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    The Guild Master, a mountain of a man with arms thicker than most men’s torsos, crossed them over his chest and let out a low grunt. The runic lights above cast a sharp gleam across his bald head, emphasizing his imposing presence. Strapped to his back were two massive axes, each too large for an ordinary man to wield even with both hands. His brow was furrowed as he stared down at Roland, who stood before him.

    “When I signed that contract, I never thought you’d use it like this. Do you really expect me to go with you? Isn’t there someone better suited, like that knight commander with the metal arm?”

    “Someone of his caliber needs to stay behind and protect Lord Arthur. I can’t trust you with that kind of responsibility, Guild Master.”

    “Hah… you think I’m that cold-hearted?”

    Aurdhan asked, barely moving from his stance.

    “Yes.”

    “Heh… Well, at least you know me”

    Aurdhan said, his tone softening slightly.

    “So, where are we going? And what about that vixen? Shouldn’t she be here too?”

    “She was smarter with her contract. Took a bigger pay cut to leave that clause out.”

    Aurdhan went quiet. Roland almost let out a sigh of relief as the Guild Master’s intense stare finally eased. The man had signed several contracts with both him and Arthur. Through them, he had become their partner, not just in moving goods through unsanctioned channels, but in far more delicate matters. Alongside the leader of the thieves’ guild, Aurdhan had been helping them launder money.

    Surprisingly, the woman, despite being a known thief, had proven herself less greedy than the Guild Master of the Adventurers’ Guild. Her contract lacked the critical clause that now bound Aurdhan: in exchange for large sums of money, he had agreed to assist them in times of crisis. He couldn’t refuse when called upon unless the task was highly unreasonable.

    ‘This was the easy part…’

    Roland had gathered five people so far. Robert and Lucille stood beside him, with Aurdhan now part of the group as well. Armand and Lobelia were already en route, leaving only one person left to recruit. Where they were going demanded highly experienced fighters with powerful abilities. They needed to keep the team small, just a handful of elites as time was critical.

    “Go to the teleportation gate and wait for me inside the dungeon. I’ll be there shortly.”

    “Yes, High Commander.”

    Robert gave a respectful nod, maintaining the illusion that Roland outranked him. Aurdhan, along with Armand and Lobelia, weren’t aware of the truth about Roland’s brother, so for now, it was safer to keep up appearances. To them, Robert was just another knight commander serving under Lord Arthur. The group departed quickly, leaving Roland alone. Without wasting time, he turned toward his next destination – the Church of Solaria.

    ‘They really invested a lot into this church, can barely recognise it…’

    The grand archway leading into the current Church of Solaria loomed ahead, its ornate structure flanked by towering marble statues. Each one had been painted in gold, reshaped visually to reflect the radiant image of the golden sun goddess. In the distance, a solemn hymn echoed from within as the worshippers remained deep in the middle of mass.

    Despite the faint screeches of monsters beyond the city gates, there was no sign of alarm. The congregation seemed undisturbed, likely believing that the armed paladins would shield them from any danger.

    “Halt.”

    Roland was stopped at the entrance by a man clad in gold-colored armor. Although only a tier two class holder, he wore the full plate-mail of the holy knights, identical to those serving the Church of Solaria. This institution was far more than a place of worship. It was one of the most powerful organizations on the continent, rivaling entire nations in influence and surpassing some in strength.

    “It’s the High Commander.”

    As soon as the second guard recognized him, both men simply nodded and stepped aside. Although Roland was not officially part of the church, he was known as the bearer of the holy beast, a title that granted him a certain level of reverence and authority within these walls. Once inside, he saw rows of worshippers kneeling in prayer, their eyes closed in devotion. None of them spared him even a glance, completely absorbed in their rituals and hymns.

    ‘Now then, Agni’s shrine should be right there…’

     

    There had been many changes to this church throughout the years. It was not much more than a small cloister when he first arrived in Albrook but now it was a grand cathedral which had been assembled in only recently. With building magic, golems and a lot of money it was quite easy to spread their influence within this church.

