Vivi's number one priority was dropping [Warp Anchors] around the mortal kingdoms, but luckily, she could work on her secondary goal while doing so. Reuniting Vanguard.

  The tame, rolling plains of the Central Kingdom blurred beneath her as she headed for the first major city that she intended to drop a teleportation point in. Solace was a notable city in its own right, but she might not have made it her first destination if not for another excellent reason to visit.

  Malach, the prior Tailor of Vanguard, lived there.

  She wondered how she would handle meeting another previous craftsman. And the one she had worked with the most extensively out of all, second not even to Mae. A majority of the equipment Vivisari had worn throughout her career had been either crafted outright by the beastkin tailor or seen repairs and modifications through.

  Musing over what meeting him would be like, and over Vanguard's future, her thoughts drifted to that final announcement of Rafael's the previous day.

  That of the new Quest.

  ***

  The day before.

  "The next Quest has appeared in the guildhall," Rafael said.

  Vivi was more caught off guard than she probably should have been. The first of the mythical-tier Quests had explicitly referred to itself as stage one of Vanguard's restoration; it would have been stranger if a second hadn't appeared at some point. In all the events of the past few days, though, it had honestly slipped from her mind.

  She was so intrigued that the manaburn nausea faded into the background. "It has? What is it? And what's the reward?" The last of those questions was particularly interesting, because stage one had given them the Codex. A lofty standard to set.

  "I transcribed a copy of the Quest for my lady's perusal." Rafael pulled a parchment out of his inventory and held it out to her. "Please read through at your leisure."

  She took the paper and did so.

  ***

  ~ Mythic Quest ~

  The Restoration of Vanguard, Stage Two

  The embers rekindle. A great threat emerges. Heroes heed the call.

  With steel and fire, Vanguard once led the mortal kingdoms into an unprecedented era—at great personal cost. The peace they bought with blood has now been threatened. New and old alike must pick up their blades and hammers, else all will be lost.

  What shape will the new guard take? The remnants shall decide.

  Task:

  - Fill all craftsmen roles. {1/8}

  - Induct one bronze-rank adventurer. {0/1}

  - Induct one silver-rank adventurer. {0/1}

  - Induct one gold-rank adventurer. {0/1}

  - Induct one mithril-rank adventurer. {0/1}

  - Induct one orichalcum-rank adventurer. {1/1}

  - Induct one Titled adventurer. {0/1}

  Rewards:

  - Progress Guild Tier from one to two.

  - One item harvested from the Reaper of the Lost Harvest will be reforged into a Lv.2000 relic with no level requirement.

  ***

  Vivi read the words once, then twice to make sure she hadn't missed anything. As she lowered the paper onto her lap, a frown crept onto her lips. "It's easy again. Not as much as the last, but still easy."

  "Especially relative to the reward," Rafael agreed.

  "A second artifact, this one from the Reaper. If it's at all similar to the Codex, that's going to be a substantial help." Vivi hadn't actually needed to lean on the book's power during the breach at Prismarche—her regular mana pool would probably have sufficed, much to her regret—but she had confirmed the extent of the Codex's usefulness. It supplemented her strength in a not small way.

  "One might even infer the next artifact will be more powerful, seeing how it comes from the next Quest in the series, and indeed uses a stronger Cataclysm as a base," Rafael said. "But that it'll be at least on equal footing is the safe assumption."

  "It worries me the System is helping us so blatantly," Vivi said, remembering that troubling line of thought from earlier—that interference suggested the System thought they needed help. "But I think it makes more sense now. It's our world against the starving Other, as Remian put it. 'Even an insect from our world would throw itself upon those beasts, gnashing and biting, without reservation,'" she quoted. "They are anathema.' I doubt he chose those words carelessly. Even the Concepts fought back, so of course the Grand System wants to do so too. And I'm its best conduit." Her brow furrowed. "This is assuming a higher level of sapience for it than maybe is appropriate, though. How much do we know about the Grand System, anyway?"

  Rafael appraised her calmly, since the question was probably strange, but he knew of her 'memory issues.' "Objectively? Only what can be observed. But it is said that the Grand System was created by the heavens to shepherd us along our paths. It is of divine make, undoubtedly, but whether the gods exert their will through it directly, or whether it has a mind of its own…" He shrugged. "Nearly every aspect of the Grand System is a topic of much theological and philosophical debate."

  That was what she'd assumed. She'd only asked in case she was missing something obvious, or something well known. "No matter what the case is, I'm glad it's in our corner." She rubbed the side of her head, trying to ignore the manaburn aches pervading her body. "When the guild goes up another tier, maybe more of the vault will open up. That's also worth looking forward to. But the requirements—recruitment. I already wanted to contact our previous members, though that's something that needs to be done sooner rather than later, now."

