By the time Wolka and the rest of Silvery Grey had finished their morning training and kicked off an ideal day with Roze’s impeccable homemade breakfast, the various shops and facilities of the Holy City were beginning their day in earnest.
The Adventurer's Guild in the Holy Court District was no exception. The receptionists, who served as the face of the guild, had just finished tidying the lobby, and the day’s business was moments away from beginning—or so it should have been.
"Man... ah, peace really is the best, isn't it?"
From an adventurer's perspective, the second floor was a place one only entered for specific procedures or interviews. In the administrative floor beyond the "Authorized Personnel Only" door, a man was currently sprawled on a sofa, indulging in a lazy slumber.
"I’m so glad things have finally settled down. I feel like I’ve worked three months' worth of hours in this month alone. My stamina just can't take it."
Lying with his hands tucked behind his head as a pillow and his legs disrespectfully crossed, he let out a lazy yawn toward the ceiling, looking nothing like a professional about to start a workday. He was a disheveled man with a listless, vacant look in his eyes and a patch of unshaven stubble. Despite his slovenly appearance, none of the staff organizing documents nearby scolded him; they simply offered wry smiles or looks of exasperation, long accustomed to the sight.
Then, a sudden thwack echoed through the room.
"Hey, you lazy bum."
"Ow!"
A young woman who had just returned from the first floor with a stack of documents smacked the man on the head with the bundle.
"Since you’re always slacking off, shouldn't you be working twice as hard as everyone else just to look human, old man?"
"That’s harsh. We worked hard together this time, didn't we? You saw me in action. I was quite the dandy."
"Well, I guess you were better than nothing."
"Only 'better than nothing'?"
About a month had passed since the Clearance Approval Accident at the Dungeon Gouzel, and daily life was finally returning to the Adventurer's Guild in the Holy Court District.
Until just a few weeks ago, this floor had been a whirlwind of chaos rarely seen in recent years. Demands for details about the accident and pleas for mission cancellations had echoed constantly from the first floor. At the height of the crisis, nearly half the administrative staff had been pulled down to assist the receptionists. The commotion eventually spilled out into the streets, morphing into rumors that rippled through the entire Holy City, taking on the appearance of a major scandal.
However, for many citizens—excluding adventurers—the story was often met with confusion. People wondered why it was such a big deal. After all, the "True Boss" had been defeated in the end, so what was the problem? It was a logical question.
The most troublesome part of this Clearance Approval Accident—the first in the country in decades—was the chilling question it raised for every adventurer: "Are the other cleared dungeons actually safe?" No one at the guild could give a definitive answer. Consequently, the guild was forced to take responsibility for re-investigating every dungeon cleared in the country in recent years. The resulting logistical nightmare, involving procedures and personnel, had grown into a massive operation that even required the cooperation of the Knights.
A month later, most of the re-investigations were underway, and the situation was finally stabilizing.
However, completely dispelling the doubt in the adventurers' hearts was another matter. There was a lingering fear that even in "cleared" dungeons, a terrifyingly powerful True Boss Monster might be lurking. If a party entered with a light heart and encountered such a monster, they would undoubtedly be wiped out. Low-rank parties were particularly terrified. Requests related to cleared dungeons were being shunned, and those quest boards would likely continue to collect dust for some time.
This was a problem that only time could heal; it wasn't something that could be fixed overnight. It would be cruel to dwell on it in front of the staff who were finally catching their breath after surviving a historic workload.
"Old man, please try to take your job a bit more seriously on a regular basis."
"This old man is at that age, you see. I can't keep up with a youngster like you, Shannon-chan."
The girl was Shannon, the same woman mentioned in Wolka’s conversation recently.
"You say that, but you’re still perfectly capable of working."
"Well, anyway, we can finally relax a bit—"
This girl—looking every bit the "bright, studious older sister" with her ponytail and glasses—was the one currently tormenting herself, shouldering the blame for the accident.
"Shannon-chan, you really should take a break. You have to realize how pale you look."
"..."
Shannon's eyes went hazy. Her focus suddenly detached from reality, as if she were falling into a dark void. The man sighed.
"Take some time off, sleep until you can't sleep anymore, and then go talk to Wolka-kun and the others. At this rate, you're going to wake up in a church bed before you know it. I’m not joking."
