Chapter 148: Reckoning

Chapter 148: Reckoning

For a brief heartbeat after Sage spoke, the Guild Hall fell into an eerie silence, as if sound itself had been snuffed out. Then, like glass shattering, the silence was broken.

Voices erupted from every corner, sharp gasps, incredulous laughter, startled exclamations, half formed questions, prayers whispered under breath, and curses uttered in awe.

Just moments before, the hall had been so quiet that Sage’s breathing could be heard; now it roared like a tempestuous sea.

"A dungeon?!"

"He said a dungeon!"

"That’s impossible... no, that’s madness!"

"Did you hear him? He claimed he conquered it!"

"By himself?"

"Is this some kind of joke?"

The words collided and overlapped, drowning each other out. Some Adventurers surged forward instinctively, straining to see Sage more clearly as if mere proximity could make his declaration more believable. Others took a step back, faces pale as though the very idea bore down on their chests.

A few laughed nervously to themselves, shaking their heads in disbelief and murmuring that it must be a trick or an elaborate performance by the Guildmaster.

But then there were those who weren’t laughing. Their eyes gleamed with an unnerving brightness.

They regarded Sage not merely as a man seated at a desk but as something far more formidable, and far more promising.

Gregor stood frozen beside the desk with his arms uncrossed for perhaps the first time since meeting Sage. His composure shattered completely; his mouth hung slightly open and his brow furrowed deeply as he stared at Sage in disbelief.

The phrase "a dungeon" hadn’t surprised him, it had struck him as sheer insanity.

Mina stood motionless. Her small hands gripped Boren’s trembling ones tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. Her golden eyes widened in shock and reflected the overhead lights as if she feared blinking might cause this moment to vanish entirely. She looked at Sage not with her usual familiarity but with awe bordering on reverence.

"Petty uncle... Sage...?" she whispered faintly beneath the cacophony.

Boren appeared ready to faint. His cheeks drained of color; his lips quivered as he gazed up at Sage, the man he knew for his laziness and sarcasm, now seemingly transformed into someone beyond comprehension.

Valeria stood apart from everyone else without speaking. But her stillness was charged with intensity; her spine straightened almost imperceptibly while her head lifted slightly. Her gaze sharpened toward Sage like drawn steel, a coldness remained on her face but something beneath had shifted: interest mixed with calculation and faint alarm.

Sage remained seated on the desk watching it all unfold.

The turmoil continued to swell before fracturing into heated discussions. Groups formed instinctively; Adventurers grasped one another’s arms and spoke in urgent whispers as if fearing their voices might summon the Nobles themselves.

"A dungeon in the Guild’s hands..."

"It means we can access to it..."

"That means growth..."

"That also means war...."

"Do you realize what he’s saying? Everything changes now."

Sage scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on their expressions. He noticed disbelief mingled with fear, but beneath it all, he detected something far more potent: ambition, relief, gratitude, hope, and a hint of worship.

He saw it in the way some Adventurers stared at him, their eyes shining with an unnatural brightness. Their breaths quickened as if they stood before a miracle they were hesitant to claim. A few pressed their fists against their hearts or bowed their heads slightly, murmuring softly to themselves.

Sage narrowed his eyes slightly; a strange glow flickered within them as a wide grin flashed across the corner of his mouth before quickly disappearing.

Then he raised his hand. The chatter faltered and gradually faded into silence. Confusion rippled through the crowd as pockets of quiet formed and expanded until the hall was engulfed in stillness.

Once the silence settled completely, Sage spoke calmly, "I understand that what I just said may sound unbelievable."

His gaze swept across the room. "Some of you might think I’m joking. Others may believe I’m provoking the Nobles or outright lying."

A few faces tightened at this.

"That’s reasonable," Sage continued. "If I were in your position, I would doubt it too."

He paused for effect and then offered a faint smile. "But I assure you, I am not lying."

"You are standing before someone who has been inside a dungeon within the last three days," Sage declared. "Someone who has walked its floors and fought its monsters."

His voice dropped lower. "Someone who nearly died claiming it."

"And let me tell you something else," he added conversationally. "When I went in, I thought there would be only one."