  "Best to have the Quest's reward on hand, should another threat appear," Rafael agreed, easily understanding her meaning.

  "We'll need to decide who we want filling the slots for the craftsmen who—" She cut herself off. "Who we don't have anymore." Who died, she thought with a wince. "Or don't want to rejoin. That's still a possibility, even if you think they'll all say yes. Then Laelith is missing, and Eshara is in hiding for one of her hunts."

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  "Eshara we should be able to contact sooner or later," Rafael said. "But yes, perhaps not as soon as we want. That's not a substantial problem. A guild isn't limited to a single craftsman of each role, and it's my understanding we'll be expanding operations anyway. We'll want more than one each." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We'll need more administrative staff too. A guild takes more management than you might think; I had my hands full with thirteen members, though much of that can be blamed on the particular members they were." He took on a wry look. "I'm going to miss Allegra. Competent help is a rarity."

  It took Vivi a second to place the name. Allegra was his Vice Guildmaster at the Adventurer's Guild, the woman he'd trained to replace him. Vivi felt a sudden urge to apologize for uprooting his previous life, nonsensical as she knew it was. He had wanted Vanguard to return.

  "That's for me to deal with, of course," Rafael said. "As for the adventurer recruitment—what are your thoughts?" He dipped his head. "If you wish to discuss it now. This can wait for morning; it's not urgent. I only meant to mention the Quest so you were aware of it."

  The reminder brought her manaburn symptoms back to the forefront of her mind, and she grimaced. "We have Mae for orichalcum, and Saffra for silver… actually, she's level four hundred now. Is it by literal rank, or level?"

  "The quest specifics rank, so I assume the former."

  "Hm. Then yes. Maybe William for gold. He seemed like a good person. Bronze, mithril, and Titled—we'll figure those out later. Filling the craftsmen slots will probably be more tedious. I'll think on it." She vanished the parchment with the Quest's details into her inventory. "Okay," she said, slumping into her bed. "All of that deserves more discussion, but like you said, it can wait. That was it?"

  "The pressing matters," Rafael agreed. "I'll leave you to your rest, Lady Vivisari."

  ***

  She'd given the topic more thought since yesterday, though she hadn't concretely decided on a number of things. Finding a bronze- and mithril-rank to recruit could be trivial if she opened Vanguard to the public, but it felt wrong to pick just anybody. She didn't want to go plucking people off the streets to fulfill the Quest as quickly as possible. Prompt completion was a definite goal, but not to that extent.

  The flight to Solace didn't last long, not with Vivi traveling at nearly her maximum speed. She didn't exert herself as hard as she could have, since the effects of manaburn lingered in the background, no longer a throbbing, near-debilitating headache, but still uncomfortably present. Casting in such a state wasn't something that she found enjoyable, but dropping [Warp Anchors] and tracking down prior members of Vanguard was no longer a leisurely side mission; a slight headache wasn't going to leave her bedridden when so many lives could be at stake.

  Solace came into view, the lakeside city not half as large as Meridian, but sprawling and impressive by any right. She admired the city with interest as she floated down, identifying the crafting district by the frequency of workshops and forges. Rafael had told her that Malach plied his trade under the unassuming business name of the Hem and Stitch, but he hadn't provided directions; she would have to ask someone how to get there.

  After setting down in an alleyway and dismissing the various movement spells and [Invisibility] she'd had active, she strode onto the street, identified someone who looked well-meaning, and asked for directions. To her surprise, the woman didn't know the workshop's name. Vivi had to ask several people before someone did. She would have figured that Vanguard's tailor—one of the most skilled in the world—would have been rather famous, known to the citizenry. Then again, she supposed craftsmen garnered far less glory than adventurers. Titled were world-renowned, but each and every high-rank crafter certainly wasn't.

  But not even Vanguard's? she wondered. Something seemed off about that.

  Vivi was even more surprised when she tracked down the tailor's shop and found that, rather than some imposing, luxurious building, it was a squat two-story building nestled between other simple-looking workshops and stores. And on the outskirts of the crafter's district, near the commons. The folk walking the street wore no badges at all. Non-adventurers.

  Her confusion grew as she walked in and saw a handful of clientele inside, of the same nature as outside. Certainly not the mithril-rank minimum she might have expected a grandmaster tradesman to be catering to.

  Are there... two Hem and Stitches? I might be at the wrong place.