"H-He’s right, Shannon-chan."
A colleague sitting nearby chimed in.
"Fyuji-san is right. You've been running around non-stop. You haven't rested at all..."
"...I'm... fine."
"The people who say they're fine are the ones who definitely aren't. That’s a universal truth."
The man—Fyuji—declared flatly. The surrounding staff members remained silent in concerned agreement. To say Shannon looked healthy right now would be a lie; the shadows of extreme exhaustion were clearly etched under her eyes.
In the month since the Gouzel accident, Shannon had worked every single day until sunset. She went home at night, but...
"There’s no point in taking a break. I can’t sleep anyway."
"Now listen, Shannon-chan—"
"Liesel and the others had it much worse."
She cut off Fyuji’s attempt to admonish her with a sharp tone.
"You saw them too, didn't you, old man? Compared to what they went through, this is nothing."
"..."
Shannon was referring to the time she and Fyuji had traveled to the town of Luther to investigate the facts shortly after the accident was discovered.
Specifically, the moment she had been told to "Get out" by Liesel.
"The fact that Liesel and the others suffered so much, and that Wol-kun was hurt... it's all my fault."
"Shannon-chan, you're overthinking it. There's no way Wolka-kun and his party would blame you."
"...I wonder."
It was after that trip that Shannon had begun to deteriorate.
It was understandable. Despite her casual way of speaking, Shannon was nineteen, making her slightly older than the members of Silvery Grey. Her personality—throwing herself wholeheartedly into helping those she liked—was often teased as being "dog-like." She had taken it upon herself to look after Wolka’s group, proudly declaring herself their "older sister."
For someone like Shannon, the guilt was a crushing weight.
The cause of the accident was suspected to be a failure of duty by the party that performed the clear approval. And the person who had appointed that party to the Gouzel investigation team was none other than Shannon.
"If I... if I had just noticed..."
Logically, it was unfair to place the entire burden of responsibility on her. The party in question, Flamberge, were well-known veterans in the Holy City who had successfully completed several clear approvals in the past. Above all, Shannon had followed every protocol, compiling the documents and obtaining approval from her superiors and the Guild Master. Selecting Flamberge had been the consensus of the entire guild.
The fact that the party's members had been in a state of internal collapse was only discovered after the tragedy had occurred.
Everyone tried to tell her she wasn't to blame, but Shannon refused to listen. Even now, she fought back tears.
"How am I supposed to face them...? How can I even begin to apologize...?"
"...You have too strong a sense of responsibility, Shannon-chan."
Her tendency to over-empathize and pour her heart into those she cared about was both her greatest virtue and her most painful flaw.
"Besides, Wol-kun and the others haven't even returned yet... Maybe they don't even want to come back to the Holy City anymore—"
"U-Um..."
A young man sitting a few desks away timidly raised his hand. He wasn't much for socializing and spoke up while carefully gauging the room's reaction.
"Wolka-san and the others... um, they're already back, actually."
"—What?"
"I happened to pass by Le Bouquet this morning... and I saw them all training together like usual..."
Shannon’s grip failed, and the entire stack of documents she was holding spilled across the floor.
"Anyway..."
With morning training finished and our stomachs full of Roze’s breakfast, it was time to start the day in earnest. I stood in the room with my Master and the others, checking in on one final thing.
"Do you all... want to go to the guild? If it's too difficult to show your faces there..."
"..."
Our plan for today was to wrap up our journey by visiting our main acquaintances to report our return. We particularly needed to check in at the guild; an adventurer who fails to communicate properly quickly loses all credibility.
However, I found myself hesitating. It wasn't that I was being lazy, and reporting to the guild wasn't a problem in itself, but...
"Well... it is a bit difficult to show one's face."
"Yes... I feel the same way..."
My Master, who was currently sprawled on my bed with her long silver hair fanning out, and Yulitia, who was carefully braiding that hair, both wore weak, conflicted expressions.
It was indeed hard to go back. In the town of Luther, everyone had been a stranger, so we hadn't cared as much, but the Holy City was different. We were bound to run into people we knew. We would undoubtedly be asked why we were gone for a month, and the sight of my eyepatch and prosthetic leg would draw all sorts of reactions.
