A Cozy Dawn and the Guild's Rising Tide

A fierce northern blizzard raged outside the window toward the north. But the grand duke's bedroom was as cozy and warm as a southern afternoon. Kailan slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. A soft warmth pressed against his chest. When he cautiously lowered his gaze, there was Princess Eleanor, sleeping soundly with her face nestled against him. Her platinum blonde hair shone like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠morning sunlight, undimmed by the overcast sky. The face usually weary from wrestling with paperwork now looked utterly serene.

She's sleeping like a log. No wonder. This little woman tackled that mountain of ledgers.

A bastard princess shunned by the imperial family. An outsider dropped into a strange world, forced to shoulder a territory alone. The two, with nowhere to lean, had somehow become each other's warmest haven.

Eleanor's eyelashes fluttered at Kailan's touch, her closed eyes parting to reveal blue irises.

"Mmm…."

Her eyes met his as she lifted her head in her sleep. The princess's cheeks flushed red.

"Ah…! Y-Your Grace. My apologies. Wasn't I heavy…?"

Kailan gently pulled back Eleanor's waist as she tried to pull away.

"Not at all. If anything, thanks to your warmth, I finally got a deep sleep for the first time in ages."

He tenderly brushed the stray hair from her forehead, locking eyes with her.

"Eleanor. Thanks to you, it feels like true spring has finally come to Wintervalt—and to my life. Thank you sincerely for coming all the way to this distant north and for always being such a great support by my side."

It was a heartfelt confession he'd made many times before. Yet Eleanor reacted each time as if hearing it for the first time, deeply moved—even to the point of tears welling in her eyes.

"Your Grace… I'm the one who's grateful. For seeing me as I am and embracing me…."

Of course, Kailan would never discriminate against her for her solar mana or her status as a bastard. The warm office where he could handle work was thanks to the princess in the first place.

Eleanor wrapped her arms around Kailan's neck and burrowed into his embrace. As her emotions surged, her solar mana resonated with them, heating up fiercely.

Whoosh!

The room's temperature skyrocketed in an instant, like a sweltering midsummer night.

"E-Eleanor?"

"Your Grace… I love you…."

"I-I love you too. I love you, but the room's getting a bit too hot!"

A short while later, Cedric, passing through the nearby ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corridor, spotted the grand ducal couple emerging from the bedroom—drenched in sweat, cheeks flushed—and cleared his throat with a mutter.

"Ahem! As expected, my lord's stamina is impressive even first thing in the morning. The day we see Wintervalt's heir won't be far off."

At the knight captain's quiet soliloquy, Eleanor bowed her head deeply, while Kailan pretended not to hear and walked on.

The grand duchy castle's grand conference room. As the vassals took their seats, Walter, the inaugural guild master of the Wintervalt Direct Guild, stood ramrod straight with impeccable discipline.

"Your Grace. And Your Highness the Princess. It's now entering the second month since guild forces were formally deployed for monster subjugation. Allow me to report the results."

Pride rang unmistakably in Guild Master Walter's voice.

"Currently, 209 adventurers are carrying out patrols and subjugations around the Wintervalt outer walls. As a result, the number of safe zones where monsters no longer appear has increased."

"Is that true, Sir Walter?" Cedric asked in surprise.

"To achieve such results with territory folk who were just farmers and lumberjacks…."

Walter shook his head firmly.

"See them no longer as mere farmers or lumberjacks. They are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now Wintervalt's brave shields and pioneers."

Walter continued, pointing to the map. Red flags dotted various spots.

"These are the areas adventurers cleared of monsters and turned into safe zones over the past two months."

The nobles held their breath, following his fingertip.

"First, the western oak lumber camp. Ice Goblins had nested there, making it impossible for territory folk to approach. But twenty-odd parties united to completely wipe out two goblin villages. Thanks to that, firewood and construction material supplies for the territory are proceeding smoothly."

Walter grew excited just explaining, jabbing at the map.

"The southern trade route is the same. Starving Dire Wolves appeared frequently, making merchants avoid the area. But an elite squad led by Hans, the former lumberjack, relentlessly tracked and exterminated the wolf packs there."

It was the very stretch where corrupt nobles had once siphoned supplies under the pretext of monster attacks.

"Now, supply wagons and merchant caravans from the south reach the grand duchy castle safely."

Cedric nodded, unable to hide his admiration.

"Now the frontline knights no longer need to divert forces to rear security!"

"Precisely. The guild has established itself as the perfect complement to the knight order."

As Walter sat with a proud expression, Eleanor pulled out financial statements and began her report. Count Rian, the trade liaison who received the documents, widened his eyes.

"My god…. I did sell the wolf hides and magic stones, but… the adventurers harvested this much?"