     

    ‘I don’t really want to go in…’

    Roland could have entered the church and asked someone to guide him further, but he had no time for formalities. Instead, he activated his runic magic to amplify his voice and let out a sharp whistle. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, distant shouting echoed through the halls, followed by the thunderous sound of wolf paws pounding against stone. Agni was coming.

    The horse-sized wolven creature charged forward with ferocious speed. The main entrance doors slammed open as Agni burst outside, his tongue lolling out in pure excitement. His eyes immediately locked onto his master. Roland braced himself. He activated several runes etched into his armor just in time for the impact. Agni collided with him head-on, sending him sliding several meters across the stone floor.

    “Calm down, Agni.”

    “Woof!?”

    It must have been a strange sight for the worshippers to witness their so-called holy beast behaving like an overgrown house dog, tail wagging and leaping around with joy at the sight of Roland. Just as Roland was starting to push Agni off him and wiping a bit of slobber from his armor, a heavy clang echoed from within the cathedral.

    “The sacred beast, where did it go?”

    “It… it just left in the middle of the ceremony and ran outside!”

    “Quickly, we must bring the holy beast back!”

    The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall as several armored men approached. Four paladins, each clad in polished golden armor, emerged from within the church. All of them were powerful, easily tier-three class holders. Behind them strode a fifth figure, his armor more elaborate and radiant than the rest. It was their leader, the High Paladin, Gustav.

    “What is the meaning of this?”

    Roland studied the man before him, taking in every detail. Gustav, the High Paladin of the Church of Solaria, was a figure both revered and feared. Though he was nearing sixty, he looked far younger, just like any high-level tier three class holder.


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    His body carried the marks of lifelong discipline rather than age. His face was sharply defined, with a high-bridged nose and a strong, squared jaw. On his left cheek, a sun-shaped symbol had been seared directly into the skin—a mark of devotion or perhaps something more ritualistic. His silver-white hair was cropped short and swept back in precise, orderly rows, matching the gleam of his neatly trimmed beard. But it was his eyes that left the strongest impression: piercing and golden, as if a fragment of the sun itself burned behind them.

    His armor was unlike any worn by his fellow paladins. Forged from sanctified alloys created by the church itself. Engraved across his breastplate was the sigil of Solaria. Interwoven into his armor were faint silver runes, pulsing with divine energy and enchantments layered over decades of service. A massive warhammer hung from his back, its handle carved from holy whitewood and wrapped in strips of holy cloth. The head of the weapon, almost absurdly large, bore the etched likeness of the sun, its rays spiraling outward in swirling, flame-like patterns. Despite its weight, Gustav could wield it in a single hand.

    ‘Those eyes are unsettling, must be some kind of after-effect of using holy energy.’

    The man radiated authority, and his gaze was sharp enough to make lesser men falter. Still, he was not on the level of the High Inquisitor. To Roland, he was more reminiscent of Gideon, the paladin from the Golden Knight Order who had once served in this region. There was a familiar edge to Gustav’s posture and presence, suggesting some connection to Gideon. No doubt, Gideon had already filled his ears with unfavorable opinions.

    It was clear Gustav did not like him. Even so, at this moment, Roland outranked him. Whatever personal grudges the High Paladin held were irrelevant. Agni was his companion, bound to him by the world system, something even the church could not go against. The game-like system was considered a god in itself, a force of nature that dictated how the world operated.

    “Greetings, High-Paladin Gustav, I have come to retrieve my companion.”

    Roland had Agni settle down near his side while he conversed with the man in front of him. Gustav did not respond immediately. Instead, he studied Roland in silence, as if weighing whether it was worth clashing with the High Commander here and now. Around them, the other paladins remained motionless, their gauntlets clenched tightly against the hilts of their weapons. Though none dared act without orders, the tension in the air was thick enough to taste. After a long pause, Gustav finally spoke.

    “You summoned the sacred beast… with a whistle.”

    “I did.”

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