By the time he came out, he was dressed and the dagger was hidden inside his belt.

Kyle found Mira at the bottom of the inn’s stairs, and she had regained her composure. When she saw him, she sniffed and started walking first.

Kyle followed.

The streets were busy for the hour. Lanterns everywhere, noise coming from all directions. Stonehelm at night ran on a different engine than Stonehelm in the morning—less movement, more living. Music from somewhere, the smell of food, people who looked like they had nowhere to be.

The tavern was loud even before they got to the door. Light and voices pouring out the windows, and someone inside mid-toast, loud enough to carry into the street.

Mira pushed the door open.

The warmth hit first, then the noise.

Weston was at a table near the window, mug in hand, looking nothing like himself. No priest robes—just a plain tunic, sleeves rolled up. More relaxed than Kyle had ever seen him.

Leo looked... almost normal too, without armor. Still built like a wall, of course, but he had a clean shirt on, and his usual seriousness had softened into something tolerable.

And Alara wasn’t wearing her armor either. Instead, she wore a dark shirt and tight pants that hugged her fit hips. Her clothes were practical but neat. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail and styled in a cleaner way.

When Mira and Kyle approached, Leo raised an eyebrow. "Took you long enough."

Mira sat down immediately. "Shut up."

Weston chuckled. "Welcome."

Alara’s gaze flicked to Kyle.

"You came," she said simply.

Kyle sat down. "I was kidnapped."

Mira kicked him lightly under the table.

Kyle didn’t react. He just smirked.

Leo stared between them. "You two are weird."

"We’re not weird," Mira said instantly.

Kyle ordered coffee instead of alcohol like the rest of the group.

Alara noticed this. "Don’t you drink alcohol?"

Kyle shook his head. "I don’t like what makes me lose my mind."

Alara didn’t say anything else, but her eyes shone with a hidden curiosity. The rest of the group didn’t care about that and started drinking.

Weston leaned back, sighing happily. "I missed this."

"You missed alcohol," Leo corrected.

Weston smiled. "That too."

Alara waited until everyone had something in front of them—mug, cup, whatever—then she stood slightly and lifted hers.

The table quieted.

"Tonight," she said, voice steady, "we celebrate completing a difficult mission."

Mira grinned. "And not dying!"

Alara allowed a small exhale that almost counted as a laugh.

"And," Alara continued, "we celebrate something else."

Her gaze turned to Kyle. "Kyle is officially part of this party as a full member."

Weston raised his mug. "Welcome properly."

Mira lifted hers too, smiling brightly. "Welcome!"

Kyle lifted his cup slowly and tapped it gently against theirs.

"To surviving," Kyle said.

Mira grinned. "To getting paid."

Leo added, "To not camping anytime soon."

Weston chuckled. "Amen."

They drank.

And for a while, the night was... normal.

They ate. They argued about who hit the boss hardest.

Mira exaggerated everything with her hands.

Leo corrected her every time.

Weston tried to keep the peace and somehow ended up laughing the most.

Even Alara relaxed enough to let her shoulders drop, just a little, as if for one night she could stop being the leader and be a person.

Kyle sat among them, listening, smiling at the right moments. And thinking.

`This is what it looks like when people start to accept you... But are their feelings real?`

They didn’t accept him because they loved him, but because the command ingrained in their minds forced them to.

Does this mean their feelings are fake? Well... not necessarily.

All Kyle comanded them was to feel comfortable with him, and the rest came smoothly. His command was a means to an end, but not for domination.

Does this mean that Kyle can’t completely change their feelings? He can, but does he want to?

Kyle took another sip. And his smile stayed calm.

Tonight was a celebration... and he will make sure to enjoy it.

***

Across the city, the night looked different.

The room was quiet—too quiet for a party that had just arrived and stolen everyone’s attention that morning.

A single candle on a wooden table, flame sitting low and still. Three badges caught the light—B-rank, fresh from the guild. Clean metal, sharp engraving, the faint smell of the workshop still on them.

Arthur had his elbows on the table, badge turning slowly between his fingers. The silver armor from earlier was stacked in the corner.

Kaia lounged back in her chair, ankles crossed with her boots up. She spun an arrow between her fingers, expression somewhere between entertained and annoyed.

Celestia sat straight, hands folded, veil set aside. Her hair fell loose behind her shoulders. The candlelight caught it and made it look almost silver.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"So..." he began, then paused like he was choosing the most heroic wording. "The guildmaster agreed."

Kaia’s mouth curled. "After you stared at him like you were about to challenge him to a duel, yeah."

Arthur shot her a look. "I didn’t stare."

"You did," Kaia said, then lifted her arrow like a judge’s gavel. "But it’s fine. It’s your face. It does that when you’re trying not to look excited."

Arthur’s ears warmed. "I’m not excited."

Kaia leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice in a mock whisper. "Sure, Arthur. ’The future dragon-slayer’ is totally calm."

