Journey to Planar World

Deep within the innermost part of the Guild’s headquarters lay a spacious room that radiated a quiet sort of luxury. The floor was covered in thick crimson velvet carpet that swallowed the sound of footsteps whole, while the walls were lined with towering mahogany bookshelves that climbed all the way to the ceiling, filled with ancient scrolls and historical records of Orario.

A large desk of black oak stood firmly at the center of the room, illuminated by a crystal magic lamp that hung above it, casting an elegant golden glow that was nonetheless bright enough to read fine documents by.

Seated behind that desk was an Elf whose appearance stood in sharp contrast to his race’s usual image of slender, athletic grace.

Royman Mardeel, the Guild Master, had a stout, round body, with short legs that barely grazed the floor when he sat.

His white hair was combed neatly back, contrasting with his high-quality black suit, whose gold stitching quietly declared a status far above that of any ordinary Guild employee. His round face wore a serious expression.

Royman was hunched forward, studying a stack of documents with careful green eyes, until a knock at the door broke the silence of the room.

*TOK-TOK-TOK!*

”Come in.”

The heavy double doors swung open slowly to reveal the figure of Rose Fannett.

The long red-haired Werewolf staff member stepped inside with an easy grace, the heels of her shoes tapping against the wooden floor in a steady rhythm. She carried a new stack of files that looked considerably thick.

”Guild Master. These are the final reports from the various betting venues affiliated with the Guild across all of Orario.” Rose announced, setting the stack down neatly on the desk.

Royman set down his expensive quill and began turning through the documents page by page. His eyes moved quickly down the columns of figures, skipping nimbly from one row to the next.

As the profit margins revealed themselves, margins that could only be described as astronomical, his lips slowly curved into a wide smile he had no hope of hiding. His round cheeks rose, narrowing his eyes with pure satisfaction.

The outcome of this War Game had exceeded anyone’s expectations. Given Apollo Familia’s overwhelming dominance on paper, more than ninety-five percent of Orario’s residents and adventurers had placed their money on the Sun God’s victory. Odds that had climbed as high as 20:1 reflected just how completely the public had believed in Apollo Familia.

Yet history had just recorded a dramatic turning point. Hestia Familia had emerged as the sole victor. As a result, nearly everyone who had bet lost their money in an instant, having been far too confident they were collecting easy winnings.

For the Guild, this was an unexpected windfall, proving once again that in this world, nothing could truly be predicted. Money was flowing into the Guild’s coffers like a river breaking its banks.

Watching Royman’s satisfaction nearly bubble over, Rose gave a small, quiet cough, her voice calm but carrying a gentle warning. ”Guild Master... I would suggest you look at page five immediately.”

A cold premonition crept up the back of Royman’s neck. Following the Werewolf girl’s advice, he skipped over the remaining pages and hurriedly flipped to page five.

The paper crinkled sharply in his hands. At once, his green pupils contracted to pinpoints, then expanded with shock.

”W-wait... what is this?!” Royman stammered, his voice trembling as he read the topmost line printed in bold ink. ”Solo Leveling... he bet thirty million Valis on Hestia Familia?!”

His hands shook as he counted the zeroes in the winnings column. His short fingers pressed against the paper as though he could erase the numbers by force.

”And at 20:1 odds... he won six hundred million Valis?!”

Royman crumpled the edges of the paper in his grip, his eyes bulging as though they were trying to escape his face. His breathing grew short and heavy.

There had indeed been a small handful of people and gods who had bet on Hestia Familia, but their wagers had averaged only a few thousand Valis each. It was fair to say that aside from the Guild itself, Charlie was the single private party who had profited most massively from this War Game.

This was the biggest hole in an otherwise perfect harvest.

Rose, watching her superior’s behavior, could only sigh deeply, long accustomed to these dramatic reactions.

”Guild Master, isn’t your reaction a touch excessive? It is ’only’ six hundred million Valis. Compared to the fifty billion Valis in net profit our betting venues generated today, that amount is nothing at all. A single drop in the ocean.”

Royman turned to Rose with a reddened face, his breath coming in short bursts as though he had just run a marathon.

”Nothing at all?! Six hundred million Valis is more than most Familias will ever have, Rose! That is serious capital! Losing even a single coin is an insult to my wallet!”

He slammed his short fist down on the desk, making the ink bottle rock in place.

”Every Valis that leaves the Guild’s coffers without passing through my hands is a tragedy! That is the blood and sweat of the Guild!”

Rose looked at him flatly, entirely unmoved by the outburst. She folded her arms across her chest.

”So, are you saying the Guild will refuse to pay Solo Leveling his winnings?”

”...”

Royman fell silent. The air in the room grew heavy.

The expression on his face shifted dramatically, contorting as though he had just been told his own mother had remarried his most despised childhood classmate. The muscles in his face twitched against some deep inner suffering.

But as the head of the highest organization in Orario under Ouranos, his reason still functioned. He knew exactly who they were dealing with. Solo Leveling was not the kind of adventurer who could be intimidated.

”P-pay it...” he said in a voice barely above a whisper, as though each word was drawing something vital out of him. ”We still have to pay. The reputation and integrity of the Guild are everything. If we cheat an adventurer as powerful as him... that would not end well. It could start a war.”

Royman leaned back in his chair, looking deflated and thoroughly heartbroken, his shoulders dropping by several inches. He stared up at the ceiling, running silent calculations in his head about how many of his personal luxuries he would need to sacrifice to offset this loss.

Rose, meanwhile, simply noted down the instruction with a thin smile that said everything.

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