Chapter 174: The First Bell
Three days after the expedition beneath the western forest, Kael discovered that fifty frightened refugees could create more trouble than fifty armed soldiers.
Not because they were violent.
Because they needed everything at once.
Food.
Beds.
Work.
Tools.
Land.
Answers.
The courtyard outside Blackwood Manor had become an unofficial complaints hall before breakfast.
Kael stood at the top of the steps with a cup of tea he had not managed to drink.
Lily stood beside him holding a ledger against her chest.
Below them, two men were arguing loudly enough to wake half the estate.
The first was one of Blackwood’s longtime farmers, thick-armed and sunburned from years in the fields.
The second was among the displaced villagers who had arrived from the west.
The farmer jabbed a finger toward him.
That field has belonged to my family for twenty-seven years.
The refugee answered immediately.
We were told there was unused land beside the southern plots.
Beside them. Not inside them.
I didn’t choose where Bram sent us.
Then Bram can move you.
A few people began joining the argument.
Lily closed her eyes.
This started before sunrise.
Kael finally drank his tea.
Cold.
Of course.
He walked down the steps.
The voices quieted as people noticed him.
Kael stopped between the two men.
Who owns the disputed field?
The farmer answered first.
My family farms it.
That wasn’t the question.
The man paused.
Kael looked toward Lily.
She opened the ledger.
The land technically belongs to Blackwood. His family holds cultivation rights over approximately two-thirds of the southern tract.
The refugee frowned.
Nobody told us that.
Kael looked at the farmer.
And the remaining third?
Unworked for years.
Why?
Bad drainage. Floods during heavy rain.
The refugee pointed toward the distant field.
That’s where Bram put us.
The farmer crossed his arms.
And they’ll ruin my irrigation channels trying to drain it.
Kael looked from one to the other.
So neither of you is actually fighting over the same land.
Silence.
The farmer shifted.
Not exactly.
You are fighting because nobody marked the boundaries clearly.
Another silence.
Kael looked at Lily.
Get Selene.
Lily blinked.
Cor Aurelius?
She is still working on the road plans, isn’t she?
Yes.
Then ask her to survey the southern fields when she finishes today’s inspection.
Kael turned toward the farmer.
Your cultivation rights remain yours.
Then toward the refugee.
Your people can use the unworked land. But don’t cut into his irrigation channels until Bram and Selene agree on a drainage plan.
The farmer frowned.
And if that land floods again?
Then we fix it.
Kael began walking away.
The refugee called after him.
My lord.
Kael turned.
Thank you.
Kael looked at both men.
Don’t thank me yet. You’ll both be digging drainage trenches when Selene finishes the plan.
The farmer groaned.
The refugee laughed.
For the first time that morning, the argument ended.
Lily caught up to Kael.
You realize you just volunteered two groups of farmers for engineering work.
They wanted the land.
That isn’t the same thing.
It is now.
Lily shook her head.
You are becoming very comfortable making decisions with other people’s backs.
Kael glanced at her ledger.
And you are becoming very comfortable recording them.
That’s because someone has to remember what you promise.
That sounded more threatening than helpful.
It was both.
Kael finally smiled.
That was better than another council meeting.
Messier.
Louder.
But real.
Blackwood was changing fast enough that old habits were beginning to collide with new people.
That was a problem he preferred over empty villages.
Still a problem.
But one worth having.
By midday, Kael found Galahad inside the unfinished Adventure Guild headquarters.
The roof above the main hall remained incomplete.
Sunlight entered through exposed beams.
Workers hammered floorboards into place while Galahad stood beneath the future quest board arguing with Master Rowan.
The board needs to be wider.
Rowan did not look up from the wooden frame in his hands.
It already takes half the wall.
Then use the other half.
For what?
More quests.
Rowan finally looked at him.
You don’t have enough adventurers for the board you already asked for.
Not yet.
And you don’t have enough quests.
Not yet.
