.
Seraphina possessed an unfortunate tendency toward poor decisions whenever deprived of food.
Present Seraphina preferred preventive maintenance.
The Adventurer Guild was already awake.
Not busy.
Merely...
operational.
A handful of adventurers lingered before the contract board, comparing notices over mugs of something considerably stronger than tea.
Boots crossed polished timber. Chairs scraped occasionally. Somewhere deeper within, laughter suggested a story had improved with each retelling.
Comfortably ordinary.
Seraphina approved.
She stepped inside.
A few heads turned.
Recognition occurred almost immediately.
Unfortunate.
She continued toward the contract board.
Escort commissions. Road patrols. Herb gathering. Routine culling.
Typical beginner contracts.
Her eyes moved steadily from notice to notice, quietly discarding each one.
Too close.
Too inefficient.
Administrative.
Sprigroot Fringe.
Routine monster culling.
Predictable.
Ideal for observation.
Acceptable.
She reached for the notice.
Then paused.
She felt him before she saw him.
Not because he moved.
Because something in the room possessed unusual weight.
Dense. Settled. Dangerous in the same way mountains were dangerous.
Simply... there.
Her gaze shifted.
The Guildmaster stood near one of the timber pillars, broad shoulders relaxed, watching the hall with the ease of someone who had spent decades doing exactly that.
His presence reminded her, faintly, of High Elder Morrowen Vir.
Not similar.
Comparable.
Neither seemed aware they occupied more space than their bodies physically allowed.
Or perhaps they were. They simply no longer considered it worth mentioning.
His eyes met hers.
"Early."
"So are you."
The corners of his mouth lifted.
"Ayah."
Seraphina removed the parchment from the board and carried it to the counter.
Sprigroot Fringe. Routine culling. Payment by confirmed monster cores.
Efficient.
The clerk accepted it automatically. Then he read the destination.
His hand paused.
"Sprigroot Fringe?"
He looked toward the Guildmaster.
The Guildmaster glanced at the parchment.
"The Fringe?"
"Yes."
The Guildmaster stilled.
His eyes rested on the contract for a moment before returning to her.
"Haven't seen many first-years volunteer for that route."
"It aligns with today's objective."
Silence lingered briefly.
"Know how quickly the Fringe turns on the careless?"
"Yes."
"Know when to leave?"
"Yes."
He watched her another moment.
Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled.
"Ayah."
"Fair enough."
He gave the clerk a small nod.
Only then did the clerk stamp the commission and slide it back across the counter.
"Mind the Hollow-Stags. They've been restless these past few days."
"Understood."
"And the Shard Serpents?"
"They usually arrive after you've started paying attention to something else."
"They're consistent."
He laughed again.
"Aye. They are."
Seraphina accepted the commission and inclined her head politely.
"Guildmaster."
"Travel safely."
"I intend to."
She turned and left the hall.
Behind her, the quiet pressure of the Guildmaster's presence settled once more into the Guild itself, like a mountain returning to the horizon after one stopped looking at it.
Objectively speaking, the morning continued within acceptable parameters.
The Artisan Quarter had answered one question. The forest had not.
The sword existed. Whether it would prove sufficient remained uncertain.
The Echo-Stone remained the larger problem.
Preparation had never been the objective.
Verification was.
Sprigroot Fringe represented the highest-value observation point. Assuming reality had preserved the same failure architecture.
Monster cores were merely an economically convenient side effect.
She left Hearthwood through the North Gate shortly afterward.
The Rangers offered polite greetings.
She returned polite nods.
No one attempted conversation.
Excellent.
Beyond the walls, the Elderwood opened gradually into denser forest.
Sunlight filtered between immense branches exactly as she remembered.
Or...
Almost exactly.
She had walked these paths hundreds of times before.
Just...
Never in this world.
In another world.
On another screen.
Sprigroot Fringe.
One of her favourite farming locations in Aeterra Online.
Dense forest. Reliable monster routes. Excellent hide drops. Tier Six and Tier Seven materials for those who knew where to search.
She had spent hundreds of hours here.
Just... never in reality.
Another five hundred metres.
The first encounter should occur naturally.
Assuming reality still respected the same territorial logic.