Death Guns In Another World - Chapter 2055 - 2055: Evening Talk

Edrick, however, was not amused. “Listen well, boy. This isn’t some dungeon beast you can cut down with fire and ice. Ouroboros doesn’t fight fair. They strike from the shadows, turn allies into traitors, rot cities from within. If you underestimate them, you’ll drag this entire guild into the abyss.”

Alex met his sharp gaze without flinching. “Then we’ll have to make sure Velria doesn’t fall into that abyss.”

Edrick studied him for a long moment, then finally grunted. “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.” He turned to the room, raising his voice. “But this victory is not without cost! Four brave adventurers fell in that battle. We honor them tonight, and tomorrow—we prepare. Velria will not bow to Ouroboros!”

The guild hall roared in response, mugs lifted, fists slammed, shouts echoing to the rafters. Some voices carried grief, others defiance, but all were united in the heat of the moment.

Alex stood among them, but his thoughts were colder, sharper. He saw the way the younger adventurers’ eyes burned when they looked at him, the way even seasoned mercenaries leaned in his direction. Seeds of loyalty, ambition, fear—all things he could cultivate when the time was right.

As the noise died down and the guild began pouring drinks, Serah touched his arm lightly. “Alex,” she said softly, only for him to hear. “Do you ever… worry that you’re carrying too much alone?”

He glanced at her, then at the roaring crowd. His lips curved faintly. “No. The weight just reminds me how strong I have to become.

The night carried on in Velria’s guild hall like a storm of emotions. The victory feast had begun almost immediately after Edrick’s speech. Tables were dragged together, mugs filled with frothing ale, platters of roasted meat and fragrant stews passed around. The sound of clinking glasses and the thrum of voices filled the high rafters.

Alex, sitting at one of the long tables, was approached again and again by adventurers. Some were older, grizzled men who clasped his shoulder with respect, their words carrying weight. Others were younger—green recruits whose eyes shone with hero worship as they begged for stories of the battle. Alex entertained some with brief remarks, but he was careful, never revealing too much of what he could do. Let them imagine his strength to be greater than it was; mystery was a weapon too.

Across the table, Serah accepted a drink from one of her comrades but barely touched it. Her sharp eyes wandered over the hall, catching the subtle undercurrents others missed. Rival parties that rarely spoke now huddled close, whispering as their gazes flicked toward Alex. Mercenaries who once acted aloof now drifted nearer, as though basking in his shadow might grant them strength. Even some of the guild clerks were sneaking glances, scribbling notes as if to record his presence.

Edrick, standing at the far end, watched with arms crossed. The vice guild leader’s scowl said it all: Alex’s power had shaken the balance of Velria. He was becoming the axis around which everything turned.

“Do you notice it?” Serah murmured.

Alex tore a piece of roasted meat with his teeth, chewed slowly, then looked at her. “That they’re already leaning my way? Yes.”

“Not just leaning.” She kept her voice low, her eyes never leaving the hall. “Some of them are clinging to you like a lifeline. Others see you as a threat. You’re stirring ambition in some and resentment in others. That’s dangerous.”

Alex smirked faintly. “Dangerous to them. For me, it’s useful. The guild will fracture on its own eventually—power always breeds envy. I’ll just make sure the right people end up on my side.”

Serah’s brow furrowed. She looked as if she wanted to argue, but the cheer of a drinking song rose from nearby tables, drowning out her hesitation. Alex stood, lifting his mug, and though he spoke no grand words, the hall erupted with a roar of approval at his simple act. They wanted a symbol, and for now, he gave them one.

—

Hours later, the hall emptied. Adventurers stumbled home, some carried by their comrades, others sprawled across benches in drunken sleep. The torches burned low, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

Alex stepped outside into the cool night air, the stars brilliant above the city. Serah followed, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel. For a long moment they walked in silence, the noise of the guild fading behind them until only the chirping of insects and the soft rustle of leaves in the night wind remained.

Finally, Serah broke the quiet. “You looked… different in there. Like you were already standing above them.”

Alex glanced sideways at her, his expression unreadable. “And does that bother you?”

“It worries me,” she admitted. Her hands were clasped lightly behind her back, but her gaze was steady. “Power isolates, Alex. You’re strong—stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen—but that doesn’t mean you should bear everything alone. Ouroboros isn’t just another dungeon raid. They’re something darker. I saw the assassin’s eyes before he burned away—fanatic, unyielding. They’ll keep coming.”

Alex stopped walking. The moonlight washed over his sharp features as he tilted his head back, staring at the sky. For a moment, he seemed to weigh her words. Then he chuckled softly. “Good. Let them come. If Ouroboros wants to claim Velria, then they’ll find me waiting at the gates.”

Serah frowned, stepping closer. “That’s not what I meant. You can’t just fight this with strength alone. You’ll need allies—real ones. People you can trust.”

His eyes dropped to her, and for the first time that night, his smirk softened into something else. A pause stretched between them, filled only by the wind. Then he said quietly:

“I already have one.”

Serah’s breath caught, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming despite herself. Alex resumed walking, as if the words had been nothing more than a passing remark, leaving her flustered in his wake.

But as they returned to their lodgings, the mark of Ouroboros still burned in both their minds. The guild was shifting, whispers of ambition and fear already weaving through its members. And somewhere in the shadows of Velria, unseen eyes were watching—waiting for the right moment to strike again.