Reborn with a Necromancer System - Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Baird True-Shot: Retired
The League’s stone hall was quieter than usual as Kai pushed the heavy doors open.

Behind the long front desk, Tiff, the yellow-haired receptionist, glanced up from her parchment with a mix of surprise and exhaustion. “You’re back,” she said, not unkindly.

Kai gave a tired nod and gestured over his shoulder, to the man stepping down from the cart. “This is the hunter we saved in the-”

He didn’t even get to finish.

The moment the hunter crossed the threshold of the League, everything shifted.

A murmur started.

“Wait-” someone whispered.

Another gasp. “Is that…?”

Baird strode through the hall like he had never left it. His cloak was still tattered from his adventures and time spent at the ravine, his face pale and lined with fatigue, but there was no mistaking him now. He moved like a man who had walked these floors for decades.

“True-Shot. That’s Baird True-Shot.”

“No way… He’s alive?”

“Didn’t he vanish a week ago?”

“I heard he was killed on a job.”

Voices rose, adventurers standing from tables, some craning to get a better look. Some gasped. A few swore. Even Tiff’s expression went slack, parchment slipping from her fingers.

Kai blinked at the sudden tension in the air. “…Who?”

Baird halted beside him and looked straight ahead as he spoke, his voice low but clear. “Baird True-Shot. Gold Sigil. Magical Archer. Formerly.”

Tiff’s throat bobbed. “Formerly?”

Without another word, Baird removed the small sigil from around his neck and set it on the counter with a soft clink that somehow echoed through the chamber.

“I resign.”

The hall erupted.

Dozens of voices collided in chaos: cries of disbelief, furious protests, and even a smattering of boos. A tankard clattered to the floor. Someone shouted about a mission in the north he was supposed to lead. Another cursed the League for letting him walk away.

Kai took a step back, completely overwhelmed.

‘That was… a gold sigil?’

The dishevelled, silent man who barely touched his food, who trembled in his sleep.

That was a gold-sigil adventurer dubbed Baird True-Shot?

Kleo moved closer beside him, arms folded, her jaw tight. Her eyes stayed on Baird.

Tiff was already gone, vanishing into the back with a tight, hurried nod. The sigil remained on the counter, unmoving, like a crown left behind by a king.

A few moments later, she returned with someone following close behind.

The man was half her height, barely reaching Kai’s waist. He was old, balding on top, with a sharply trimmed black moustache that jutted forward like a dagger. His layered robes looked soft, yet carried the weight of authority. Every step he took was deliberate. Measured. Dangerous.

He hopped onto a step ladder behind the counter and surveyed the hall with narrowed eyes.

The room fell quiet.

“Baird,” he said, not unkindly, but not softly either. His voice filled the space like a stone dropped into still water. “You’re quitting?”

Baird nodded once. “I am. And not quitting, I’m resigning. Been with you long enough to deserve the appropriate term, Guildmaster.”

The man, the Guildmaster, Kai now realised, grunted.

“Resignation. Retirement, then? Hmm. Something bad happened, then.” His eyes flicked to Baird’s trembling hands. “Don’t expect a severance. But go to Millie at the Wolf’s Head and tell her the League’s covering your drinks tonight. Drink to your retirement.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Baird said, with the weight of a man carrying a thousand scars.

The Guildmaster held his gaze. “If you ever want to come back…”

“I won’t.”

“No,” the Guildmaster said softly, looking at Baird’s trembling hands. “I suppose you won’t.”

Baird gave a single nod, and without another word, turned and walked out.

The doors closed behind him.

The murmurs surged again, louder now, like thunder building over the hills. Adventurers stood on tiptoe, others leaned from balconies. All eyes turned to Kai.

“This the kid?” the Guildmaster asked flatly.

Tiff nodded. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Bring them.”

Tiff opened the small half-door and beckoned them through. Kai hesitated, but Kleo was already moving. He followed her through the back, the hall full of burning stares.

‘This is either really good,’ Kai thought, ‘or really bad.’

The air behind the desk was cooler without the numerous bodies keeping the room warm. The stone halls quieter without the gossiping.

But as they followed the Guildmaster into a small consultation room, Kai’s skin prickled. The pressure coming off the man was immense. His mana didn’t ripple or didn’t flare. It hovered, perfectly refined, compressed like a black hole waiting to consume. It fit his body perfectly. Not a single trace of it escaping or being used inefficiently.

Kai had only felt something similar once.

From the Headmaster. The Devourer.

The consultation room was simple, just two couches and a table, but the moment the Guildmaster gestured to the empty seats with a curt, “Sit,” they obeyed without hesitation.

He stared at Kai with eyes like polished obsidian.

“So,” he said. “You want this one to replace Baird?”

Kai felt his throat go dry.

‘That wasn’t exactly my intention… I wanted to rank-up, but replacing someone…’

“Boy’s what-seventeen? Barely an ash sigil. Still wet behind the ears.” the guildmaster continued.

Tiff cleared her throat and began to explain. Elemental and strengthening magic.

Kai wanted to jump in. To say that he wasn’t seventeen. To talk about the mimic. The battles. The godlike figure he met. But the Guildmaster’s presence was suffocating. The moment he opened his mouth, he felt like he was being watched. Judged. Any interruption would have shattered him.

Finally, the man turned his gaze to Kleo.

“And her?”

“She’s a Sightcaller,” Tiff replied. “She reads the flow of battle. Dodges attacks before they’re made.”

The Guildmaster sniffed, then stood, dusting off his robes. “Interesting team. But that’s not enough.”

He dropped down from the step beside the couch and walked to the door.

Kai frowned. “Not enough for what?”

The Guildmaster turned back, hand on the doorframe, and his voice was absolute.

“Send them to the Wyvern Grotto,” he said to Tiff. “If they return with a wyvern egg, then we’ll talk about an expedited rank-up.”

The words hung in the air like a sentence.

Kai felt the chill run down his spine.

“A wyvern egg…?” he asked, stunned.

The Guildmaster gave him a single sharp look.

Then he left.

Tiff exhaled hard and walked them back to the front.

As she scribbled out a draft for the mission, the murmurs returned, harsher now, louder. Everyone had their ears turned toward the counter.

The parchment was unsigned, unofficial. There would be no reward. No rank increase. And the mission was flagged at the bottom.

~~~

Difficulty: Gold-Sigil Party Required.

~~~

She handed it to Kai.

“So, we’ll be giving you a job,” she said softly. “It won’t be paid. It’s dangerous and potentially deadly. And it will not count toward your ranking. But complete it… and, well, you heard him. That man doesn’t make promises lightly.”

The entire hall was listening now.

Two children. Linked to Baird True-Shot. Now tasked with fetching a wyvern egg.

It would be the talk of the League for years to come.

Kai held the parchment in both hands, his mind whirling.

Not the kind of fame I wanted associated with my name.

He swallowed hard. “Great,” he muttered. “Another impossible task.”

Kleo smiled beside him, her expression unreadable.

“I’m in.”

He turned to her, confused.

Didn’t she nearly die back there? Didn’t she fear it would happen again?

But she just nodded once.

“I’m not letting you do this alone.”