CHAPTER 49: CH:49 SUPPORT MAGE, STAND ALONE

Suddenly, Dila’s ears twitched. Her attention shifted.

"Oh! Lady Receptionist," she called out.

The receptionist—still behind the counter, flipping through stacks of parchment for other adventurers—glanced up. "Yes?"

"I was wondering... how much is the appraisal?" Dila asked, tilting her head curiously.

The receptionist paused mid-stamp. "It costs 1 Gold Sun," she said matter-of-factly. "Appraisal comes bundled with registration. Once you’re appraised, we evaluate your aptitude and assign your official adventurer class. After that, you’ll receive your own Guild Bar ID."

Dila’s eyes widened. "O-One Gold Sun?! That’s insanely expensive!"

She looked over at Fran in disbelief. "Umm... Fran, how did you manage to register?"

Fran blinked, then looked away bashfully. "I... I joined up with random adventurers before. I kept tagging along and finishing quests with them."

The receptionist nodded with a smile. "Exactly. That’s why we call her the Peerless Assassin," she added, stamping another form with flair.

Fran turned red. "I-I’m not that great..."

"She may be shy," the receptionist said, "but she’s packed with potential."

Dila then spun to face Sarios, narrowing her eyes. "Okay then, how did you get your adventurer card, Mr. Hero?"

Sarios scratched the back of his head and laughed. "Simple. I just bought it—like a cheap snack."

Dila’s expression went deadpan. "Yeah, right. Rich boy privilege."

Sarios burst out laughing. "Guilty!"

Dila crossed her arms and sighed. "This whole system feels rigged..."

Fran quietly leaned over and whispered to Dila, "Don’t worry, Sister... once we do enough quests, you’ll get that Gold Sun."

Dila smiled at her. "Thanks, Fran. I’ll count on you—our Peerless, Budget-Friendly, Future-Best Assassin."

Fran blushed harder and nearly dropped her pouch. "Wahh—w-what kind of title is that?!"

The receptionist giggled.

Sarios gave a thumbs-up.

And Dila just grinned, enjoying every chaotic second of her strange, new adventurer life.

And then—

BOOM! A loud, thundering voice echoed from the back of the Guild Bar.

"Not so fast!"

A round, shiny-bellied man stomped into view, his long, curled mustache bouncing like springs. He twirled it with one hand and pinched his thick, triangle-shaped beard like he was some kind of noble—but it just looked greasy. His coat was gold-trimmed, but obviously two sizes too tight.

"I’m the Guild Master!" he declared with flair, puffing out his chest as if expecting applause.

Nobody clapped. Not even a cough.

He adjusted his big belt and continued. "ID Registration... is now 3 Gold Suns! Mhh-mhh!"

Dila blinked. "Three?! I thought it was 1 Gold Sun!"

He tilted his head and wagged his finger. "That was before tax, service fee, guild maintenance, leadership bonus... and mustache care."

Dila’s eye twitched. "...Is this the greedy bastard Sarios told me about?"

In the corner, Sarios was frozen, pretending to become part of the wall.

Fran was behind him, half-hiding behind her own hair.

Even the receptionist went quiet, pretending to organize invisible papers.

The Guild Master leaned in closer, his lips curling smugly. "A fine elf like you... rare class... premium quality. Mmm. You’d sell for a high—"

"You finish that sentence, I’ll turn your mustache into a shoelace."

Dila’s eyes gleamed like a dagger. Her smile? Sharp. Thin. Dangerous.

The entire guild hall froze.

One adventurer dropped their cup.

Fran quietly muttered, "...Sister’s scary sometimes."

Sarios whispered, "Yeah, but... it’s kinda cool."

The Guild Master backed up a step, laughing nervously. "N-No need to be violent! I was merely speaking... symbolically!"

"Symbolically my foot," Dila muttered.

The receptionist, finally moving, handed her a scroll. "Would you like to file a formal complaint?"

Dila nodded, took the pen, and said sweetly, "Make sure to write: ’Mustache Man tried to be funny. Failed.’"

"Noted," said the receptionist.

Meanwhile, Fran was blinking rapidly again. "That guy really said premium quality..."

Sarios nodded. "He’s lucky he’s still alive."

Dila crossed her arms. "He’s lucky I haven’t turned him into a purse."

And with that, the guild hall breathed again.

But the legend of Mustache Man the Greedy would be remembered forever.

And then the mustached Guild Master raised one pudgy finger and declared with a smug grin,

"But there’s one more condition!"

He chuckled, slowly patting his big belly. "If you really want to be registered... you’ll have to fight my fighter—Evos!"

The whole guild seemed to pause for dramatic effect. Somewhere, a fork dropped. A bard stopped tuning his lute.

Dila’s eye twitched.

She tilted her head slowly, her voice cool and flat.

"Make me."

Sarios, alarmed, stepped forward quickly. "Dila, we don’t have time for this—we should just go back before they start noticing you’re—"

But Dila raised her hand.

"No. I need this."

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it cut the air like a blade.

Even Fran blinked and took a half-step back.

The Guild Master’s grin grew wider, like a man who thought he had the upper hand.

"Oho~! Feisty!" he chuckled with his chest puffed like a turkey, "I like it when she have a bit of spark."

He turned toward the back of the guild hall and waved. "EVOS! Bring your muscle-bound behind over here!"

From behind a large wooden door, heavy footsteps echoed—BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...

The ground vibrated with each step.

Sarios whispered under his breath, "Evos... sounds like a name from a pro-wrestling league..."