Depending on those reactions, my companions might end up feeling miserable.
Atri, sitting in a chair, looked puzzled.
"Is that so? I don't really mind..."
"To be honest, I'm not looking forward to it either."
"...Actually, I'm not looking forward to it either."
Atri performed a seamless about-face, but the point remained: the guild was a sensitive place for us right now. Yet, at the same time, we couldn't simply ignore our obligations.
"But... we have to talk to Shannon, don't we?"
"Ugh..."
Master shriveled up as I hit the mark.
"T-That’s true. We did hurt her, after all..."
Shannon was the guild clerk who had always supported Silvery Grey. To put it simply, she was like a friendly, loyal dog. She was the type of person who became deeply involved in the lives of those she liked. Perhaps because our party included young girls, she felt a need to watch over us, helping us out in both our professional and private lives. She was essentially our handler at the guild. When we first arrived in the Holy City, she was the one who taught us everything about the place.
She usually wore her honey-colored hair in a crisp ponytail for work and wore a pair of intelligent-looking oval glasses. For some reason, she had two tufts of unruly hair on the sides of her head that stuck up like beast ears, which only added to her canine impression. She claimed they were invincible cowlicks that no amount of grooming could tame.
She had an energetic way of speaking, often ending her sentences with a polite yet informal tone. That bright, accessible manner was likely another reason she seemed so dog-like. She was nineteen, and her height was... just a bit shorter than Atri, I think.
Our closest friend at the guild was apparently so distraught that she was blaming herself for everything that had happened. I didn't know the full details, but we couldn't just leave her like that.
"...Actually, am I the problem? If I weren't there—"
"That's not it at all!"
Master and the others suddenly raised their voices.
"Don't say such stupid things! You aren't 'the problem'!"
"Exactly, Senpai! We would never think of you as an obstacle! Please don't talk about disappearing...!"
"Wolka... I'll get mad if you say things like that...!"
Wait, I didn't say that... I never said I was "disappearing"! Please listen to what I’m actually saying!
"I meant if I just didn't go with you. I can stay behind and look after the room."
If I went with them, people would see my eye and leg and start whispering. My companions would feel uncomfortable. No matter how I looked at it, I was the cause of the potential friction. Since I didn't know what had happened when Shannon came to Luther, having the others go without me was a logical option.
But everyone looked away stubbornly.
"If Wolka isn't going, I'm not going either."
"Me neither."
"Same here."
"...I see."
I guess I'd just have to steel myself and go. If I put it off, rumors about my injuries would spread eventually anyway. It was probably better to show everyone now and let the gossip die down sooner.
I was thinking it would be easier if Shannon just came to us, when—
"Wolka-chan, is now a good time?"
There was a knock on the door and the sound of Roze’s voice. When I called out a reply, she continued.
"Shannon-chan just arrived. She's asking to see you... are you up for a talk?"
"...Speak of the devil."
I guess we really did need to have this conversation.
"Ah... wait, I'll finish this quickly!"
"Uuu... wh-what am I supposed to say to apologize...?"
Yulitia sped up her braiding, while Master, weighed down by her guilt, looked flustered and anxious.
Even now, Shannon regretted it from the bottom of her soul. Her colleagues at the guild comforted her, telling her she had done nothing wrong.
In truth, it was all just "what ifs," and preventing the accident might have been impossible. The party Shannon had requested for the Gouzel clear approval, Flamberge, had been A-rank for five years and was considered a veteran group in the Holy City with a solid history of similar work.
But if Shannon hadn't just judged them based on the data on their papers... if she had tried to see who Flamberge really were in the present.
If she had known they were fractured by internal strife.
She would never have chosen them.
The moment Shannon picked them, the future was set in stone. Shannon had stood at the first fork in the road that led to the tragedy. If she hadn't chosen Flamberge, none of this would have happened.
Wolka wouldn't have suffered injuries that nearly killed him, losing his eye and his leg.
Liesel and the others wouldn't have been left with such deep emotional scars.
No amount of regret was enough. She truly hated herself.
The story went back nearly a month. That day, when Shannon returned to the office after an early lunch break, she felt a strange tension in the air. Her colleagues were huddled around a desk by the window, speaking in hushed, somber tones.
"Did something happen?"
"Ah, Shannon-chan...!"