Rowan stared at him.
Mercenaries are exhausting.
Galahad smiled.
Carpenters lack ambition.
Rowan lifted the hammer.
Kael cleared his throat.
Should I come back after the murder?
Both men looked toward him.
Rowan pointed the hammer at Galahad.
Tell your guild master the board stays the size I built it.
Galahad turned to Kael.
Tell your carpenter that one day this hall will be full.
Kael examined the wall.
The board was enormous.
Keep it.
Galahad frowned.
Kael continued.
When you fill it, Rowan builds another.
Rowan nodded once.
Reasonable.
Galahad looked betrayed.
You’re supposed to support the guild.
I’m supporting the man trying to finish the building you keep changing.
Rowan grinned.
I like him today.
Kael stepped over a stack of lumber.
How many registrations?
Galahad’s expression changed immediately.
Twenty-seven.
Kael stopped.
Already?
The guild isn’t open.
Apparently nobody told them.
Galahad motioned toward a rough table in the corner.
Several parchment sheets were stacked beneath a stone weight.
Former guards.
Hunters.
Two caravan escorts.
One woman who claims she killed a swamp troll with a cooking cleaver.
Kael looked at him.
Do you believe her?
No.
Then why is she registered?
Because I want to hear the story again.
Kael laughed.
Galahad picked up the papers.
Most of them won’t pass the entrance test.
Good.
Galahad’s eyebrow rose.
You don’t want numbers?
I want people who won’t get villagers killed.
That answer pleased him.
Galahad handed Kael another sheet.
We also received three requests.
Already?
Not official quests. People heard what we’re building.
Kael read them.
A merchant wanted escorts through the eastern woods.
A village north of Blackwood reported something stealing goats.
The final request came from a lumber camp where two workers had disappeared.
Kael read that one twice.
Galahad noticed.
You’re thinking about the western corruption.
I’m thinking about disappearing workers.
Not everything is connected.
I know.
That was one habit Kael was trying to break.
Every unexplained event did not have to belong to the same mystery.
Sometimes a missing man was simply a missing man.
But Blackwood had spent too many years without anyone keeping proper records.
Now they could change that.
Accept the lumber camp request once the first team passes testing.
Galahad nodded.
And the goats?
Kael handed the papers back.
You created the guild. You decide.
Galahad stared at him.
You’re giving me authority?
That is generally what happens when someone becomes Guild Master.
You have a terrible habit of standing over everyone.
I’m working on it.
Slowly.
That’s what Darius says too.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
Does everyone discuss me when I’m not around?
Constantly.
Kael decided he did not want the answer expanded.
The entrance examinations began two days later.
Galahad refused to make them theatrical.
No banners.
No trumpet.
No nobles watching from shaded seats.
Applicants gathered in a cleared training field behind the guild building while several Black Dragon soldiers prepared wooden weapons, weighted packs, rope, and training targets.
Kael arrived expecting sword duels.
Instead, he found a middle-aged applicant crawling through mud with a sack of stones tied to his back.
Kael stopped beside Darius.
What is this?
A guild examination.
He’s crawling.
Yes.
Why?
Darius looked almost amused.
Ask Galahad.
Galahad stood ahead with a wooden staff in one hand.
Get up!
The applicant dragged himself forward.
Galahad kicked dirt beside his face.
You’re carrying an injured companion. If you leave the sack, you fail.
The man grunted.
The sack is rocks.
Today.
Galahad leaned closer.
Tomorrow it could be somebody’s daughter.
The man tightened his grip on the straps and continued.
Kael watched him reach the marked line before collapsing.
No glorious swordsmanship.
No magical display.
Just exhaustion.
Galahad walked toward the next group.
Four applicants stood in front of three water skins.
One applicant frowned.
There are four of us.
Yes.
Only three skins.
Yes.
Is this a trick?
Everything is a trick when you’re stupid.
The applicant looked offended.
