Surviving the Game as a Barbarian Chapter 786: Upgrade (4)

The economy of Lafdonia depends entirely on mana stones, which brave explorers pull from the depths of the Labyrinth at great personal risk.

Within this city constructed upon a warped foundation, the vital role of explorers goes without saying. Consequently, the “Guild,” tasked with guiding and organizing these adventurers, wields power and reach comparable to the mightiest groups.

Tens of thousands of members in the guild.

Hundreds serving as branch managers.

Regional leaders overseeing those managers.

And towering above everyone is just one “Guildmaster.”

That esteemed title compels even most nobles to yield the path with respect, and truthfully, for a figure like myself, encountering the Guildmaster proves more challenging than approaching high nobility.

‘Yet a person of such stature arrives here without prior word...’

A presence too significant to dismiss casually.

With my interest stirred, I instructed the warrior delivering the news to escort him to my location.

In truth, I had desired a genuine discussion with him for some time already.

Moreover, a nuanced backstory linked me to the Guildmaster.

[Who orchestrated it?]

[Ilia Adnus...]

This unfolded amid the Ice Rock expedition.

One team member, Pike Neldine, had meddled with our provisions and gear on the Guildmaster’s command, aiming to derail the mission.

Back then, I assumed his intent was merely to prevent our success from boosting the Marquis’s reputation.

However...

‘The expedition itself served as a sacrificial piece.’

Upon discovering the Marquis’s initial scheme to forsake us, I found myself compelled to reevaluate my view of the Guildmaster.

Perhaps his aim wasn’t disruption, but rather our rescue.

Naturally, this remains mere conjecture. I’ve yet to verify the facts.

Nevertheless, fortune might favor me today in uncovering the reality.

“Ainard, go play outside.”

“Got it!”

With her gone, I lingered a moment more, until the anticipated visitor stepped in.

“It’s been a while, Baron Yandel. I arrived uninvited, but I appreciate you carving out time for me.”

“I was open in my schedule regardless. No need to fret.”

“I’m grateful for that.”

Honestly, this wasn’t our initial encounter.

Individuals of his rank often attend royal gatherings.

We shared a quick exchange at the triumph feast following the Ice Rock venture.

“So, what brings you here? Showing up unexpectedly like this?”

I posed the question sharply the moment he settled into his seat.

He appeared mildly taken aback.

Evidently, skipping the courtesy of tea and diving into matters caught him off guard.

“Just cut to the chase. Otherwise, I’ll start feeling peckish.”

He chuckled softly, as if recalling my nature, and shifted his approach.

“I regret my limited assistance during the Ice Rock expedition.”

A statement implying awareness of the Marquis’s schemes, while delicately testing my knowledge.

Not the straightforward talk I envisioned, yet for someone like him, this qualified as remarkably direct.

I responded similarly, engaging without overcommitting.

“No, your efforts were substantial. Given the Marquis’s sway then, I believe you withstood more than sufficient pressure.”

This conveyed my awareness of Pike Neldine and the surrounding events.

The Guildmaster nodded with a trace of regret.

“Thank you for those words.”

Good grief, how often will he express thanks?

“Spare me the regrets. What’s your purpose here today?”

I dismissed it with a wave, as if shaking off dust, and at last, he approached the core issue.

Though after a touch of introduction.

“I’ve heard of your impending promotion to Viscount for handling the traitor effectively...”

“And?”

“To be candid, the Labyrinth reopens next month.”

“Hmm. Understood.”

“...Were you already aware?”

“Rumors suggested an imminent opening, but the precise date escaped me.”

“Well, your status would ensure at least some advance notice.”

“And you claim you lacked that?”

In answer to my query, the Guildmaster responded modestly.

“The Guildmaster role doesn’t grant boundless authority or perks. I simply access Labyrinth details earlier than most, nothing more.”

“Your phrasing suggests knowledge beyond the reopening schedule.”

“Currently, the Labyrinth won’t activate on the first.”

“Not on the first?”

I couldn’t suppress a reaction to that revelation.

Previously, the Labyrinth invariably commenced at midnight on the first and concluded at noon the following day, ejecting any lingering explorers.

Admittedly, the royals held the ability to control the portals at will—but one aspect baffled me still.

“What prompts this alteration?”

“It stems from Noark. The royals intend an abrupt opening, deploying only a select few pre-screened explorers with confirmed identities and abilities—to thwart Noark’s preparations and infiltration.”

“Hooh?”

“To maintain utmost secrecy, the portal will activate solely in the royal capital, Karnohn, bypassing the standard dimensional plazas.”

“That detail entirely eluded me.”