Fran pulled her hands tighter in her face. "Is that a name or a monster brand?"

Dila didn’t even blink. She just cracked her knuckles, one by one, as she stepped forward.

And then, with a smirk on her lips and her hair catching a breeze that wasn’t even there, she said:

"Alright, Evos... let’s see if you can actually evade."

Even Nari whispered softly inside her mind:

☆ Master... are you seriously going to throw hands with a pro-fighter? ☆

Dila replied in her mind, "No, Nari... I’m going to throw him out the window."

And the match?

It hadn’t even started yet...

But the air?

Oh, it was charged.

The Guild Master raised both hands dramatically, his voice booming with glee.

"Wait, wait, wait! I never said you’d fight here inside the Guild Bar," he chuckled, twirling his mustache like a cartoon villain. "You two should brawl... in the Underground Arena! MUAHAHAHA!"

Thunder didn’t strike, but it might as well have.

Sarios stiffened like he just bit a lightning crystal.

"Seriously?!" he barked. "You expect her to fight that two-story floor gorilla in some underground cage match?! Are you nuts?!"

He turned toward Dila in a panic. "Are you nuts?! You’re gonna get yourself killed—if anyone’s fighting that monster, it’s me!"

Fran’s ears dropped instantly. "T-That guy... is way too strong... He could pummel you like—like pancake batter...!"

Then she suddenly balled her fists, tears welling up. "I-I’ll fight too...!"

The Guild Master narrowed his beady eyes, lips curling.

"Oh? What’s this? Are you two really trying to get your adventurer IDs revoked just for helping her? Is she that worth it?" he sneered.

Sarios clenched his fists.

"Shut up, you greedy bastard! A life is more important than some stupid card!"

Fran nodded quickly, her voice trembling. "Y-Yeah! Cards can be replaced... but friends can’t..."

The guild was silent. The receptionist paused, her stamp mid-air. Even the rowdy adventurers stopped drinking and muttering.

Then the Guild Master smirked. "Ohooo~ a bold hero... and a kitten with heart."

But just as Sarios and Fran stepped forward—

"No."

Dila’s voice cut clean through the air.

She stood there, calm and quiet, like a pond before a storm.

"I’ll fight Evos... alone."

Sarios spun toward her, alarmed. "But Princess—!!"

And like a curse, the word echoed again.

The adventurers nearby gasped, whispering among themselves.

"Did he say... Princess?"

"Ohhh... yeahh... the Princess Slacker!"

"Hehe, she’s the one who face palm her face when she was embarrassed a moment ago, right?"

The room returned to chaos, laughter mixing with disbelief.

But Dila stood unshaken, like none of it touched her.

Fran, trembling slightly, tried to speak, but Dila took her hands instead—both of them—and held them gently in the middle, fingers laced.

Her expression was soft, but firm.

"Don’t worry. I got this. I won’t get hurt, okay?"

Fran’s lip quivered. "B-But you’re a support mage... and I... I’m supposed to protect you..."

Dila gave her a smile—one filled with silent strength.

"I don’t need protecting right now. I need to stand."

Fran couldn’t help it. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Her heart ached. Dila was kind, smart, and gentle—and seeing her walk into danger like this felt unbearable.

But Dila squeezed her hands one last time, then let go.

The battlefield was calling.

From the shadows, a low growl echoed beneath the floor.

And somewhere deep below, Evos was waiting.

As Dila, Sarios, Fran, and the guild crowd descended the stone staircase, the atmosphere began to change.

The air grew heavier—damp, gritty, charged with tension.

They entered a vast underground arena chamber, carved deep beneath the Guild Bar. The stone walls were old and cracked, reinforced with iron supports and glowing blue runes that pulsed faintly, casting ghostly light on the scene. The ceiling dripped with moisture. The smell of sweat, dust, and old blood clung to the air like a curse.

At the center, a circular pit made of smoothed obsidian rock lay slightly sunken into the floor—the ring. It was surrounded by steep stone bleachers, now filling up with curious adventurers eager to watch the chaos. Some leaned over the railing. Others waved snacks and coins, already placing bets.

"Does that Evos guy really plan to fight that twig of an elf girl?" one adventurer muttered, eyes wide.

"She looks like she weighs less than a dagger," someone else scoffed.

"Pfft. I give her ten seconds."

Up above, a single torch-lit platform stood overlooking the ring—where the Guild Master watched with a smug grin, hands folded and his mustache bouncing with each chuckle.

Meanwhile, at the very edge of the stone benches, Sarios and Fran sat quietly, both tense.

Fran clutched her tail tightly in her lap, ears low. "I have a bad feeling, Sarios, mister..."

Sarios leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fists clenched. "Yeah... I know she said she’s got this... but this Evos guy’s known for cracking ribs like cookies..."

He scanned the arena below.

The gate on the far end of the pit was beginning to rumble. The muscular evos guy... was about to walk through again.

Fran’s heart thudded. "She’s still just a support mage... what can she even do...?"

Sarios narrowed his eyes. "We’re about to find out..."

Down below, Dila stood alone in the ring, bathed in the eerie glow of the magic runes and torchlight. Her silver-white hair caught the light like moon silk. Her expression was unreadable—calm, but distant.

Around her, jeering voices and doubting whispers filled the air.

But she didn’t flinch.

She simply adjusted her gloves, stepped to the center of the arena, and whispered softly:

"☆ Ready, Nari? ☆"

The system replied in her mind with a sweet voice,

☆ Always, Master... let’s give them something to talk about. ☆