The three moons hung high above Greyvale, a silent trinity casting pale silver, dull blue, and faint crimson light over the city.
Their glow washed over tiled roofs and crooked spires, illuminating narrow alleys and sleeping districts, transforming the city into sothing ethereal, as if it existed within a dream rather than under the weight of reality.
Valeria perched on the edge of the headquarters roof, one knee drawn up while her other leg dangled freely. The wind playfully tugged at her crimson hair, lifting strands before letting them fall back against her back.
Below her, the compound slumbered uneasily. Torches flickered in the courtyard as guards shifted duties with quiet efficiency. Sowhere in the distance, laughter floated from a tavern, thin and fleeting.
She didn’t look down; her gaze was fixed on the horizon where the jagged city walls t the moonlit sky.
It had been a long day, or longer still, a prolonged turning of fate.
For the first ti since joining the Adventurer Guild and uttering words that tasted like rust and ash in her mouth, Valeria allowed herself to be still. Just her on that rooftop, beneath those moons, carrying the weight of an irreversible decision.
With a slow exhale, she murmured to herself, "So this is what it ans to be trapped without chains."
She had known it from the mont she spoke those words aloud: "I’ll beco an Adventurer."
Those words hadn’t been forced from her by fear or pain; they erged instead from calculation and responsibility, the quiet cruelty of leadership. That realization unsettled her most deeply: she hadn’t been broken into submission; she had chosen this path.
And that choice bound her tighter than any shackle ever could. Valeria flexed her fingers, a faint ache in her knuckles reminding her of the rule book she had torn apart earlier that day, a futile gesture in hindsight.
Rage without an outlet; law had already been spoken and absorbed into public consciousness. Paper was never truly binding.
It was reputation, eyes watching, and knowing every step she took would ripple outward, affecting not just herself but Mina, Vanthrice, and countless won who had bled and survived under her banner.
She had built this rcenary group from nothing, from scavenged weapons and sheer desperation, through nights when survival felt like a coin toss with dawn far from guaranteed. She carved their reputation through honored contracts and erased enemies, through discipline and relentless strength.
That reputation fed them; it protected them; it gave them leverage in a world that devoured the weak. Yet now that sa reputation felt like a blade at her throat.
"Well played," she thought bitterly.
Sage had never threatened or insulted her directly; he simply crafted a situation where violence beca ineffective, a scenario where brute force would only destroy what she aid to protect.
It infuriated her, and worse, it impressed her.
Valeria had faced generals, warlords, and beasts capable of decimating entire platoons. She understood strength and respected it. But this... this was a different kind of battlefield.
One she had entered without fully grasping the implications, led there by emotion and a little sister who didn’t yet realize how harsh the world could be.
Her jaw tightened.
Mina.
Valeria’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly as her thoughts turned to her sister. Mina was safe, truly safe. Safer than she had been in years.
The Guild wasn’t perfect, no human-made structure ever is, but it offered stability. Predictability. Fairness in ways that the wider world often neglected.
Mina had friends now and a sense of purpose. A system that rewarded effort instead of exploiting it. Valeria hated that she could see this so clearly. Hated that a man had built it.
The disgust lingered, deep and instinctive, a scar that never quite faded. n had taken enough from her: trust, innocence, certainty. That hatred wasn’t sothing she wore lightly or flaunted for effect; it was earned through monts she rarely allowed herself to rember.
And yet, here she was, agreeing to work within a system designed by one.
The realization weighed heavily on her chest, not because she feared what it said about her strength but because she understood the cost: pride, identity, the comfort of absolutes, the simplicity of never.
Freedom, she was learning, wasn’t rely the absence of constraint; it was the burden of choosing which constraints to accept.
Valeria leaned back on her hands and gazed up at the moons. The crimson one, the smallest, cast a faint glow reminiscent of blood-soaked battlefields and banners snapping in war winds.
The blue moon appeared calm and distant while the silver one observed everything with cold impartiality. She wondered which moon Sage resembled most.
"You’re deep into this now." She admitted silently, deeper than you planned. She could leave soday, not now, but eventually.