Galahad pointed toward the distant marker.
Reach the marker and return. One water skin must remain full.
A young hunter immediately grabbed one.
Another applicant took the second.
The third hesitated.
The fourth woman did not move.
She watched the others.
Then she picked up the final water skin and poured half of it into the second.
The man holding it stared at her.
What are you doing?
Sharing the weight.
She handed him the remaining half-filled skin.
We only need one full when we return.
Galahad said nothing.
Kael glanced at him.
Galahad’s mouth twitched.
That one might survive.
Kael understood.
The test wasn’t about strength.
Not entirely.
It was judgment.
Cooperation.
Discipline.
The ability to think while tired.
A powerful fool could be more dangerous than a weak coward.
Neither belonged on a mission involving civilians.
Darius folded his arms.
You expected them to fight monsters on the first day?
Something like that.
That’s because you learned swordsmanship backward.
Kael looked at him.
Backward?
Power first. Discipline later.
I had circumstances.
Everyone has circumstances.
Kael couldn’t argue with that.
The most impressive applicant was not the strongest.
A broad man with an axe shattered three wooden targets and failed ten minutes later when he ignored an instruction to wait for his team.
A young Aura user sprinted through the endurance course and failed because he abandoned a simulated injured partner.
The woman who had divided the water passed.
Her name was Mara Fen.
Twenty-nine.
Former caravan scout.
No Aura.
No magic.
Good eyes.
Better judgment.
Galahad placed her in provisional F-rank.
She stared at the wooden guild token in her hand.
F?
Galahad nodded.
I spent nine years guarding caravans.
Then you should have no problem climbing.
Mara looked ready to argue.
Galahad leaned against the table.
You know roads. You know ambushes. You know how to keep merchants alive.
Do you know how to identify a mana-touched predator?
No.
Dungeon behavior?
No.
How to fight beside a mage?
No.
How to safely remove monster organs worth more than your yearly income?
She paused.
No.
Then you’re F-rank.
Mara stared at him for another moment.
Fair.
She walked away.
Kael smiled.
Galahad noticed.
What?
Nothing.
You enjoyed that.
A little.
The guild master lowered his voice.
Most people aren’t offended by being weak.
They’re offended when someone measures it.
Kael looked across the field.
That sentence felt larger than the guild.
By sunset, twenty-seven applicants had become eleven provisional adventurers.
Sixteen failed.
Galahad told every failed applicant they could attempt the examination again after thirty days.
One cursed him.
Two blamed the test.
Three immediately asked Black Dragon soldiers where they could train.
Kael paid attention to those three.
Failure revealed people almost as well as victory did.
The first official quest went to Mara Fen and two others.
Not the missing lumber workers.
Galahad gave them the goat problem.
Kael looked at the quest parchment.
You chose goats.
Galahad tightened the leather cord around the rolled request.
They are new.
It is probably a predator.
Probably?
Galahad handed the quest to Mara.
That’s why they’re investigating instead of being told what killed them.
Mara attached the parchment to her belt.
Reward?
Twenty silver if the cause is confirmed. Additional pay if extermination is required.
One of her companions frowned.
Twenty silver split three ways?
Galahad looked at him.
You may always stay here and earn nothing.
The man took his pack.
Mara laughed.
The three adventurers walked toward the road.
No cheering crowd followed them.
No System announcement appeared.
They were three people heading to investigate dead goats.
And somehow Kael found himself watching until they disappeared beyond the settlement.
The Adventure Guild had begun.
Not with a grand monster hunt.
Not with a legendary warrior.
With a farmer’s goats.
Kael liked that more than he expected.
That night, Kael ate with Darius, Lily, Grom, and Galahad in a smaller dining room instead of the formal hall.
Grom had finally stopped bleeding through his bandages.
Mostly.
Lily watched him tear apart a roasted chicken leg.
The healer said you were supposed to rest.
I am sitting.
That isn’t what she meant.
