Old John had worked in the Mercenary Guild Registration Office for thirty years.
Strictly speaking, he wasnât yet fifty years old yet, but he didnât have much ambition and revealed a lazy aura comparable to that of an old man. The veteran mercenaries who usually came and went directly used âOld Johnâ.
The Mercenary Guild had always been very friendly to old employees. With the ability to recite all the weird regulations, Old John could still sit in this small management room for more than a decade.
The treatment wasnât much, but it was enough to feed a family.
He has no magical talents, and his body was too weak to do work that required physical strength. Old John wasnât very dissatisfied with the status quo. Even if he earned less, he could at least enjoy the leisure. He liked teaching youngsters and those under him usually can deal with most situation, while the more uncommon things required him to go out in person.
âWhat a shame,â he thought to himself, pushing an unopened thick envelope aside.
It was an invitation letter from the faculty of Clementine Academy.
To be honest, Old John was excited to go, but he simply couldnât go. As he got older and couldnât bear to spend a lot of money on continuous treatment, his waist problems worsened rapidly. He couldnât stand for more than two hours without the cushion embroidered with a magic array.
Not to mention being an ancient elven language professor who needed to do fieldwork.
Old John adjusted the cushion behind his lower waist, changed to a more comfortable posture, and sighed regretfully.
It was just a mundane story.
There were few jobs that could be selected, and within a few years of entering this business, Old John settled down early. Since he had a lot of free time, he had developed his interests a little. This weak registration manager often had nothing to do so he would go to the library of the headquarters of the Mercenary Guild. With his amazing memory, he would try to learn and translate some ancient elven language.
Over the years, Old John had really made a name for himself.
In the past few years, he had even successfully cracked a few chapters of fragments that few people understood. Clementine Academy paid him a lot of gold coins for this, and he used them to give his family a bright house that wouldnât leak on rainy days.
There was even a small garden where he could grow some mint that he liked.
That was enough. Even if he couldnât be a professor, he could at least make a little more money like this.
He originally planned to throw away the letter, but since the incident happened yesterday, he couldnât help hesitating again.
Old John took a sip of his mint tea, squinted his eyes in the afternoon sun, and pondered the abnormality of yesterday afternoonâŚ
At that time, as usual, he was writing a report while slowly pouring mint tea for himself. The daily reports were the same as always, so he hardly needed to use his brain and he almost fell asleep with a pen in his hand.
There was no precursor.
Like silk across the skin, a faint warm current suddenly flowed through his limbs and bones. It felt very wonderful, like he had hazily chosen something, but it wasnât like he had made any great decision.
It was like seeing a beautiful sunset on the way home. Before the consciousness reacted, the body subconsciously raises its head to look. Comfortable and natural, almost instinctive.
The feeling only stayed for a few seconds. Immediately he found that the pain in his waist was slowly disappearing.
The effect was very similar to the feeling of seeing a therapist before, but the duration was a bit subtle and long.
The therapists were very consistent in their views on his waist. The bones in his waist were naturally weak and could only be strengthened for a while with a strengthening spell but spell always had a time limit. While his disease wasnât fatal, it also couldnât be cured.
But this time, it had stopped for a whole day. Old John sat on the magic cushion, anxiously waiting for the pain to hit. The anxiety made him upset that he didnât even read a single document.
Something was wrong.
Old John finally took a deep breath, saved up the courage to stand up, and made an action that he hadnât dared to do for more than ten yearsâŚ
He wriggled his ass.
This courage was accompanied by a knock on the door. Lena, who was supposed to be in charge of reception at the front desk, was stunned at the door, staring blankly at her boss who was making indecent gestures.
Old John coughed embarrassedly. ââŚI have repeated it many times, Lena. Remember to knock.â
The young girl twisted her hands uncomfortably. âSir, thereâs a situation outside that needs you to deal with.â
âWhatâs the situation?â Old John put a kind smile on his face, pretending that nothing had happened a few minutes ago.
âA Black Chapter team that was attrited not long ago has come in for the replacement formalities. Theyâre asking to register a new member. Uh, that new member is a special situation and needs your signature. And, andâŚâ
The receptionist swallowed and finally remembered the point of the matter. A fine sweat appeared on her forehead, and her face began to turn pale.
âThe Queen of Alban is in that team.â
ââŚâŚâ
Old John suddenly forgot the issue about his waist. He jumped up like a rabbit and rushed out of the room.
Fortunately, the situation wasnât as serious as he thought.
There were no groups of guards, maids on call, and naturally there was no new queen dressed up.
There were only four young people in the private reception room of the Mercenary Guild headquarters, and another receptionist on duty who was talking to one of them. Old John nervously turned his gaze to the only female figureâŚ
The Queen of Alban was dressed in a valiant manner, still wearing her old leather armor, and a thin scarf used to cover her appearance was pulled to her chin. A gray parrot was resting on her wrist armor, and she was talking to it.
Ann Savage.
No, it should be said that it was Andrea Alastair.