She could fulfill the conditions: fifty five-star missions, one hundred four-star missions, three hundred lower-tier tasks. With her strength and her group’s support, it was possible, difficult but achievable.
Yet even as these calculations unfolded in her mind, another realization followed closely behind.
By the ti she completed those tasks, leaving would no longer be an option for her.
The won under her command would adapt; they would grow accustod to stability, the steady flow of work and protection from an institution that valued results over favoritism.
The city would begin to associate her not just with rcenary contracts but with the Guild itself. Her identity would shift whether she wanted it to or not.
A cage was already forming, not made of iron but woven from opportunity.
Valeria let out a quiet laugh devoid of humor, it was almost impressive how seamlessly Sage had orchestrated this trap without force; he simply aligned incentives so precisely that refusal beca irrational.
That was the most dangerous kind of trap.
Just then, soft footsteps echoed behind her.
She didn’t turn; she already knew who it was. The weight of the presence was familiar, light and unguarded.
For a mont, Mina remained silent. She climbed up beside her sister with careful movents, feeling the cool tiles beneath her palms.
She sat close, closer than Valeria usually allowed anyone, and leaned her shoulder gently against Valeria’s arm. The contact was small and unassuming, yet Valeria felt it nonetheless.
"Can’t sleep?" Mina asked quietly.
Valeria shook her head once. "Neither can you."
Mina shrugged, her gaze lifting toward the moons above. "Too much has happened lately."
That was an understatent. They sat together in comfortable silence, one that didn’t demand to be filled. Mina swung her legs idly, her heels tapping softly against the edge of the roof.
After a while, Mina broke the quiet again. "Are you angry at ?"
The question was soft and careful.
Valeria closed her eyes for a mont. "No," she replied sincerely. "I was never angry at you."
Mina hesitated before asking, "Then... are you angry at him?"
Valeria opened her eyes and stared out at the city once more.
"Yes," she admitted honestly. "Very much so. I truly wish I could tear him apart and feed him to the beasts in Evergreen Mountain Range."
Mina nodded as if this made perfect sense to her. Then she tilted her head slightly, studying Valeria’s profile.
"But," Mina said slowly, "you’re also thinking a lot."
Valeria huffed quietly in response. "You always notice too much."
Mina grinned faintly. "You taught to."
That earned a reluctant smile from Valeria as they sat there, sisters frad by moonlight and rooftops in a city blissfully unaware of how close it had co to being torn apart.
Finally, Mina spoke again, her voice softer than before. "Sis?"
"Yes?"
Mina hugged her knees to her chest, still gazing at the sky. "Do you think... do you think it’s really that bad?"
Valeria didn’t answer right away; thoughts of the Guild Hall and its rule book flooded her mind. She rembered Sage, not triumphant or cruel but focused and patient, as if he were already strategizing ten steps ahead to build sothing larger than any one person could create.
She thought of Mina’s laughter near the mission board and of gold coins earned fairly, a system that worked despite its manipulations.
"No," Valeria finally said after weighing it all carefully. "I don’t think it’s that simple."
Mina smiled just a little at that remark. After a mont’s pause, she leaned closer and spoke again in a small but steady voice that carried more weight than she realized.
"So cages aren’t made of iron," Mina said softly. "They’re made of opportunity."
Valeria stood frozen, the words echoing in her mind with an unsettling clarity that felt almost tangible.
Slowly, she let out a breath as she looked at Mina and said. "When did you start learning such deep words?"
Mina giggled softly. "Well...I learned it from petty uncle Sage."
Valeria raised an eyebrow but she didn’t say anything. And for the first ti that night, she found herself laughing, not out of bitterness or anger, but with a quiet acceptance that ca from truly grasping just how deep the ga really was.
The three moons continued their silent vigil as the city slumbered on, blissfully unaware that beneath their glow, the world had shifted, subtly and irrevocably.
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A/N: Everyone this is the end of volu one. Thank you all for the support and love, I really appreciate it.
Volu 2 will be dropping tomorrow. To properly thank you all for the support, four Chapters will be uploaded to kickoff volu 2.
Once again thanks for the support. And you can drop a little gift for the end of volu one as a sign of celebration.
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