“The Guild received early notification to ready the chosen explorers. Even without prior word, Baron, you’d learn of it shortly. The nobles wouldn’t be so shortsighted as to exclude you from the strategy.”

Fools, indeed...

That term exposed the Guildmaster’s low regard for the nobility.

Yet for me, as a Barbarian, he likely viewed me apart from them.

Not that his perspective held much weight.

“What’s your true intent? You didn’t journey here solely to relay this intelligence.”

I urged him once more toward the essence, and at length, the actual motive emerged from him.

“I understand the Anabada Clan boasts eleven members, allowing one vacancy when divided into two teams.”

“So?”

“I wish to claim that vacancy.”

...What’s come over everyone these days?

***

Ilia Adnus.

The individual enjoys considerable renown, even among common folk.

He ranked among elite explorers in the fabled “Golden Generation” prior to the last cycle’s downfall. Yet his widespread recognition surged post-retirement.

I had investigated his background as well.

At age 37, he entered the Guild as an “adviser.”

By 38, he ascended to branch manager, implementing effective changes and earning favor from explorers.

At 41, he attained regional overseer status.

Finally, at 47, he bested the prior Guildmaster via board vote and claimed the leadership—retaining it to this day.

‘Guildmaster within a decade...’

His record clearly showcases undeniable prowess.

But what of it?

“Why would I grant you that position?”

“...You might be unaware, but I spent years as an explorer myself. I wouldn’t hinder your progress—”

“I’m aware. Ilia Adnus. Third-rank explorer upon retirement. Dubbed the Black Hunter. Began as a guide, later pivoting to combat roles.”

Ilia Adnus possesses merit as an adventurer too.

Naturally, expertise alone doesn’t compel me to admit a near-stranger into the Labyrinth.

“...You’ve researched thoroughly. Few recall my origins as a guide.”

“Naturally. You’re the singular Guildmaster, after all.”

As I regarded him wordlessly, he exhaled deeply.

This scenario must feel odd to him.

As Guildmaster, requests for favors likely never arose. However, that designation carried no sway with me.

Chief of the Barbarians.

Baron of Lafdonia.

Explorer immortalized on the Stone of Honor—Bjorn, son of Yandel.

Each accolade sufficed to eliminate any need for deference to a mere “Guildmaster.”

And here he stood, the petitioner?

“Speak freely. Reveal all details. Then I’ll consider it seriously.”

“...”

“What drives this request?”

Should he evade or impose terms anew, I prepared to conclude the exchange abruptly.

Perhaps detecting my resolve—after a deep breath, he at last articulated.

“...I require accomplishments.”

“Accomplishments?”

“The Guild’s clout has dwindled sharply during the prolonged Labyrinth closure. Though not the Guild’s doing, the public demands a scapegoat.”

Scapegoat, you say...

“Aren’t they targeting you specifically, not the Guild?”

“...”

He fell silent as I voiced it with a grin.

‘Ah, now it clicks.’

Ilia Adnus’s later career had encountered an impasse.

Ambition-driven rivals seized this opportunity to unseat him.

And now, he countered directly.

“Thus, you concluded my clan offers the prime venue for gaining those accomplishments.”

“Indeed...”

He affirmed without evasion, leaving me with a subtle sense of letdown.

He fell short of my expectations.

The figure who planted a spy in our group, braving Marquis tensions to aid our survival—I had hoped for some higher purpose.

‘Perhaps it boiled down to mere intrigue...’

Deeper acquaintance might reveal more facets. For the moment, though, he struck me as ordinary.

Simply “the Guildmaster.” No further depth.

Lacking distinctive allure or aura.

Therefore—

“What benefits do I gain from granting your wish?”

“Through Guildmaster powers, I can elevate the Anabada Clan’s status. I’ll extend complete backing and exclusive Guild benefits—”

“That suffices.”

I interrupted upon grasping the gist.

I harbored faint optimism, but predictably, it offered little allure.

An upgraded clan tier alters little practically.

And Guild-internal advantages remain just that—conveniences I can forgo.

“We’ll end it here. Apologies, but seek accomplishments elsewhere.”

This represented the most straightforward refusal available.

Yet the Guildmaster persisted undeterred.

“...What do you desire?”

He uttered it as though prepared to yield anything.

Such words might fit a monarch.

From a power-grasping Guildmaster? It struck me as amusing.

“A dragon heart. Hand that over, and you’re in.”

“...What?”

“Lacking one? Then we’re done—”

As I moved to dismiss him, he interjected.

“...Very well. I’ll provide it.”

“...What?”

...He truly possesses one?