Chapter 353: Just Cause

While Svane made his way toward his quarters, Ray walked briskly through the Keep's winding stone corridors, searching for his father. The estate staff bowed respectfully as he passed, though many cast wide-eyed, lingering glances at him.

Ray stepped out the other side of the manor and into the estate's private gardens, Ray was immediately hit by the damp, creeping chill of the early evening. The gardens were usually a place of serene reprieve. The gentle, rhythmic burble of a tiered stone fountain filled the quiet courtyard, and the sweet scent of blooming night-jasmine hung thick in the cool air. But as Ray moved forward, his heavy boots crunching loudly against the pristine cobblestone path, that serene atmosphere was violently disrupted. The vile reek of rotting wood and dried tar-blood that clung to his clothes completely overpowered the garden's natural fragrance.

Ray finally tracked down the familiar, booming voice of father, Lord Alistair. He was out in the estate’s private gardens, standing near a manicured hedge and deeply engaged in conversation with his right-hand man, Jude Hawthorne.

As Ray stepped onto the cobblestone path and approached the two men, Jude was the first to spot him. The logistics manager paused mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.

Alistair noticed Jude’s sudden silence and the shocked shift in his expression. Frowning, Alistair traced Jude’s line of sight. When the Lord of Greywood saw his son walking toward them, his own expression warped into one of bewilderment.

Ray ignored the strange looks, his mind still entirely focused on the impending threat of the corrupted horde.

"Father, we need to speak immediately. It concerns the Ruin…"

"By the heavens, Ray, what happened to you?"

Alistair interrupted, taking a step forward.

Ray blinked, his urgent report dying in his throat as he finally looked down at himself.

He was an absolute mess. His fine travel tunic was torn at the shoulder, soaked in cold sweat, and caked in the damp, foul-smelling mud of the Whispering Hills. Worse, traces of now dried coagulated tar-blood from the Corrupted Forest Hounds was spread all over him.

"Ah. A minor environmental hazard, pardon me for a moment."

Ray muttered, brushing a hand near the dried tar-blood.

He raised his right hand. He refused to conduct a serious conversation smelling of rotting wood and corrupted blood. Drawing a thread of pure Primordial Aether from his core, he effortlessly folded it into the rigid geometric matrix of the foundational cantrip spell.

"Munda prorsus!"

Ray cast an aether-infused Cantrip spell: Prestidigitation.

This was not the gentle, harmless magical breeze taught to initiates at the academy to warm their tea or dust their robes.

Ray exercised absolute authority over the reality directly surrounding his body. He triggered a primordial purge.

CRACK.

A sharp, deafening snap of golden kinetic energy violently detonated across his form, displacing the air in the room with a sudden rush of pressure. The spell didn't simply wipe the dirt away; it vaporized the impurities. The mud, the sweat, and the dried black tar-blood were instantly scorched out of existence in a blinding, instantaneous flash of golden light.

A couple of seconds later, the golden mist faded. Ray stood perfectly pristine. His clothes were completely immaculate and humming with a faint, heavy vibration that made the air around him visibly ripple.

Jude Hawthorne stood paralyzed, his jaw practically unhinged. He has been told by Alistair that Ray’s Wasting Sickness has been cured, and he had heard the rumors that the young lord had awakened his core. But hearing about it and witnessing it were two entirely different things. This was the first time Jude had ever seen Ray cast a spell.

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Alistair, however, was staring at his son with deep, analytical shock. As a seasoned Lord, he was highly familiar with basic cantrips. Prestidigitation was supposed to be a harmless parlor trick, a minor manipulation of sensory effects. But the spell Ray had just cast possessed a terrifying power that standard cantrip entirely lacked. It was a controlled explosion perfectly contained by absolute will.

"Right, as I was saying, I need to speak with you, Father. It is urgent."

Ray continued, completely unfazed by the shockwave he had just produced.

Jude violently shook his head, snapping out of his stupor. He took a respectful step backward.

"My Lords, I will take my leave to grant you privacy…"

"Stay uncle Jude, you help my father manage the domain's logistics and its industry. You coordinate the personnel, the caravans and supply lines. You need to hear this just as much as my father does."

Ray said, his voice carrying the authority of a young Lord.

