Welcome to the Café of the Dark Guild’s Successor - Chapter 96

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A café run by the Heir of the Dark Guild.
96
His shoes had come loose from running the rough mountain path. Blood wept from his soles where they scraped against stone, yet Cayden did not stop.
The flames rose from exactly where he’d feared—Rosia’s shop. Remaining fire still consumed the trees around it.
‘Please don’t tell me she was inside.’
Cayden ran in circles around the burning lot, wild with anxiety and dread, feeling as though he might shatter.
The situation was dangerous, but he hesitated not a moment before plunging into the shop.
“Rosia!!”
He searched desperately for her among the charred debris and still-burning wood.
“Peep!”
At that sound—a chick’s cry from the backyard—his heart thundered so violently he thought it might burst.
Following the sound, he rushed forward and discovered Rosia collapsed among the wreckage.
“Rosia!!”
Cayden sank to the ground and cradled her in his arms. The moment he confirmed she was breathing, tears spilled from his eyes.
“Thank God… Thank God. Really….”
As he brushed the ash from her face, his hands trembled violently.
Fortunately, she bore no burn marks; her clothes were simply torn and soiled.
Yet through the rips he could see contusions from the impact. He touched them gently, his jaw tightening.
“Rosia… Can you hear me? Wake up.”
He tried shaking her gently to rouse her, but she remained unconscious.
“Holy Power won’t work on her like this.”
Staring at Rosia’s limp form, his mind went blank.
Cayden rubbed her arms and legs, trying to raise her body temperature.
When she showed no signs of waking, he lifted her into his arms and bolted for the exit.
A portal suddenly tore open in the air, and two figures stepped through almost simultaneously.
Biedler and Meyson.
Cayden pulled Rosia tighter against his chest, his gaze sharpening into a blade.
Biedler he’d seen before and trusted, but Meyson in human form was unfamiliar—he tensed immediately.
“Who are you?”
“What happened here?”
Meyson reached Cayden in a heartbeat, extending his fingers to check Rosia’s breathing.
Cayden started, trying to shield her from his touch, but found his body frozen.
“I didn’t think it would be you. Tell me everything you saw, from start to finish.”
Meyson’s voice descended cold as steel.
The remaining embers scattered and died under the weight of his Magical Power.
Meyson had only stepped away briefly to visit Seniel.
In that short interval, Rosia had been attacked.
Fury turned inward at his own negligence, and a sharper enmity kindled toward whoever had struck at his granddaughter.
“Please, tell me who you are first.”
Meyson bound Cayden’s hands with magic, but Holy Power and Magical Power conflicted; gradually the restraint loosened.
Wary of this stranger who’d appeared and flared with rage, Cayden held Rosia even more tightly.
“Stand down. He’s trustworthy.”
Biedler, who had been quietly observing, interjected.
Though the situation demanded caution, he couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering on Rosia, cradled in Cayden’s arms.
He was barely restraining the urge to tear her away and check her condition himself.
“I don’t know who you are.”
Seeing the aggressive refusal in Cayden’s eyes, Meyson sighed.
“I’m Rosia’s grandfather.”
“What? I’ve never heard anything about that.”
“Of course you haven’t. My granddaughter didn’t know either.”
Meyson’s voice carried a lonely murmur as he turned away from Cayden.
“I’ll carry her.”
Cayden hesitated, unsure whether to trust him.
But seeing Meyson’s silver hair and the familiarity of his bearing—so like Seniel’s—and the tender way he looked at Rosia, Cayden carefully transferred her to his back.
Once Rosia was secured, Meyson paused a moment, then began walking, cradling her as though she were infinitely precious.
“So… so light.”
This was the first time he had carried anyone on his back. Rosia’s small, delicate weight pressed upon him with an unbearable heaviness.
His very existence had frightened him; he’d feared his presence might wound her. He hadn’t even managed a proper greeting, much less revealed his true self.
Now, nearly losing her forever, he felt his blood reverse course, his heart sink into the abyss.
“Is there empty space in the Temple?”
“There’s a guest room.”
“I’ll rent it.”
“Of course.”
Cayden led the way; Meyson followed, with Biedler trailing behind and addressing him.
“Meyson, the fire hasn’t been extinguished yet.”
“It will die out soon. The flames were conjured by magic. The fire won’t spread beyond the Barrier Stones.”
“By magic? Then someone set it deliberately?”
