Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 97

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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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Chapter 97: No Choice But Success
We had just arrived in Sector 3 by the Pletica circular tram, and our heads were turning this way and that in bewilderment.
Every street and building was decked out in brilliant festive colors.
With the Guild War approaching, Sector 3 was in the throes of celebration.
Bartimir, taking in the festival atmosphere, scratched his chin and spoke.
“What… is this a wolf festival?”
Gray-furred wolf-men wandered the streets, growling playfully at passersby, and wolf paintings covered the roads.
I pressed skewered snacks into the hands of the young siblings and opened my mouth.
“More precisely, it’s the Ash Gray Wolf Festival. The Guild War celebration festivals vary in name and theme depending on which guild manages Sector 3.”
“Kar, so if the guild was called the ‘Gold Guild,’ they’d hold a gold coin festival?!”
It was a question worthy of Merlin—a materialistic youth obsessed with money.
“Probably. As a similar example, back when the ‘Marsh Warrior Guild’ managed things, Sector 3 turned entirely into swampland.”
“…What’s similar about any of that?”
“Money and marshes. Both are bottomless quagmires that drag people endlessly downward, aren’t they?”
…….
While Merlin frowned, Pendrick—the prodigy swordsman who had just barely finished yesterday’s training and returned—came back with wolf-shaped ice cream and distributed them.
Then he smiled pleasantly.
“Kar, will you be heading directly to the Ash Gray Wolf Guild headquarters?”
“Of course. We need to sync up with the members and share our strategy before the Guild War.”
“Then we’ll see you later. We’ll head to the Dreaming Footpath and find an inn.”
“Choose somewhere upscale. The steward gave us plenty of pocket money from the storage.”
Sergius and Charlotte remained at the mansion.
The servants of the Brethes Family originally dislike crowded places due to assassination risks.
The shadow agents were naturally each attending to their duties, though there was one fortunate exception who had come along.
“Rachel.”
“Yes, Socialite.”
The housemaid agent Rachel immediately bowed at the waist.
She wasn’t a soldier by any means, but her reaction speed was remarkably unusual in a different way than Pierr’s.
“I’d like to ask you for one favor.”
“Just give the order, and I’ll fulfill it with all my heart.”
“Please gather intelligence while moving through Sector 3.”
“What sort of intelligence do you need?”
“Information about Explorers belonging to the guilds participating in the Guild War—specifically those whose recent performance has been unusually good.”
It was an instruction that might have raised questions, but Rachel didn’t hesitate for even a moment and bowed again.
“I’ll do my utmost. Glory to the Liege!”
Such loyalty…!
The steward had truly chosen someone I liked.
The only drawback was that there was none of that nervous thrill of worrying whether she might steal my belongings.
“See you later.”
After parting with the group, I headed north immediately.
In front of the wolf-shaped building at the innermost part of the Path of Thorns.
As I approached the headquarters of the Ash Gray Wolf Guild—which operated a bar on the first floor—people kept stealing glances at me.
《Your renown has certainly risen quite a bit compared to before!》
The moment I stepped inside the building, despite the sun still being high, a pungent reek of alcohol wafted from every direction.
《Warning: Do not drink alcohol under any circumstances!》
“I had no intention of drinking anyway.”
I lined up at the reception counter and answered calmly, then narrowed my brow.
‘…Something feels vague. I can’t quite remember.’
I was certain I knew the reason I shouldn’t drink, but when I tried to recall it, my mind went completely blank.
It was certainly no natural phenomenon.
Perhaps some clever prohibition had been carved into my mind, blocking me from recalling ‘Kar’s past.’
“Welcome.”
My turn came while I was lost in thought.
“What brings you—”
The receptionist, whose face radiated irritation, looked up and stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.
“Could you be… ‘Golden Raven’ Kar?”
Golden Raven.
It was the epithet attached to me now that I had become an Explorer of some renown.
To be honest, I was a little disappointed.
‘If it had been something cool like “Golden Mongrel” or “Golden Half-Breed Ear-Freak,” I would’ve carried myself proudly, but this felt somehow ambiguous, so I naturally shrunk back.’
“The Guild Master said to show you directly to the reception room the moment you arrive.”
Shortly after, the employee sprang from his desk and led me upstairs to the reception room.
“You’ve come. Socialite Kar.”
Odillon, whom I hadn’t seen in some time, was sitting on the sofa.
……
Rosalia, who had joined the young master ahead of me, gave a slight nod.