Jude stopped, exchanging a quick, serious glance with Alistair. The Lord of Greywood nodded slowly, recognizing the absolute gravity in his son’s tone.

"Speak, Ray, What has happened?"

Alistair said, his voice dropping an octave.

"I have bad news, we must immediately suspend all Whisper Stone mining operations at the Ruinstone site. Send riders to recall the scout teams and lock down the perimeter."

Ray stated plainly.

Alistair’s brow furrowed heavily.

"Suspend the mining? Ray, that site has been a big help in funding our expansion. To halt it without just cause…"

"There is just cause and it is a horde of corrupted beasts."

Ray cut in.

He quickly and efficiently laid out the intelligence he had gathered, carefully omitting the part where he and Svane had nearly died engaging the beast pack in brutal hand-to-hand combat. He described the hyper-dense concentration of the beasts, listing the giant Dire Wolves, the tar-blooded Forest Hounds, the Razorbacks, the troop of massive Silverbacks and many more.

"They are not the standard mutations that wander the outskirts of the Hills. They are corrupted, significantly stronger, and they are operating with terrifying tactical synergy. I counted at least forty beasts, all commanded by a sentient, dark entity."

Ray explained.

Alistair felt a sudden, sharp spike of ice in his chest. The father in him realized, with horrifying clarity, that his youngest son had just been within striking distance of an army of nightmares. A cold fury threatened to rise within him, but he ruthlessly suppressed it. Ray had not gone out looking for a war; he had merely scouted a mining site and stumbled upon a catastrophe. Alistair forced the panicked father down and adopted the cold, calculating demeanor of Lord Greywood.

"Forty corrupted beasts… You have seen these beasts with your own eyes. Can our garrison take on these creatures?"

Ray shook his head immediately.

"No. The Vance mercenaries are a capable troop, and our Greywood guards are brave, but they are utterly unequipped for this. Conventional steel will barely scratch their corrupted armor, and their acidic blood will melt our standard shields. We lack the power required to break a corrupted horde of that size. It would be a slaughter."

Silence descended on the garden as the heavy reality of the situation settled over the three men. The only sound remaining was the distant, oblivious splashing of the courtyard fountain, a stark contrast to the impending bloodshed they were now discussing.

"Then we must look outside our own force. We will issue a formal request to the Adventurer’s Guild."

Alistair declared smoothly, his political acumen taking the reins.

"The Adventurer's Guild? Father, the local branch in Whisper Town has been defunct and boarded up for years. The nearest active Adventurer’s Guild is leagues away."

Ray said as he blinked, his focus breaking into genuine surprise.

"It was closed, yes. Until very recently."

Alistair smiled, a cunning, predatory glint in his eye. He stepped closer, placing a hand on Ray's shoulder.

"When Vailes Vance and I signed our partnership to develop the Greywood Domain, he made a series of promises. One of those promises involved leveraging his influence within the merchant circles and the political courts of Luminis. Vailes personally petitioned the Adventurer’s Guild Headquarters in the capital to reopen the Whisper Town branch."

"And it worked?"

Ray asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Vailes Vance rarely fails to get what he wants. The branch quietly reopened its doors just last month. They have already received a small influx of wandering sellswords and registered adventurers looking to capitalize on our domain's development."

Jude chimed in with a slight smirk.

"Exactly, we will be their first major client. I will have Jude draft the paperwork tonight. We will post a High-Level Subjugation Commission. A bounty large enough to draw the most capable adventurers currently residing in town. If our guards cannot clear the Ruinstone mining site, we will pay professionals to do it for us."

Alistair said as he looked at Ray and Jude with determination.

Ray stood perfectly still, processing the information.

An actual Adventurer's Guild,since the moment I transmigrated into this world, my life has been nothing but grueling survival calculations, magical theory-crafting, and navigating high-stakes politics. But the Guild... that is a legendary pillar of every fantasy story I ever read and acted in. Walking through those doors, handing in a High-Level Commission, and hiring real adventurers...

Ray thought with the realization sparking a genuine thrill in his chest.

"I will work with you in drafting the commission, uncle Jude. I also want to be the one to give the request to the guild tomorrow."

Ray said, a faint, eager smile touching the corner of his lips.