NOVPUB
Chapter 157: Reporting To The GUILD Master
Zayn walked behind Althea, who calmly weaved through the traffic of people in the seemingly endless hallway with the grace of a seasoned half-elf.
Her face was its usual neutral canvas, lips in a straight line, but the twitch in her brow betrayed the storm brewing within.
Behind them, Kara and Elisse followed, exchanging uncertain glances while Bran lumbered on with a quiet expression, and Seren kept close to Elisse, eyes low.
Althea stopped in front of a pair of thick mahogany doors.
The golden plate engraved with the words "Guild Master’s Office" gleamed under the overhead torchlight.
"Brace yourself," Althea muttered, more to herself than anyone else, before turning the knob and pushing the doors open.
Inside, the scent of incense mixed with the smell of old paper and... snoring?
"What the...?" Kara muttered.
Zayn blinked twice, not believing what he was seeing.
There, slumped over in his enormous leather chair, was the guild master — head tilted back, mouth open, arms dangling like a marionette with its strings cut.
A puddle of drool had formed at the corner of his mouth and a stack of parchment lay untouched on his desk.
Althea’s eye twitched.
Elisse took a small step back. "Uhm."
The calm and composed elf receptionist marched across the office, grabbed the guild master by his cheek, and yanked.
"AHHHH! WOMAN, WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE SEVEN MOONS!"
He flailed for a second before finally finding his balance and sitting up straight, cheeks red from the pinch.
He looked at the group through bleary eyes before offering a sheepish chuckle. 𝑛𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝑏.𝘤𝑜𝘮
"Ah... I suppose I dozed off again."
"You were asleep while the town was under attack," Althea growled, arms folded.
The guild master winced. "Yes, well... sleep deprivation has that effect on people, Althea. I’ve been gathering reports all night. Thirty-seven cult sightings everywhere in the last week alone. Didn’t even get a full hour of rest."
That shut her up for a second.
Zayn rubbed the back of his neck. "Wait, so you knew they were around?"
The guild master waved them all to the couches near his desk.
They settled into the plush seats, and he leaned forward, the lazy expression gone and replaced with a much more serious one.
"It started as whispers," he began, voice low. "A merchant here. A drunk there. All of them mumbling about a ’salvation’ from the Demon Lord. But the thing is... no one ever saw the same face twice. Like shadows that melt back into the alleyway."
He stood and walked to a cabinet, pulling out a thick folder.
He tossed it on the table and it flipped open, revealing reports with red markings and maps of towns in the region.
"They call themselves the Half Moon Sect, but we just call them the Demon Cult. They’re more organized than any cult we’ve dealt with in the past. Coordinated, well-funded, and unfortunately... persuasive."
Elisse flipped through the papers and winced. "All this in just a month?"
"Not even. It escalated within the last ten days. Our first confirmed sighting was today I guess." He shot Zayn a glance. "Thanks to all of you."
Zayn leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "The guy... the priest that was with them. He wasn’t just some regular dark magic caster."
The guild master nodded. "Which makes this even more dangerous. They aren’t just zealots — they have real backing. Magic, training... maybe even a hierarchy."
Kara frowned. "Why now, though? The Demon Lord hasn’t stirred for over a decade."
"True," the guild master said, walking back to his chair. "But perhaps it’s not about the Demon Lord herself. Maybe it’s about belief. Power drawn from fear... or from the desperation of people clinging to a fantasy. Either way, the situation is escalating. We’ve recalled multiple A-ranked and S-ranked adventurers from neighboring cities. The GUILD as all others is officially on alert."
Bran spoke up, voice rough. "And us?"
The guild master smiled faintly. "You’re one of our strongest teams. You’ll keep patrolling Timberstead and escorting supply lines for now, but if they strike again — and they will — you’ll be the first we send."
There was a heavy silence in the room as the words settled.
Elisse leaned her head against Zayn’s shoulder. "Looks like we’re not getting a break anytime soon."
Zayn smiled softly. "When do we ever?"
The guild master clapped his hands once. "Get some rest. You’ve earned it. Tomorrow we start planning countermeasures."
As the team stood up to leave, Althea glanced at Zayn. "Thanks... for earlier."
He shrugged. "Just doing my job."
...
Zayn sighed as they left the Guild, brushing back his ponytail with a slight tug.
"I’m not in the mood for missions," he muttered.
Kara stretched beside him, arms over her head. "Same here. Let’s just go home. We’ve done enough heroics for the day."
Bran and Elisse agreed without much complaint, and even Seren, who had stayed mostly quiet, simply nodded.
Timberstead was still in a partial lockdown. The streets were quiet — unusually so for the late afternoon.
Most merchants had shut their stalls early, and even the innkeepers had drawn their curtains closed.
The cult’s message was working — fear.
Back home, the group peeled off to their respective rooms, with Elisse veering toward the kitchen.
Zayn climbed the stairs slowly, his feet heavy, and shut his door with a soft thud behind him.
The familiar scent of wood and his old, worn-out sheets calmed his thoughts a little.
He dropped onto the bed, back against the wall, and crossed his legs.
Time to think.
The attack was unexpected — it came way earlier than it should’ve been.
In the novel, the cult didn’t start moving a lot until the hero parties were already splitting off to investigate rumors.
They were supposed to stay in the shadows, whispering their doctrine in taverns and dark alleys on the low.
But now?
They were already preaching in broad daylight. Already fighting. Already killing.
He frowned, closing his eyes.
’This must be the butterfly effect again...’
He had to wonder though, did this world have some personal beef against Zayn living more than a month?