“Sit down quickly. I have something to say before Targon arrives.”
“Yes.”
As I settled quietly into the seat beside the sofa, Odillon inhaled the smoke from the Comforter and began to speak.
“The contract related to your Guild War participation was successfully completed yesterday.”
“Only now you tell me?”
“It’s because of Elvira, Targon’s secretary. She’s an elf with such considerable experience as an Explorer that she absolutely refused to give ground.”
《I was probably being just as meticulous myself….》
“Rosalia.”
Whoosh.
At the young master’s instruction, Rosalia withdrew a thick bundle of documents from the shadows.
“Surely that isn’t all the contracts?”
“It is. When we put in everything both sides wanted, it became rather lengthy. To avoid being swindled by the Milky Way, something like this is the bare minimum.”
Rustle-rustle.
The Exalted One found it quite satisfying, as though they enjoyed unraveling meticulous intellects like Odillon.
“Read through it once.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Since you’ve put in the effort, the contents are naturally flawless.”
“Well, that’s true enough.”
He thoroughly denies friendship and love, yet accepts praise as if it were only natural.
The young master had rather glaring blind spots.
“Young Master, shall I report on what’s happened in the meantime?”
“Go ahead.”
I gave a detailed account of what had transpired at the Sanctuary of Purification and the rewards I’d obtained through diligent volunteer work.
Odillon, who had listened to me in silence, spoke only after my report concluded.
“So the last Saint of the Protection Church will henceforth treat our expedition without any compensation?”
“Yes. Surely you wouldn’t doubt even the favor of Saint Seraphina, a figure of historical importance?”
……
“Why do you not answer?”
Tap.
Rosalia, standing behind me, tapped my shoulder lightly and shook her head.
It was a signal not to press the young master further.
“And I’ve also entered into a cooperative relationship with an outlaw named Pierr. We’ve cordially agreed to work together to deal with the outlaws belonging to the Silent Alliance.”
“That… I’ll need to hear more details about that later.”
《A dimwitted orc of considerable mass approaches!》
As I finished my report and was picking at the nuts laid out on the table, not long after, an orc of tremendous presence entered the reception room.
《Targon, Guild Master of the Ash Gray Wolf Guild (grey orc, 40 years old). His Soul Level has reached Tier 4, yet I still cannot read his information—a supreme powerhouse!》
“Here already.”
Targon let out a grave voice and collapsed heavily onto the sofa across from us.
Elvira, the elf secretary, quietly approached and stood behind him.
“Now let’s talk. Kar, I’ve been conducting a discreet investigation based on what you said last time.”
A commander wastes no time with unnecessary courtesies.
Targon dove straight to the point.
“It was true. A spy.”
A concise statement that required no tedious explanations—I could piece together roughly what had happened in the meantime.
“Rigobert was siphoning off and leaking internal information.”
Rigobert.
The most senior of the four vice-guild masters, an Explorer of long standing.
“He was extremely thorough—a normal investigation turned up no suspicious points whatsoever, but when I assumed his guilt and analyzed various records, I finally found a thread to pull.”
Despite the shocking truth that a colleague he’d treated like family was a spy, Targon’s expressionless face betrayed no emotion.
It was likely because, sitting in the heavy responsibility of managing Sector 3, he could never show signs of emotional disturbance to anyone—so I chose to be generous in that interpretation.
“Elvira.”
“Yes.”
The summoned secretary promptly withdrew a pouch of money from her Spatial Pocket Glove and placed it on the table.
“1,500 gold. We’ve added a modest reward for your information on the spy to the payment for the Hidden Piece data.”
“Modest, you say—that’s quite a substantial sum.”
“It’s because of a clause that Odillon insisted be added to the contract.”
Elvira, the pearl-skinned elf secretary, clicked her tongue softly.
“It was a clause stating that if the compensation for exposing the spy wasn’t reasonable, he wouldn’t lend me Kar….”
It was quintessentially characteristic of Odillon.
I bobbed my head lightly, then turned to Targon with a cautious question.
“What happened to Rigobert?”
“He fled.”
Targon’s brow furrowed.
“We raided his residence with meticulous preparation. But he’d already caught on—there was no trace of him.”
The guild master, who’d been studying me in silence for a moment, added something crucial.
“All that remained was his skin, as if he’d molted. Was Rigobert a fake all along?”
“To be precise, he was a fake wearing the mask of the real thing.”
