The words had barely left Leo's mouth when Ranna's head snapped toward him, her gaze drilling into his.
"You—" she started, her voice sharp, almost breathless. "What did you just say?"
Leo hardly had time to blink before Ranna seized Cris by the collar again and dragged him inside, shoving the door shut behind them with a resounding thud. The wooden frame groaned under the impact, dust shaking loose from the rafters.
Her grip on Cris slackened as she turned toward Leo.
Then—
Grab.
Leo barely had time to react before Ranna's fist twisted into the fabric of his shirt, yanking him forward. His breath hitched.
Her face was close now—too close—eyes burning with something he couldn't place. Shock? Suspicion? Fear?
"What the hell did you just say?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper, but somehow worse because of it.
Leo coughed slightly, adjusting to the new lack of personal space. "Ranna—what's wrong with you?"
A sharp tsk escaped her lips, and just as quickly as she'd grabbed him, she shoved him away.
Leo stumbled backward into his chair, landing hard enough that it nearly tipped over. His hands caught the table at the last second, fingers curling against the wood.
From the floor, where he had unceremoniously landed, Cris let out a harsh exhale.
"You idiot," Cris muttered, shaking his head. "You're trying to get yourself killed." He stopped. His breath caught—just for a second.
Leo tilted his head, brow furrowing. "How do you figure?"
Cris didn't say anything else.
Meanwhile, Amanda had moved. She settled into the chair across from him, her presence grounding the room in a way no one else could. The warm afternoon light caught her face, and something softened in her features as she exhaled.
"I'm happy to hear that," Amanda said finally, her voice quiet yet firm. "If it's truly what you want."
She held his gaze for a long moment before sighing, a small, wistful smile touching her lips.
"But, Leo—be careful about joking around, especially regarding quests." Her voice gentled, though a thread of warning still laced through it. "The situation we're in… It's not one where you can just throw words like that around."
Leo opened his mouth, but Ranna cut in before he could speak.
A heavy sigh left her, and she ran a hand through her dark hair, pushing it back with a frustrated huff.
"My bad." She exhaled deeply, shaking her head. "That was rude of me."
Leo raised an eyebrow. That had to be the first time Ranna had ever outright apologized.
Her fingers drummed once against the side of her leg before she crossed her arms. Her voice, though quieter now.
"Amanda's request is well-known," she admitted. "Very well-known. Especially in the capital."
Amanda's posture straightened slightly.
"A lot of powerful people—system users, mercenary groups, even noble-backed guilds—have tried to complete it." Ranna's voice darkened. "Most of them died trying."
Cris flinched slightly at that, looking away.
Ranna continued.
"The rest?" She scoffed. "They got too preoccupied with the ongoing System Quest event to bother finishing the job."
Then she turned her full attention back to Leo, her gaze sharper than ever.
"Telling us that you killed the Orc Lord…" She paused, then exhaled sharply. "And that you cleared the Orc Dominion…"
Her voice trailed off, and something in her expression shifted.
She went still.
Slowly, like a realization creeping over her.
Her arms uncrossed, her weight shifting ever so slightly.
"…is like telling the world that you're a system user," she finished voice barely above a whisper.
The air in the room seemed to thicken.
Amanda inhaled sharply. Cris stopped fidgeting.
And Leo?
Leo simply grinned.
Ranna stared at Leo's grin for a beat longer, something unreadable flashing in her eyes—skepticism, calculation… maybe even fear. Then, just as quickly, she tore her gaze away, shook her head, and let out a slow, heavy breath.
"This isn't something we can talk about here," she muttered. Her voice, though even, had taken on a clipped urgency. "Come with me."
Leo opened his mouth again—probably to say something reckless—but Ranna had already turned, her boots thudding against the old farmhouse floor as she strode toward the door.
"No questions. Just move."
Cris fell in behind her with surprising obedience, though his steps were stiff, uncertain. Leo caught the way the younger man threw one last glance toward Amanda like he was trying to understand what exactly he'd just walked into.
Amanda hesitated. The wind brushed in through the open doorway, fluttering the edge of the curtain.
Their eyes met. Hers were full of a thousand things he couldn't name. Regret. Curiosity. Fear.
And something else.
He nodded, just once.
Amanda stepped forward.
They followed.
Outside, the sun had dipped just low enough to stretch the workers' shadows long across the fields. Gold and orange painted the air like a gentle fire, but the mood had shifted. The people in the fields—strong, sweat-worn, and tan from years of honest work—glanced up from their harvest with furtive, uncertain eyes.
Some watched openly. Some didn't dare to.
Others never looked up at all.
Not out of rudeness.
Out of fear.
No one spoke.
The short walk to the office—felt longer than it was.
When they reached the door, Ranna gave it a hard knock with her knuckles out of habit, then pushed it open.
Cris slipped inside without a word, moving to lean against the far wall like he wasn't sure what else to do with his limbs. Leo noticed he kept his hands loose at his sides, but not too far from his hip, like he hadn't fully decided whether this was a conversation or a standoff.
The room smelled faintly of old wood, parchment, and the faintest hint of some metallic ink—something magical, still lingering in the walls.
Ranna went directly to her desk.
She didn't sit.
Instead, she yanked open a drawer and began rummaging through it with increasingly impatient shoves of her hand.
Papers shifted. The unmistakable clink of vials brushed against each other. At one point, a sealed black envelope was pulled out, examined, and tossed aside without a word.
Amanda stood by the door, unmoving. Her expression was distant now like she had retreated into herself entirely. The moment Leo had spoken those words back in the farmhouse, something about her had changed. Not fear, exactly. Not anger.
Something quieter. Deeper.
Maybe the weight of a truth long avoided is finally caught.
And Leo?
He just watched.
Calm. Still.
The storm behind the smile.
Finally, Ranna stopped.
Her fingers wrapped around something. She drew it out slowly—carefully.
A key.
Bronzed. Intricately engraved, each etching a swirl of runes that shimmered faintly in the low light. It pulsed—not with heat, but a subtle, constant energy, like it was alive and waiting.