  The growing doubt was dispelled upon seeing one of the workers, a mouse beastkin so like the Malach of her memory that she initially thought she'd found him. But no, a hundred years had passed. Without levels to slow the march of time, Malach would be an old man and would look like one. Craftsmen ranks slowed aging, but not to the same extent levels did. Malach would look his age, unlike Winston who'd had a Title to preserve him.

  So this boy was his son. Or maybe grandson.

  He was of startlingly small stature—mouselike stature, she thought amusedly, and that comparison made her wonder just how much the animal heritage of a beastkin influenced them in ways beyond their secondary traits—and he had a long thin tail dropping to the floor along with a pair of mouse ears sprouting from his head. She felt instant kinship toward the boy, simply because she'd found an ally who shared her… 'vertical challenges.' Though she would still have to look up to meet his eyes. There really weren't many grown adults, or even teenagers, as short as her.

  He was talking to a client and jotting notes down as the bulky man in simple clothing meekly loomed to his side. She waited patiently for them to finish. Maybe considering her important goals, she should have elbowed her way through and demanded immediate attention, but even the thought of that had her skin crawling. So she waited.

  She was in a rush, but it was a self-imposed one. There was no real timeline she needed to keep to, besides making it back to Meridian for the meeting with the High King, and nothing suggested another breach would happen soon. The first had been the cause of a decades-long plot by a well-connected Duke of the Central Kingdom, and the second had been the fault of the Shattered Oracle—or rather, his echo. Perhaps another voidgod might arrive, but the first had failed to break through the boundary, and a week had passed without another one trying to do something similar. Even if there were another voidgod attack, presumably it would happen directly overhead. According to Remian, she was the tasty morsel that had drawn their attention.

  So while she didn't intend to dally, she wasn't going to shove her way into the middle of a conversation and demand immediate attention. Only an immediate Cataclysm would force her into actions that drastic.

  It took a few minutes for the boy to finish speaking with the man. He walked up to Vivi afterward. "How can I help, miss?" he asked.

  "I'm looking for Malach. Does he work here, or do I have the wrong store?"

  She would have thought it an innocuous way to introduce herself, but the boy's face went blank, then his eyes narrowed. He looked side to side, as if checking if anyone had been listening, then said to her with a suddenly unfriendly tone, "I realize it's an open secret in certain communities, miss, but my grandfather doesn't use that name publicly for a reason. If you have a project request, you should contact the Tailor's Guild. Though I'm afraid you've ruined any chance of him taking an interest now. He's made it exceedingly clear that his day-to-day business is to be left alone."

  Vivi was taken aback. "I had no idea." Had Rafael said something about that? She'd definitely forgotten quite a bit of what her steward had told her—since the man seemed to go on endlessly about various topics—but she felt certain that he hadn't mentioned how Malach was moonlighting as a commoner's tailor. She had a lot of questions, both on why Malach was, and why Rafael hadn't mentioned it. The steward wasn't exactly a forgetful person, so it had to have been deliberate for one reason or another. "I apologize," she said. "I was pointed this way by a mutual acquaintance. I'm not here for a project, but I do have personal business with him, and it's urgent."

  The boy scrutinized her for a long moment, and though Vivi's face wasn't particularly expressive, he seemed to come to the decision that she hadn't lied to him. Some of the annoyance drained from his expression, but he certainly didn't seem pleased. "You'll need to go through the Tailor's Guild, miss. That's his policy. No exceptions."

  Vivi almost shifted uncomfortably in place. She didn't like conflict, especially when she was nominally in the wrong—if just by accident.

  "I'm afraid I need to insist," she said at last. "I really am sorry. But it's important, and I promise he'll agree to see me. Can you go ask him?"

  The older teenager studied her for a long moment, then reluctantly—very reluctantly—nodded. "Who should I say is here?"

  She probably should've had an answer for that prepared. 'Vivisari' would get a guaranteed audience, but was a troublesome name to throw around for obvious reasons. An awkward second passed as she found a better response. "An old working associate from Meridian. He'll know, I think. He’s probably even expecting me." Rafael had already reached out to Malach earlier, though without saying directly that Vivisari had returned. She gave it good odds that Malach would know it was her.

  "You really should have gone through the Guild," the boy sighed, "but I'll go ask him."

  "Thank you."

  He disappeared behind a door in the back of the room for a minute, then returned with raised eyebrows.

  "He'll see you," he said with a newly appraising glint in his eyes. "Sorry for any… rudeness, miss. He tries to keep those two lives separate, and we get troublemakers from time to time."

  "I understand," she said as she entered the door held open for her. "And thank you again."

  Inside was, as expected, the Tailor of Vanguard.