At my words, the already ashen complexion of the gray orc darkened further.
“…I see. Now it all makes sense.”
Crack.
The armrest of the sofa, gripped in Targon’s fist, tore clean off.
“Rigobert wasn’t a traitor. He was killed and replaced.”
A pressure like a mountain filled the reception room.
He was merely clenching his teeth and tensing his hands, yet breathing became difficult.
“…….”
Odillon nearly fainted; Rosalia steadied him.
“Guild Master.”
“…My apologies.”
At the secretary’s voice, Targon barely composed himself and fixed his gaze on me, fists still clenched.
“What Secret Art did they use to deceive even my Perception? A rogue, surely?”
“Yes.”
The most malevolent Class by nature was Mage, but the Class most specialized in external treachery was Rogue.
“More precisely, a Ninja among rogues.”
Ninja.
The supreme-tier Class where the creator Kato Roger’s obsessive tendencies shone brightest.
It boasted many strengths, but particularly its exclusive Secret Arts called Ninja Arts each possessed game-breaking power rivaling magic.
‘That one must be dealt with, no matter what.’
Six apostles of the Ninja Class.
Commonly known as Conspirators.
Their specialty: orchestrating dark, sweeping schemes.
They build elaborate plots from the ground up, layering careful designs sky-high, and left alone would very likely sow chaos across all of Pletica.
“Among the Secret Arts of the Ninja Class—which are entirely hidden and unknown—there is one that peels the skin from the dead and wears it like clothing.”
Skincloak.
A Rank 7 Secret Art that assumes the victim’s appearance while absorbing fragments of their memories.
“If a high-Level Explorer uses it, even those closest to you won’t recognize it easily. Even you, Targon.”
There was a minor drawback—needing to wear someone else’s skin—but it was an excellent Secret Art specialized for infiltration.
“Kar. What are the odds that Ninja killed Rigobert will compete in the Guild War?”
It wasn’t a difficult question to answer.
“Absolutely. They will definitely appear.”
“…Well, that’s fortunate.”
For the first time since entering the reception room, the massive gray orc smiled.
“There’s a rule that all damage occurring during the Guild War absolves the aggressor of liability.”
The Dungeon used for Guild Wars has a mechanic that equalizes the Level and physical abilities of all Explorers.
And there’s one more thing.
Inside it, even the dead are revived outside.
In other words, killing someone there was without crime.
“I’m really looking forward to this Guild War….”
Since it was obvious his anticipation ran in a different direction than any ordinary participant’s, the secretary Elvira asked with her eyes: ‘Should I calm him down?’
I gave a light shake of my head.
What could a mere Socialite do to halt a mountain’s advance?
All I could do was ride on the shoulder of this obstinate orc, like the rat from the zodiac legends, charging headlong forward.
“Targon, I can help you.”
I met the orc’s gaze, which carried a faint smile, and tilted my upper body slightly forward.
“If the one who murdered Rigobert and wore his face appears, I will know him at once.”
“Even I, who was closer to him than anyone, didn’t notice the substitution. But you’re saying you can?”
Targon placed both hands on the table.
Had demonstrating his ability proven effective?
Unlike the distrust he’d shown the last time Targon had thrust that uncomfortable truth upon him without warning, curiosity now flickered faintly across the gray orc’s resolute face.
“If someone else had mentioned this, I could dismiss it as empty boasting and cast them out without a second thought. But who am I? A visionary of the Twisted Truth, a servant of Lidney. I possess a Secret Art specialized in information gathering.”
《;)》
“Have faith in me.”
Leaning back against the sofa, I met Targon’s gaze directly and made my declaration.
“I will settle both matters for you at once—Guild War victory and the elimination of the traitor.”
I was a Socialite overflowing with ambition; I had no intention of relinquishing either prize.
“…That nerve. I like it.”
Targon, arms folded, nodded his head with measured approval.
“Until the Guild War is held, you’re officially a member of our guild.”
The secretary promptly drew out an elegant uniform from the Spatial Pocket Glove.
《Premium — Ash Gray Wolf Guild Uniform》
《Made from material more durable than ordinary clothing. Once, from anywhere, you may summon the Guild Master.》
“The size should fit well enough. Try it on.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you’d like?”
“There is, actually.”
I curved my lips into a dark smile befitting a Socialite’s nature.
“If we win the Guild War, please allow me to take a few items of my choosing from the guild’s vault.”

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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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