Old John wiped the sweat from his head. Since the other party didnât visit with great fanfare, naturally she didnât intend to attract too much attention. According to the process, it was indeed up to him if he wanted to receive them.
âGood afternoon, everyone.â With decades of experience, Old John pulled out a perfect smile. âExcuse meâŚâ
âI was notified a week ago that Tumbleweedâs name was removed.â
The young man who was talking to the receptionist stood up, took the initiative to walk up to Old John, and stretched out a friendly hand.
âOliver Ramon, the leader of Tumbleweed. Letâs do a new full registration this timeâ I want to get that name back. Sorry to trouble you. This requirement is not illegal, is it? â
âOf course, of course,â Old John said in a daze.
For some reason, he had an inexplicable intimacy with the young man in front of him. If it werenât for knowing that the badge he was wearing was resistant to charm spells, he wouldâve thought it was the effect of charm.
âCurrently there are no Black Chapter team that claimed the name of Tumbleweed. As long as you go through the formalities, you can use it again immediately. But, um⌠Mr. Ramon, I noticed that Miss Savage is also in your team.â
Old John coughed dryly.
âYou, do you really plan to continue to be a Black Chapter? Not to be rude but you canâŚâ
âLet me pardon them.â Ann took over the conversation with a big grin and narrowed her eyes. The gray parrot flew up from her wrist and rested on her shoulder.
Old John shook his hand and took out his handkerchief, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
âI originally planned to do that, but unfortunately, our leader doesnât have this idea now. As a member of Tumbleweed, I decided to obey the instructions of our leader.â The queen dressed as a female warrior curled her lips, but there wasnât much dissatisfaction on her face.
âDamn,â Old John muttered in his heart. This situation was really trickyâ It was as incomprehensible as a beggar picking up a bag of gold, taking it back to use as a stool while he continued to eat stale bread.
âThatâs it.â Oliver Ramon nodded.
âUh, itâs not impossible⌠What about the new team member you want to register? You know, I have to understand the situation of the new member as it involves the new rating of Tumbleweed.â
Old John beat his waist habitually and took out a stack of information from the cupboard near the entrance.
âThe signatures of you and the new member are necessary. If the new member is in another team beforeââ
âThe new member is here.â The blond young man who had been gnawing on fruit in the corner approached. He threw away the seed and grabbed the gray parrot that stopped on the shoulder of the female warrior. âIt may not be able to sign well, but a pawprint is also valid, right?â
Caught in the hand of the beautiful young man, the parrot instantly became stiff and began to pretend to be dead.
ââŚâ Old John didnât know how to answer for a while.
If these people came to the headquarters of the Mercenary Guild to pick a fight, this gesture was too serious.
âIf you want that name, as long as you spend a little money, we can keep it for you.â
Facing Ramonâs gentle emerald eyes, Old John found that he couldnât even make his tone tougher. At the moment, his tone was more like exhortation than explanation.
âRegistering pets is different. Although itâs not that no one has ever done this⌠but whether itâs a hazard rating, task assignment or tax payment, the number of members is a very important indicator. You have to pay one more person, and you have to take more risks for nothing. To be honest, even if this parrot is a transformed dragon, I personally suggest that you continue to keep its pet status.â
âNo, Bagelmaurus is our companion.â Oliver Ramon sounded very serious.
The gray parrot maintained a stiff posture and let out an excited untimely cry.
âIf you insist.â The other partyâs tone was very firm, and Old John didnât plan to say anything more.
After preparing the documents and pen and paper, he glanced at Ann carefully again. âIf you have other needsâŚâ
âDonât mind me. Please treat me as if I donât exist.â Ann waved her hand quite casually.
âThank you.â Oliver nodded solemnly and took the pen from Old John.
He didnât hesitate and signed his name beautifully. The gray parrot inserted one foot into the ink bottle and trotted merrily over the parchment paper. Had Oliver not hold it down in time, it looked like it wanted to run a few more pawprints excitedly.
âThen, then I will retire first. These materials only need to be stamped with a spell mark, and the procedures will be completed soon. Itâs almost lunch time now. If you are hungry, there will be a reception to greet you later.â
âIs there anything else we need to do?â Oliver scratched his hair.
âNo, butâŚâ
âThen I wonât bother you.â Oliver Ramon smiled and shook his head.
âOkay, Mr. Ramon.â Old John felt a little bit of indescribable regret, but he could only put on a standard smile again. âIf you are going on a mission next, we can also provideââ
Oliver paused for a few seconds as he straightened his sword.
âNo, itâs just a personal matter,â he said softly. âI have an appointment to go to.â
âAh, excuse me.â
âItâs okay, sir. By the way, I do have something to ask you.â
âPlease speak.â
âIn five days, a letter may be sent here. If it does appear, then please modify the relevant information of Tumbleweed according to the information.â
âOkay, please leave it to us. Is it just five days? If it doesnât arriveâŚâ
âIt will come,â The leader of Tumbleweed said resolutely.
