Building The First Adventurer Guild In Another World-Chapter 218: Not Good

The silence lingered long after the conversation had ended, settling over the room like a thin, invisible veil.

Outside the window, the sounds of reconstruction continued hammers striking, stones being shifted, voices calling to one another but inside, everything felt muted and distant, as if the world beyond those walls belonged to another realm entirely.

Sage lay still for several minutes, his eyes half-lidded as he watched sunlight slowly crawl across the floorboards, dust floating lazily in its path. The air was thick with the smell of medicine and dried herbs, sharp and grounding; a reminder that survival here had not come without its share of pain.

At first, neither Sage nor Boren nor Lyana spoke. They existed in a quiet space where words felt unnecessary; everything important had already been said. But eventually, Sage shifted slightly.

It was a small movement, barely noticeable, yet it carried weight.

His fingers tightened against the blanket, his jaw set firmly. Slowly and deliberately, he began to push himself upright.

Pain answered immediately.

It surged through him in jagged waves, sharp and deep, as if every muscle protested this attempt to move. Every wound reminded him that he was not yet ready. His breath hitched for a moment; his vision blurred slightly as the room tilted around him. Yet he pressed on, inch by inch until his shoulders lifted from the bed.

Boren reacted quickly.

"Don’t," he urged softly while stepping forward to place a gentle but firm hand on Sage’s shoulder. "You’re not...."

"I need to see her."

The words came quietly, hoarse but steady, and halted Boren mid sentence.

Lyana looked up sharply.

There was no desperation in Sage’s voice; no panic or urgency bordering on recklessness, only certainty that left no room for argument.

Boren exhaled slowly, letting his hand shift from restraint to support instead. "Then we’ll do this slowly," he said. "You’re not walking alone."

Together they eased him upright, guiding his movements carefully until he sat at the edge of the bed before helping him stand fully. The moment his feet touched the floor, weakness trembled through his legs; balance felt elusive beneath him. Pain flared again, sharp and immediate but he forced himself to remain upright with slow and controlled breathing.

Every step felt heavier than the last.

Boren stayed at his side with an arm firmly around his back for support without drawing attention to it while Lyana moved ahead to open the door and step into the corridor outside.

The hallway felt different now, quiet not in a restful way but rather born from exhaustion and tension. Fresh marks marred the walls: faint scratches and cracks waiting for repair; traces of smoke mingled with dust beneath medicinal scents still lingering in the air.

People noticed immediately.

Adventurers, staff, and workers all paused as Sage entered the corridor. Conversations faded, movements slowed. Some straightened up instinctively; others bowed their heads slightly as he passed by, not out of ceremony, but out of respect, relief, and something deeper that words couldn’t quite capture.

Sage acknowledged none of it. His gaze remained fixed ahead, focused and calm yet distant, as if he walked through another world entirely with his mind set on a single destination.

The corridor felt longer than usual. Each step was deliberate and measured, his weight leaning heavily against Boren’s support. His body protested with every movement; his breath grew heavier, but he didn’t waver. As they advanced, the inn’s sounds faded into silence until only the faint echo of their footsteps remained.

Finally, they reached the door. It stood slightly ajar, a thin line of light spilling into the hallway. No voices came from within, only an unsettling stillness.

Lyana hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open fully, revealing the room beyond. The air inside felt dense and heavy, as if even sound had been swallowed whole.

Valeria stood near the far wall like a silent storm contained within human form. She was still and silent, her gaze locked on the bed at the center of the room. Her armor was gone, simple bandaging and linen replaced it, yet her aura remained unchanged, quiet yet restrained and undeniably dangerous.

Nearby stood Vanthrice with arms folded and an unreadable expression while several members of the mercenary group lingered in corners, their usual confidence replaced by subdued tension. No one spoke or shifted; they were all caught in this moment together.

At the bedside stood Cassian Thaumas. His long blue robes draped to the floor as he hovered his hands over the bed, a faint glow radiating from beneath his palms. An intricate healing formation pulsed gently in mid-air: delicate runes interlocked in slow rotation while threads of light wove in and out like breaths.

The room smelled strongly of medicine, herbs, and mana.

And at its center lay Mina, still and wrapped almost completely in bandages with only her face visible beneath layers of white cloth. Her skin appeared unnaturally pale; her lips colorless; her breathing shallow and uneven. Even in unconsciousness, her brow twitched faintly as if pain lurked deep beneath the surface.

Sage stopped abruptly. His body stilled completely, breath caught somewhere between inhale and exhale as his gaze locked onto Mina’s bed.

For a fleeting moment, everything else faded away, the people around him disappeared; sounds vanished, leaving only Mina behind.

Boren loosened his hold slightly to let Sage step forward on his own while remaining close enough to catch him if needed.

Each step felt heavier than before, closer... closer...

Until he stood at the edge of her bed.

He didn’t reach out right away. He stayed silent, simply observing.

His gaze took in the bandages, the delicate rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremor at the corner of her mouth. Even in sleep, pain was etched across her face. His fingers clenched at his sides.

Finally, his voice broke the stillness, low and steady enough to slice through the silence.

"How is she?"

The question lingered in the air.

Cassian hesitated before answering. His hands hovered above the healing formation as he focused intently on Mina, his expression carefully controlled. The room felt charged with tension; everyone held their breath, afraid to disrupt the moment.

Time stretched on, heavy and unbearable.

Cassian’s shoulders sagged slightly as he exhaled, finally lifting his gaze to meet Sage’s eyes. There was no reassurance there, no easy comfort, just raw honesty.

"...Not good," he replied.

The words fell softly but hit hard like a hammer strike.

After that, silence enveloped them. No one moved or spoke. The healing formation continued its slow rotation, casting a faint glow over Mina’s fragile form while the room remained steeped in a heavy stillness, a suffocating quiet where hope flickered faintly, too fragile to withstand even a single wrong breath.