Chapter 70: Star Dust Cross
After hearing this, Lance’s first reaction wasn’t to feel touched.
An extremely strange thought popped into his mind.
’Could this Witch named Elisya be a Capricorn?’
She flaunted their romance all across the continent, meticulously crafting a web of complex puzzles and clues.
Then, she’d hide away in some corner of the world, secretly hoping someone would come along who could decipher her code, just to get that sense of self-satisfaction that comes from finding a kindred spirit.
’This... is giving me a serious sense of déjà vu.’
’How is this so much like that pop superstar from before my transmigration? The one who loved burying Easter eggs in his lyrics and hiding his affection in sheet music?’
’This "if you know, you know" approach to romance really fits a Witch’s contrary personality.’
All teasing aside, though.
Lance could still feel the profound weight of the old man’s gesture—giving him such a valuable gift and entrusting him with an unfulfilled wish.
"Thank you, President."
Lance straightened his body and gave a deep bow to the old man before him.
His thanks were utterly sincere.
It wasn’t just gratitude for the gift, but also a sign of respect for an elder who selflessly mentored the next generation.
At the same time, Lance also made a silent apology in his heart.
He and Nia had often badmouthed the President in private, assuming he was the nasty old man behind all the Guild’s policies designed to squeeze every last drop of coin from the Adventurers.
Now it seemed the real culprit was someone else.
Homman, the Vice President in charge of the books—who also happened to be Nia’s uncle—was the real capitalist who deserved to be strung up on a lamppost.
Necros accepted the young man’s gratitude without ceremony, then gave a casual wave of his hand.
"When you encounter the clues the two of them left behind, the ring will guide you."
"Alright, you have what you came for. Now, scram."
"And you’d better take good care of Cecilia for me. Don’t let me down."
"Yes."
Lance nodded and turned toward the door.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob, Necros’s voice drifted over from behind him again.
"And remember to get something to eat. Don’t want you fainting from hunger on the way."
Lance paused and glanced back.
The old man had already picked up a book and was reading by the light of the Magic Crystal Lamp.
Lance rubbed his growling stomach, a warmth spreading through his chest.
"I will."
He pushed open the door and walked out into the night.
The sun had long since sunk below the horizon, and the light on the streets had become dim and hazy.
Back home, Lance quickly changed out of his sweat-soaked clothes and into a fresh, clean outfit.
He picked up the black velvet box containing the Illusory Iris Confession from the table, tucked it away safely, and hurried out, heading straight for Amber’s tavern.
The item was far too valuable. Even though Amber had said it was a gift, he felt he had to confirm it with her in person—if only to properly acknowledge her kindness.
Fortunately, his newly rented house was in an excellent location, just a ten-minute walk from the commercial district that housed the Adventurer’s Guild and the tavern.
Lance hurried along, and it wasn’t long before the familiar wooden building came into view.
However, as he reached the tavern’s entrance, he stopped short.
’Something’s wrong.’
Below the tavern’s original sign, an additional heavy iron plaque had been hung.
It was a cross forged from black iron against a backdrop of twinkling stars. In the bottom-left corner, the name of an Adventurer Team was engraved in a bold script.
Star Dust Cross
Lance looked at the plaque, his brows knitting slightly.
Having been in this business for a while, he knew exactly what that plaque meant.
Many large, long-established Adventurer Teams acquired fixed assets in their home cities, properties owned by the team itself.
It was a necessary step for any mature team’s survival and growth.
Adventuring is a high-risk Profession, a line of work where one’s life is always on the line, and income is extremely unstable.
One day, you might strike it rich in an Underground City, and the next, your entire team could be critically injured by a Magic Power surge, forcing you into months of recovery.
Without a stable cash flow to get through such long periods of downtime, a team would quickly fall apart.
That’s why mature teams often run businesses like taverns, inns, or Magic Material Shops to hedge against risk and cover daily expenses during their downtime.
More importantly, it provided security for veteran members.
Even if forced to retire due to injury, these veteran Adventurers could still find work in one of the team’s businesses, earning enough to live on.
This was the only way to ensure active members remained loyal, brave enough to trust their teammates to watch their backs in a fight.
For these businesses, the greatest advantage of hanging the team’s iron plaque was deterrence.
It meant that this shop was under the protection of the entire Adventurer Team.
Unless they were looking for a fight, no Adventurer in their right mind would dare cause trouble in an establishment under a team’s protection.
But that was precisely why Lance’s heart sank.
If Amber’s father, the Professional, was still around, his reputation alone would be enough to deter any troublemakers. There would be absolutely no need for an iron plaque like this for protection.
The fact that it was there now could only mean one thing...
’Their original protector was gone.’
Lance took a deep breath and walked inside.
The tavern was as brightly lit as ever, the air thick with the smell of ale and roasted meat, and the boisterous noise was incessant.
Everything looked just as it had the last time he’d visited.
Except, the fiery, energetic figure who was always behind the bar was gone.
In her place was a young waitress who had helped out in the shop before.
Lance passed through the crowd, walked straight to the bar, and tapped his fingers lightly on the countertop.
"Excuse me, where is Amber now?"
The waitresses at the Wild Boar and Rose all knew Lance well. He was, after all, one of their young lady’s few male friends and often received special treatment.
The waitress paused her task of wiping a glass and gave Lance a regretful look.
"Mr. Lance, Miss Amber left with the boss early this morning."
"She figured you might stop by before she left, so she asked me to hold on to a letter for you."
’Of course.’
It matched his suspicions from the doorway perfectly.
A mix of complex emotions washed over Lance.
No wonder she had brought out something as precious as the Illusory Iris Confession during yesterday’s party. She’d even used the game as a chance to reveal she was leaving.
The seemingly carefree girl had actually been using her own clumsy way to say a final farewell.