Then healers should speak more precisely.
Galahad drank from his cup.
The healer also said not to drink.
Grom stopped.
He slowly looked at the cup in his hand.
Nobody said anything.
Grom set it down.
I dislike all of you.
Kael laughed into his food.
For several minutes they discussed nothing important.
The quality of the bread.
A worker who had fallen through part of the guild roof and somehow landed inside a barrel.
Whether Rowan had deliberately placed the barrel there.
Grom claimed he had.
Lily insisted Rowan wasn’t that cruel.
Galahad argued carpenters planned everything.
Darius ate quietly until Kael caught him smiling.
It felt strange.
Not unpleasant.
Kael couldn’t remember the last time a meal in Blackwood had not become a strategy meeting.
Then Edwin entered.
He carried a sealed letter.
The room quieted naturally.
Edwin stopped beside Kael.
This arrived by courier from Aurelia.
Kael wiped his hands.
For me?
Not exactly.
Edwin handed him the letter.
The front read:
To the Office of the Blackwood Adventurer Guild
Galahad straightened.
That’s mine.
Kael handed it across the table.
Galahad broke the seal.
His eyes moved down the page.
The amusement left his face.
Darius noticed first.
Problem?
Galahad read another line.
Maybe.
Kael leaned forward.
What is it?
Galahad placed the letter on the table.
Our recruitment notice for a mage reached Aurelia.
Already?
Apparently one of the merchant caravans carried copies.
And?
Someone answered.
Lily smiled.
That’s good.
Galahad did not smile back.
Depends on who you ask.
He slid the parchment toward Kael.
A name had been written neatly beneath the formal response.
Tavian Merrow.
Kael had never heard it.
Darius had.
His hand stopped halfway toward his cup.
Kael noticed.
You know him.
Darius looked at the letter.
I know the name.
Grom leaned back.
That usually means something entertaining.
Darius ignored him.
Tavian Merrow used to lecture at the Imperial College of Arcane Studies.
Used to?
Galahad answered this time.
He was expelled.
Lily frowned.
Why?
Galahad read from the letter.
Unauthorized artifact research. Violating restricted excavation law. Destruction of Imperial property.
Grom’s grin widened.
I like him already.
Darius looked at Kael.
Don’t.
Kael looked innocent.
I haven’t said anything.
You were about to.
Galahad continued reading.
His letter says he heard Blackwood is seeking someone experienced in ancient magical structures, unstable mana formations, and relic mechanisms.
The table went quiet.
Kael took the letter.
The handwriting was precise.
Almost annoyingly so.
The final lines were short.
I am not interested in court service, inheritance disputes, religious doctrine, or being told that an object is forbidden simply because an ancestor failed to understand it.
If Blackwood has genuine work, I will inspect it.
If Blackwood wants obedience, burn this letter.
Kael read it twice.
Then he started laughing.
Darius rubbed his forehead.
Absolutely not.
Kael looked at him.
You haven’t met him.
Neither have you.
Exactly.
That is not an argument in his favor.
Galahad reached for the letter.
He sounds difficult.
Lily nodded.
Arrogant.
Grom finally retrieved his forbidden cup.
Useful.
Everyone looked at him.
Grom shrugged.
You asked for someone willing to crawl beneath the earth and examine a crystal that could destroy half your territory.
He drank.
Did you expect a normal man?
Kael looked again at Tavian Merrow’s name.
For once, Grom had made an excellent point.
He folded the letter.
Send a reply.
Darius sighed.
Kael.
An interview.
Nothing more.
Darius looked unconvinced.
Kael handed the letter to Galahad.
Tell him Blackwood doesn’t require obedience.
Lily raised an eyebrow.
Kael corrected himself.
Not complete obedience.
Better.
Galahad stood.
And if he comes?
Kael looked toward the dark windows.
Then we find out whether Aurelia expelled a dangerous fool...
or exactly the man Blackwood needs.