"Yes. The guild's pure profit over two months totals 1,000 gold."

Even after medical funds, fees, and taxes, the adventurers probably pocketed around 1,000 gold themselves. It was an unbelievable sum for just over 200 newly minted territory adventurers.

As the nobles gaped, Eleanor added,

"But what you should note isn't just sales revenue. Thanks to the adventurers defending the walls, the defense knights' regular patrols have decreased."

Baroness Clara, the military supply overseer, gasped.

"Th-then…!"

"Exactly, Baroness Clara. It means savings on knight cold-weather gear, potions, and even overtime pay. Combined, that's at least 5,000 gold in financial improvements for the territory as a whole!"

A ripple of shock spread through the conference room. They'd turned an external surplus, but now they'd perfectly plugged the internal leaks too.

The nobles rose in a standing ovation, cheering "Long live Her Highness the Princess!" Even Kailan—who'd only suggested making a guild on a whim—felt his shoulders swell with pride.

This is just the beginning. Once a business succeeds, you expand.

Kailan wasn't satisfied yet. The northern territory folk had limits in manpower. When winter returned after spring, summer, and fall, monster ferocity would surpass imagination. That was when even Expert-level knights started dying.

Damn these romance-fantasy tropes. If it's winter, monsters should hibernate, for crying out loud.

To prepare for the year-end monster wave, they needed far more heads than now.

"Count Rian."

"Yes, my lord!"

"What about what I mentioned? You didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just trade quietly in the south and come back, did you?"

At Kailan's question, Count Rian bowed with a sly smile.

"Per Your Grace's orders, we distributed flyers and spread rumors at taverns and guilds where mercenaries gather."

Kailan gazed at the clear northern sky outside the window and smiled.

"Hear me, vassals."

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"From now on, prepare to establish guild branches at every major defensive outpost in Wintervalt territory. Let's start with two."

Kailan tapped the map.

The north is so vast; with just one guild, they tire out getting to hunting grounds. Efficiency drops.

They couldn't cram adventurers from across the empire into one spot either.

"Operate each branch with identical services down to the letter: weapon rentals, medical support, everything!"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

Roën, a bustling city in the southern continent. The tavern in a back alley downtown was rowdy even in broad daylight. Reeking of sweat and cheap ale, it was a hangout for low-tier adventurers.

"Damn thieves' bastards!"

At a corner table in the tavern, veteran adventurer Gail—his face scarred massively—slammed his worn leather pouch on the table in frustration. The few silver coins inside clinked pitifully.

"Risked my life guarding that carriage, lost my right arm's function, and all I get is 90 silver!? With referral fees and taxes, I can't take it anymore!"

His fellow mercenary sighed deeply, fiddling with his beer mug.

"Bro, yelling won't help; it just hurts your throat. I took out a loan for my leg injury from the last fight. It'll take two more months of rolling to pay off the potion costs. Hell, sometimes I think amputating would've been better."

The central continent's mercenary system was pure exploitation. Taxes were uniformly high regardless of earnings, and mission injuries were the mercenary's burden alone. Risk your neck hunting monsters, end up with debt. Only a tiny elite of geniuses struck it rich amid the corpses.

As the adventurers sighed, the tavern keeper—who'd been quietly wiping mugs—slid a parchment over.

"A caravan from the north spread some interesting rumors."

The adventurers who read it snorted derisively.

"A guild in that frozen hellhole?"

"Toss it! They can't handle the monsters themselves, so they're recruiting meat shields! Who'd crawl into that death trap?"

Gail stooped to pick up the discarded flyer amid the mercenaries' jeers.

"……."

Gail's hands began to tremble. His fellow mercenary peeked at the flyer and let out a hollow laugh.

"Ha! Total scam artists! Lend dwarf weapons? Cover 80% medical!? Meat stew daily?! Man, the north must be truly doomed this year!"

The other mercenaries nodded and sneered, dismissing it as obvious bait for gullible adventurers.

But Gail reread the flyer intently with serious eyes. He alternated glances between his chipped, worn sword and his thin coin pouch.

Ten years grinding in the southern continent. His body was covered in scars, yet he fretted over tomorrow's bread.

How much lower could he sink?

Thud! Gail shot up roughly, grabbing his greatsword from his back.

"Bro? Where you going?"

"Packing my bags."

Gail downed the remaining cheap ale in one gulp and wiped his mouth.

"Screw it; we'll just fatten guild bosses then die under debt mountains anyway. Might as well get scammed in the north."

As Gail stormed out, his party members followed belatedly.

"M-Me too, bro! Inn's kicking me out tomorrow anyway!"

After they left, southern continent adventurers—plagued by debt and poverty—began rising one by one.

"Gimme one of those flyers too!"