The Regressed SSS-Rank Water Mage Wants To Live a Calm Life-Chapter 46: The Vice Guildmaster?

The days after Maxwell rejected the Emperor’s proposal passed by like a gentle summer breeze.

Maxwell spent his days lazing around with Eithan and Vin. Going to auctions for the fun of it, being dragged by Eithan to night parades in the streets.

Yup, they did a lot of things during the past two weeks. And, much to Maxwell’s satisfaction, none of those things involved commissions or tasks at the mercenary guild.

In fact, Maxwell couldn’t remember the last time he crossed the guild’s entrance and walked into the lobby.

That was why he stood there, at the courtyard of the guild building, with the morning breeze blowing against his face and sunlight pouring down on him, hands in pockets as he tried his best to regulate his breathing.

He had yet to set foot into the lobby, but even at the courtyard, where mercenaries were scattered here and there, engaged in various activities like sharpening their weapons, polishing their armor and other brutish stuff, Maxwell could still feel eyes on him.

But unlike three weeks ago, when they all stared at him in disdain, their gazes were different now. And somehow, that bothered Maxwell even more.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he quickly made his way into the lobby, afraid that if he stood in the courtyard for too long, someone might make their move to request a spar.

But alas, the lobby wasn’t any different.

In fact—

Maxwell frowned, scrunching his nose. He’d almost forgotten the smell. Little wonder he wasn’t exactly fond of this place.

—It was worse, brimming with hundreds of mercenaries, walking here and there. A vibrant, bustling hall filled with endless murmurs and chattering.

Max sighed. Of course, it was like this. He came on a weekday, after all.

Nevertheless, he steeled himself, donning a hood over his forehead. It had been part of his plan today, because after the relentless begging of Gislow via Vin, an executive, Maxwell finally decided to take on a commission request. His last commission request.

And so, he dressed in an outfit that hid and concealed all his bodily features. A brown long-sleeve shirt, black trousers, and a black hood to hide his striking blue hair.

Now he hoped that word about his blue eyes hadn’t traveled around, else someone might recognize his eyes.

As he walked through the halls, hoping he wouldn’t get recognized, a buzzing sound echoed in his ears. One that only he could hear.

Before long, an ethereal, faint blue thread slithered out of his chest, snaking through the air as Maxwell walked.

In the next moment, the blue thread thickened and widened, until, finally, tiny blue limbs stretched out, complete with flapping blue wings behind its back.

Frilo was awake. It had grown noticeably thicker. More agile, too. And more defined. Previously, before its cyclical slumber, it appeared like a projection made from blue light. Now, it looked like a tiny blue human with unusually long ears... and wings.

Sighting Maxwell, Frilo beamed excitedly, making its way to Max’s head and flying around it.

’Shh!’ Maxwell exclaimed through his soul-link, ’Not now, Frilo! I’m trying to be covert here.’

Frilo then paused, wings flapping as it hovered in the air, staring at Maxwell with a confused expression, the brows of its tiny blue forehead furrowing as it tilted its head.

A flute-like sound echoed.

Maxwell chuckled.

’Yeah, yeah. Eithan and Vin are busy. You won’t be seeing them today. Maybe later in the evening.’

Frilo had awakened from its cyclical slumber about two days after Maxwell rejected Gelru’s offer. When it woke up, it sucked in the pure mana in the atmosphere, drawing it like a whirlpool. The whole of Ludia felt Frilo’s awakening.

And, as chance had it, Eithan and Vin were present at Maxwell’s house that morning. They witnessed the magnificent sight of Frilo’s form evolving. The mana it took in was comparable to a 9th-circle’s. And now, because of their soul-link, Maxwell had strength compared to a 9th-circle mage.

Frilo then buzzed around Maxwell as the young man made his way toward the receptionist’s desk.

Currently, Frilo was invisible to anyone but Maxwell. This made Frilo feel a bit sad; it wanted to be seen and probably play pranks on the people around here.

But Maxwell knew better than to reveal the existence of a grandmaster spirit so casually.

He remembered when Eithan saw Frilo for the first time. The young man’s usually cheerful demeanor broke instantly, and he almost ran away in fright. But Maxwell calmed him.

Still, Frilo, ever the mischievous, did all it could to make Eithan flinch and yelp in fright. Vin only grinned at the sight; he had experienced it himself.

And, just like with Vin, Eithan and Frilo eventually bonded. And Eithan accepted his fate as Frilo’s second headrest.

"Good day, sir," The receptionist greeted as Maxwell reached her desk. "How can I help you today?"

Maxwell looked up, his gaze resting on the face of the young lady. Then he bowed his head a little, an effective greeting.

As the young lady glanced at Maxwell’s blue eyes, her dark eyes widened subtly, but she calmed herself, clearing her throat.

"Good day," Maxwell began, "I want to take a look at my commission request tab. To see what commission I might take."

The lady nodded courtly.

"Um, Sir Maxwell..."

Maxwell raised a brow. She’d noticed him and called him by his name.

’Damnit. Must be the damn blue eyes. I knew it.’

"...The Vice-Guildmaster specifically instructed all receptionists to direct you to his office whenever you show up in the guild."

He blinked.

’Huh?’

"The Vice-Guildmaster? Not Gislow?"

The receptionist nodded.

"Yes, the vice-guildmaster. The Guildmaster has been... unwell lately. He hasn’t been able to run the guild properly and is currently recovering, so the vice guildmaster is covering for him."

At that moment, Maxwell’s raised brows relaxed. And he closed his eyes, a bitter smile on his lips as Frilo made its way to his head.

’So it’s getting to that time, huh?’

Gislow’s end was incoming. Maxwell remembered, during his past life, his first interaction with Gislow — begging him to raise his rank — had been his last. And shortly after he failed the wyvern task, Gislow...

But based on what Max heard back then, the man died a peaceful death, surrounded by his family. He died of old age.

’About a week or so from now...’

Maxwell smiled at the receptionist.

"Thank you for passing the information. I’ll be heading to the vice guildmaster’s office now."

The receptionist bowed.

But before Maxwell left, he reached a hand into his pocket, pulling out a single gold coin. He dropped it on the desk, and smiled at the receptionist, waving a hand.

The lady appeared momentarily stunned, but she soon gathered her composure, took the gold coin, and bowed her head even lower.

"Thank you, sir!"

Maxwell left, making his way toward Spade’s office.