Arthur shut his mouth. Annoyed—but the corner of his lips moved anyway.

Celestia’s voice came in between them.

"He agreed because it benefits the guild," she said. "A dragon that old is a problem for trade routes, patrol routes, the city’s reputation. They remove it, they get money, influence, and security." 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Arthur’s grip tightened on the badge. "Still... One month."

Kaia’s eyebrow went up. "You’re impatient."

Arthur coughed. "I’m motivated."

`A dragon.` The thought slipped in before he could stop it. `A real old dragon. The kind that gets songs written about you.`

He forced his face back into something neutral, like a hero was supposed to look.

Celestia watched him without turning her head much. She smiled a little, and her eyes softened with something close to knowing.

"Motivated is fine," she said. "But remember why we’re here."

Arthur’s jaw clenched slightly. "I know."

Celestia tapped the B-rank badge lightly with one finger, making it click against the wood.

"The guildmaster did what he could," she said. "B-rank is the highest he can assign to us in this branch without provoking paperwork, complaints, and politics."

Kaia rolled her shoulders. "Basically: You’re strong, but you’re not proven."

Arthur bristled. "We are proven."

Kaia tilted her head. "You’re prophesied. That’s different."

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue. Because she was right.

Celestia’s gaze drifted to the window for a moment. The city outside was alive with night noise—music, footsteps, tavern laughter carried on the wind.

Celestia didn’t share in it.

She turned back, voice quieter now.

"The guildmaster isn’t convinced we came here for glory and experience alone," she said. "He agreed because refusing would look like disrespect... and because he believes the campaign will happen with or without us."

Kaia chuckled. "He looked like: I’ve buried stronger men than you."

Arthur stiffened a little. Kaia noticed and added immediately—lighter, warmer.

"But relax. He wasn’t looking down on you. He was measuring you." She flicked the arrow once between her fingers. "That’s what strong people do."

Arthur’s shoulders eased—barely.

Celestia didn’t comment. Instead, she slid a folded piece of parchment from her sleeve and placed it on the table.

The seal on it wasn’t the guild’s. It was the church’s.

Even Kaia’s playful expression faded a little.

Arthur’s excitement dimmed, replaced by focus.

Celestia laid two fingers on the broken seal, which had been opened previously.

"This is what matters," she said.

Kaia leaned closer, nodding. "That’s why we came all this way."

Arthur swallowed. `Right. The real reason.`

Celestia finally unfolded the parchment slowly. The handwriting on it was clean and precise—written by someone who believed every word mattered.

"One of the High Priests," she said, "gave us verified information."

Kaia’s fingers tightened around her arrow. "Verified how?"

Celestia didn’t answer directly. She didn’t have to. Instead, she continued.

"The first Hero’s sword was forged in Stonehelm. The story says it was lost centuries ago." Her eyes lifted briefly. "That story was meant to be believed."

Arthur frowned. "So it wasn’t lost?"

"It was stolen from one of the former demon kings." Celestia corrected.

Kaya raised an eyebrow. "And now you’re saying they found it here? In Stonehelm?"

Celestia shook her head. "Not in Stonehelm specifically..."

Kaia frowned slightly, then her eyes widened as she took it all in. "Blackroot Mountains..."

Celestia nodded once. "Yes. Specifically... in the cave now occupied by the red dragon."

Arthur sat back slightly, the weight of it hitting him all at once. "So that’s why you said we should join the dragon-slaying campaign."

He leaned forward. "Then why not tell the guildmaster? If he helps us kill the dragon, we—"

"No," Celestia said, cutting him off so smoothly it didn’t sound like a command... but it was.

Arthur stopped instantly.

She continued, tone calm, as if she were explaining something obvious to children.

"The legendary sword of the first hero is so valuable that it attracts many eyes... We cannot trust the guild master."

Then she frowned a little as she continued. "Also, the moment the guild knows, the moment anyone outside this room knows, word will reach the other faction inside the church."

Arthur clenched his fingers. "Those who against you."

Celestia nodded. "Against us."

Kaia narrowed her eyes. "Then they’ll try to take it."

"They’ll try to stop us first," Celestia said. "And if they fail... yes. They’ll try to claim it."

Arthur forced a breath. "So the plan stays the same."

Celestia nodded. "We let the world believe we’re here to slay a dragon for glory."

Kaia smirked at Arthur. "Which isn’t entirely a lie."

Arthur’s face heated. "Kaia!"

She lifted a hand in surrender—still smiling. "Fine. I’ll stop."

Celestia smiled softly. "Obtaining the sword will greatly increase our strength."

Kaia chuckled. "And you’ll look great holding it."

Arthur’s eyes gleamed as he thought quietly. `Once we have it... no one can deny me.`

Celestia stood, gathering the parchment and sliding it back into her sleeve. "We have one month until the campaign. During that time, we will prepare ourselves well."