“Yes.”
Meyson had rushed back to the mountain the moment he sensed a surge of powerful magic through the Barrier.
‘If I’d positioned the Barrier Stones closer, I could have noticed sooner and stopped the shop from burning.’
Meyson was berating himself now with sharp regret for his own complacency.
Especially knowing what that shop must have meant to Rosia.
It was the only sanctuary she’d chosen to return to—her sole refuge in the freedom she’d only just been given. The fact that such a place had gone up in flames so meaninglessly weighed on his heart.
They arrived at the Temple.
Meyson lowered Rosia onto the guest room’s bed with painstaking slowness and care.
Then he created a thin, translucent thread of Magical Power and draped it across her finger.
“Connecting Magic.”
Biedler murmured in surprise.
Connecting Magic allowed one to sense the condition of a connected person across distance.
The farther apart they were, and the longer the connection held, the greater the Magical Power drain—it was not sustainable for long.
But now, fearing another attack on Rosia, Meyson resolved to maintain the connection while moving.
“She was already collapsed when you arrived? You didn’t see who did this?”
“…That’s correct.”
Cayden’s face was consumed with worry for Rosia.
Meyson looked between the two men, then exhaled slowly.
“Neither of you pleases me.”
In his assessment, Cayden was terminally ill, and Biedler was altogether unreliable.
Meyson clicked his tongue and addressed Cayden, who at least had the sense to bring Rosia meals each day.
“Guard her well. I’m going to find whoever did this to my granddaughter.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“I’ll find out. And when I do, I’ll repay them in kind.”
The chill in Meyson’s voice froze the very air around them.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No. You’ll only get in the way.”
Biedler stepped forward, but Meyson dismissed him with an irritated wave.
With one last glance at Rosia, he turned and walked out.
He returned to the ruined shop and drew a Magic Circle.
“Wyatt will sense this.”
The magic Meyson was about to unfold would consume enormous reserves of Magical Power.
Wyatt, who had been searching constantly, would certainly feel an expenditure of this magnitude.
But it didn’t matter. His granddaughter had nearly been taken from him—what did secrecy matter now?
Meyson extended both hands forward and deployed the Magic Circle.
It was magic that read what had transpired in this place since he’d left, tracing the flow of events through the world’s currents.
Because it went against the natural order, it demanded enormous Magical Power and Meyson’s absolute concentration.
Then his eyes snapped open.
“Found him. It was that one.”
Meyson’s teeth ground audibly as he confirmed the face of Robin, who had hurled the Artifact at Rosia’s shop.
The man he’d suspected when he’d noticed him prowling near the shop recently—whose presence he’d marked the moment their eyes met.
“I should have eliminated him then.”
He’d held back because it seemed Rosia knew of him and had a reason for allowing it; that hesitation had proven costly.
Meyson deployed the magic once more, tracking Robin’s presence.
He thought the man couldn’t be far—and indeed, Robin was still on Alein Mountain.
Meyson didn’t wait. He launched himself forward and materialized before Robin.
Robin had planned to sleep through the night and check the shop in the morning; now he sat by a campfire, relaxing.
He was just about to lie down on the fur blanket when Meyson appeared.
“W-what—”
Robin jumped, drawing his sword and adopting a fighting stance.
But before he could strike, a single gesture from Meyson sent the blade flying from his grip.
Robin staggered, feeling as though something heavy had slammed into his arm.
“A mage?!”
Wondering why a mage had appeared here, he tried to back away.
But there was no escape from Meyson.
Meyson conjured a circular Barrier around Robin, trapping him inside.
Each step forward was heavy with fury.
“You should regret not running far away.”
“W-wait, who are you? Let’s talk about this. I can prove my identity.”
“Your words are irrelevant. I’ll find the answers myself.”
As Meyson raised his hand, Robin lifted off the ground.
“Ah—ahhh?!”
Robin spun helplessly in mid-air, screaming for mercy, but Meyson kept him rotating—again and again.
When Robin lost consciousness, Meyson finally withdrew his hand.
Robin plummeted to earth, his body slamming against the ground hard enough to jar him back awake, and he immediately began retching.
“Ugh, urrgh….”
“Finished vomiting?”
As Robin heaved, Meyson regarded him coldly and reached out his hand once more.
Trapped in the Barrier with nowhere to flee, Robin stared up at him with eyes full of fear.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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