Sage tilted his head slightly and asked softly, "Do you really believe there is only one?"

He lifted his hand to reveal three fingers.

"Three," Sage stated firmly.

The word hit like a hammer. For a brief moment, no one reacted, then chaos erupted once more.

"What?!"

"Three?!"

"You’re got to be kidding. Did He jus said there are three Dungeons!"

"Th...this...that is impossible!"

"This is complete madness! Those greedy Nobles will be using our skulls for wine glasses."

This time, emotions surged violently through the hall. Shock tore through the crowd like lightning; some Adventurers staggered back into one another while others clutched their heads or laughed hysterically, sounds brittle and disbelieving.

Gregor exhaled sharply as he turned slowly toward Sage, eyes wide with disbelief as he tried to reconcile this man with such an incredible declaration.

Valeria narrowed her eyes sharply at Sage; her gaze now held new weight and gravity.

Three dungeons, it wasn’t merely about wealth; it was power, a declaration of war itself. The maelstrom of voices intensified again, louder than before as voices filled the hall with emotion and dangerous possibility.

Yet this time, silence descended quickly.

"You’re shocked," Sage said, his voice steady. "And you have every right to be."

He let his fingers curl slowly. "For most of your lives," he continued, "dungeons have belonged to others, people who were never you."

"Families whose names open doors. Forces whose power closes them. Houses that dictate who gets to grow and who is meant to stay exactly where they are."

Leaning slightly forward over the desk, he added, "You’ve ventured into dungeons owned by others. You’ve paid for the privilege of risking your lives. You’ve sacrificed your blood and effort because someone else stood closer to the gate."

"You’ve done the killing," Sage said quietly, "while they’ve done the collecting."

"You’ve lost comrades within those walls," he went on, "and still kept paying."

Some Adventurers lowered their heads as silence enveloped the Hall; only Sage’s voice echoed through the space.

"You’ve witnessed weaker warriors drained dry by contracts they couldn’t refuse. Over time," Sage said, "you learned not to expect more."

He straightened up. "That’s why this feels unreal."

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "For the past three days, I was inside those places. I saw what dungeons truly are. I fought against their horrors. I bled on their floors."

He gestured lightly to himself. "This isn’t just decoration; there were moments when I wasn’t sure if I’d walk out again, moments when my vision faded to black and my body felt like it was tearing apart."

A faint stir moved through the hall.

"I didn’t go because it was safe," Sage declared firmly. "I went because it was necessary."

His gaze hardened as he added, "And I didn’t go for myself."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

"I went," he said resolutely, "because I refuse to build a Guild that survives by begging."

A tremor rippled through the crowd.

"I went because if this Guild is to stand," Sage continued passionately, "it will do so on its own resources. And I know exactly what many of you are thinking right now."

"You’re wondering," he said slowly, "whether I will become just like the Nobles."

Some faces stiffened at this thought—they couldn’t help but feel that way after being exploited by Nobles all their lives due to dungeons and now seeing Sage with dungeons under his control.

"Whether I’ll lock these dungeons behind contracts or bleed you dry just as efficiently, but with a different emblem above the gate."

Sage took a slow breath before saying quietly, "Greed is not something I’m blind to. I understand what possession does to people; how power consumes them; how easily ’opportunity’ turns into ’exploitation.’"

His gaze shifted purposefully, locking onto the eyes of those before him.

"And I understand what it feels like," he continued, "to stand on the wrong side of that gate."

The hall fell into a profound silence.

"I am not a Noble," Sage declared. "I am not a lord. I am not the head of a house. I have not inherited safety."

He extended one hand slightly. "I built this place because I had nowhere else to go. And I refuse to turn it into something I once loathed."

"I have a heart," Sage said softly. "And I know suffering. I will not treat you as mere tools. I will not exploit your blood while masquerading it as protection. And I will not construct an empire on the very bones of those who taught you despair."

The silence that followed felt different this time. Many Adventurers stared at him, grappling with the contrast between his words and the power he now wielded, three dungeons, three invaluable treasures.

Sage remained seated, pale yet composed, his eyes unwavering. For the first time since the Guild had opened its doors, the people in front of him were no longer just passive listeners; they were actively deciding whether to believe him.