Oliver Ramonâs smile was a bit complicated and shouldnât belong to someone of his age. Old John couldnât help sighing, but he held back politely.
ââŚI believe it will come.â As he watched the group leave the room, he heard the young man repeat in a low voice.
Five days.
The members of Tumbleweed disappeared from view, and Old John squeezed his sweaty handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face again.
It was pretty good. If his waist still didnât hurt after five days, he would go to the therapist to check on it. If everything went well, then he could finish this matter and go to Clementine Academy and give it a try.
The bottom of the Abyss was trembling violently.
The young Pandorater had attached herself to a corpse and looked blearily at the humanoid Demon King in front of her.
[You⌠You areâŚ]
âBe prepared. You, first find a safe place to hide for a while. The wind will become strong in a bit,â Nemo replied.
Pandorater silently shrank into the hard shell behind the corpse of a superior demon, poked out a little limb of mist and continued to observe carefully.
After recovering from a period of weakness, the Lord Demon King behavior made her incomprehensible.
The Demon King first restored the illusion of a human town, and then laid on the roof of one of them, smiling at the false sky above his head. He continued chatting with her about the surface and seemed to be in an unusually good mood.
Everything proceeded smoothly.
She thought it would be the same today, but she didnât expect that as soon as she circled around, the bottom of the Abyss shook.
The slightly small human figure floated in the air, and countless dark shadows revolved around him at extreme speed. More and more dark shadows rose out of the Demon Kingâs grave at the bottom of the Abyss, gradually becoming viscous, like a liquid.
After the number of dark shadows was enough to cover half of the sky, countless shimmering white bones broke through the sand and flew towards the illusory blue sky, rushing towards the sun.
Following the Demon Kingâs gestures, they flew and reorganized in the illusory sun. The humanoid Demon King controlled them easily, as if he was conducting an orchestra.
Eventually it took on a definite shape.
Under the head-on blow of the too powerful demon pressure, the little Pandorater shrank herself into a ball and squeezed back into the demonâs skeleton. She barely recognized the appearance of the newborn monsterâŚ
Humans called them âdragonsâ, but this was too different from the dragons she knew.
The dark scales flickered like obsidian, had three pairs of eyes as white as moonlight, and the Demon Kingâs unique cross-shaped pupils. A huge dragon-like creature took shape in the air, and just a little murderous aura leaked from that creature made her almost subconsciously cut off her limbs and fled for her life.
The movement of âNemo Lightâ didnât stop.
The appearance of the brand-new creature became clearerâŚ
Two pairs of huge wings spread out in the air, covering the bright sunlight. The dark green feathers emitted fluorescence on the edges of the wings, as beautiful as the embedded dark blue stones. It hung down its neck gracefully, and the dark shadow brushed its scales like an electric current for a long time.
âItâs not a dragon,â she thought, but she didnât know what it was.
âBlack may be more appropriate,â the Demon King murmured, showing a smile.
The aura emitted by the huge creature at this moment was no different from that of the Demon King.
It was just that it didnât seem to be consciousâ After being created, it laid down around the fantasy town, with its long-forked tail surrounding it, and closed its eyes.
In this way, it fell asleep in a guarding position.
Pandorater tried hard to pull herself out of the demonâs skeleton and timidly leaned over again.
[What is this?] Although the aura had calmed down, she was still a little frightened.
âSorry, the movement was a bit loud just now. Are you not hurt?â The Demon King patted her misty limbs.
ââŚThis is a preventive measure,â he added after withdrawing his hand.
[Prevention? To prevent what?]
âPrevent me from being locked up and never coming back.â The Demon King smile made her even more confused. âThere has to be a guard here. Itâs clear to me now that only instinctive puppets work well.â
âIn two days, the surface will try to summon my consciousnessâ If they donât do it now. So whether itâs to negotiate or to kill me more safely, Oliver Ramonâs most logical next action will only be this.â
[That, isnât that a bad thing? Why are you laughing? Donât respond to them! If you have any information to bring to the surface, I can go to other superior demonsâ If they have flesh on the surface, I will ask them to spread the word.]
âGood girl.â The Demon Kingâs smile became more prominent. âBut no need. Thereâs no point in having messages brought out by others. Rather, it would be more suspicious to entrust others with the message instead.â
[The surface is very dangerous. You clearly know that they might hurt youâŚ] She held back for a long time and could only say this.
But it was useless. Pandorater was furiousâ The Demon King had undoubtedly thought about this for a long time. He even specifically created a powerful puppet to guard the bottom of the Abyss.
[Donât go.] The young demon kept repeating.
âDonât worry. Itâs just that in theory, I have to consider the worst possibility,â the humanoid Demon King said. ââŚBut I know Ollie.â
He sat down near the claws of that strange and beautiful creature, leaned on the smooth scales, and continued to look at the sky.
âThis is a date.â
The author has something to say:
Ollie: Will it be the cold Pillar of the World, or Nemo?
Nemo: Is Ollie planning to simply kill me, or did he want to talk?