A colleague, often described as a "timid squirrel," was looking more restless than usual. She picked up a single sheet of paper from the desk.
"This just arrived from Luther..."
"Luther? I remember that name..."
She felt like she had heard it recently. As she took the small document—likely delivered via messenger bird—she saw the following content, dated the previous day:
Suspected Clear Approval Accident at Dungeon Gouzel. One member of Silvery Grey, visiting from the Holy City, is heavily injured. Requesting urgent support for investigation—
"Wait... what? One member of... what?"
It took a long time for her to process the three simple lines. Fyuji, who usually did nothing but lounge on the sofa, had stood up with a grim expression.
"Shannon-chan. Weren't you the one who handled the clear approval for Gouzel?"
He was right. A month ago, a clear report had been submitted for a small dungeon near the Holy City. Shannon had handled the approval as part of her training. She had selected the party, drafted the documents, and secured the necessary approvals.
But more than that... what truly seized her mind was the name of the party.
Silvery Grey. The party Shannon supported more than any other. The friends she had looked after like a sister.
Wolka. Liesel. Yulitia. Atri.
Heavily injured.
Who? Which one of them?
Her throat went dry. Her fingers trembled against the paper. Her vision narrowed until all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. "Heavily injured." It didn't say who. It didn't say how bad it was. It’s okay, calm down. It says "heavily injured," not "critical condition," so they aren't dying. ...Was that true? Injuries that seemed minor could turn fatal later. What if their condition had already changed?
What if they were already dead?
"Shannon-chan! Shannon-chan!"
"...!?"
Shannon snapped back to reality as her colleague shook her shoulder.
"Shannon-chan, pull yourself together!"
"Ah... I-I'm okay. I'm fine. Sorry..."
She tried to act normal, but anyone could see she was anything but fine. Her face was bloodless, her breathing shallow, and her eyes were unfocused.
Fyuji spoke up, his voice firm.
"Shannon-chan, don't jump to conclusions."
"B-But—"
"Regardless, we need to send someone there to get an accurate picture of the situation. What do you want to do?"
It took Shannon a few seconds to understand the question. Then she realized Fyuji’s intent.
"I-I'm going. I’ll go."
"In that case, this old man will get a horse ready for you."
Despite her frantic state of mind, Shannon was surprised by the offer. Fyuji was a guild employee, but he was also a veteran adventurer. His job was varied: overseeing exams, mediating disputes, and training rookies. Basically, anything involving physical labor fell to him. However, because he was so incredibly lazy and spent most of his time napping, he was viewed by most as a slacker. It was rare for him to take the initiative like this.
At Shannon’s look, Fyuji scratched the back of his neck.
"Well... I guess I should probably be serious for once."
Shannon, consumed by worry for Silvery Grey, didn't fully grasp the weight of his words. Her chest felt tight.
People at the office called her "dog-like." Once she grew fond of someone, she became entirely devoted to them. And that applied to her professional life too. Most guild clerks had a "favorite party" they supported more than others.
For Shannon, that was Silvery Grey.
The news of their injury was an unbearable weight. She prayed.
(Please be okay, everyone...)
The letter Shannon had seen was a preliminary report sent by the Luther guild to inform the Holy City as quickly as possible. It had been sent the previous night—specifically, right after the Protagonist of the original work had reported the accident to the guild on behalf of Liesel and the others, who were busy praying at the Chryscles Holy Church.
The Luther guild had checked with the Church, but since Liesel’s group was in no state to talk, they were barred from visitors, and Wolka’s condition remained unclear. Most of the Sisters had been drafted into the emergency treatment, leaving only apprentices who didn't fully understand the situation. Furthermore, the Protagonist had simply delivered the news and left immediately.
Left with no other choice, the guild reported "one member heavily injured." Their priority was reporting the suspected accident; the precise status of the injured party was secondary.
The Protagonist's report hadn't helped. In this world, "heavily injured" referred to deep wounds that were not immediately life-threatening. For Wolka, who had been hovering between life and death, it should have been reported as "critical condition." However, to anyone other than guild staff or Church Sisters, such a distinction in terminology was often overlooked.
That was why, until Shannon arrived in Luther and heard the truth with her own ears, she had no idea just how catastrophic the situation truly was.