Alistair activated his Lightning Dash ability and rushed towards the marsh boar, holding his sword firmly in his hand. "Lightning Strike!"

As his sword collided with the boar, a huge crackling sound like thunder emanated around the area, confusing the beast and allowing Alistair to deliver the finishing blow. It was difficult to tell where he had to strike as the boar was covered in moss and swamp grass, making it difficult to tell where its legs ended and the chest began.

But his estimate had been correct, and the beast fell limp to the ground.

[You've killed <Swamp Boar – Level 25>. You've gained + 125 exp.]

[Congratulations! You've reached Level 35.]

This is the third monster I've encountered on the way back to Sunglow. Thankfully, it's not an evolved monster, but a few more levels and it could have been. I need to inform the Guildmaster of this immediately.

He could already see the stone wall peeking out at the end of the road. It was a relief because travelling on a horse for two days in a row while constantly looking for monsters was tiring. It wasn't so bad on the way back when he only had to worry about himself. But watching over Milo, who was half-dozing the whole way back, exhausted Alistair.

But the door to the bakery is now secure, so Melina should be safe.

He didn't quite understand why he worried so much about the girl. The kitchen had a door that could be locked at night, so his watching over her day and night was definitely an overkill. Watching Sienna was merely an excuse—the monster hadn't shown any signs of aggression, and resident elves had already spread the word that wyrms were common pets among elves.

No, it was only natural that I repay them after I broke that door. A nobleman must always take responsibility for his actions.

However, Alistair couldn't deny that the thought of not spending time in the bakery anymore made him sad. He enjoyed his short time there, watching how Melina would prepare dough and pastries. Her face lit up whenever she created something new. Not to mention the privilege of eating the goodies while they were still warm.

Shimmertart had instantly become his favorite dessert. Alistair was convinced that nobody else could make it the same way Melina could, and he'd be ready to pay any amount of money to eat it again.

But Melina said that she couldn't keep making them because feyfruit would run out soon. If only there were a way to get more of it…

"Welcome back, Captain Sinclair!" Barrett greeted him at the entrance gate.

"Good day, Barrett. I need to speak to the Guildmaster," Alistair said, begrudgingly waving away the thoughts of the delightful dessert.

"She was patrolling on top of the wall, some while back. I think she might return to this point soon," Barrett said, then arched his eyebrow. "Did something happen on the way?"

"Three boars on the way back, two on the way to Pertia, along with a pack of nightshade wolves."

Barrett visibly shuddered. "Ugh! I hate those things. Nimble little bastards. One bite and you're done for. Odd that there are so many of them around. Didn't you encounter another pack when you were escorting Master Gilbert and Miss Melina?"

"Yes, and that's what worries me. The monster activity is incredibly high."

Barrett scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It'll always be high around Sunglow when compared to other places, but i can't deny it has been higher than normal. Oh, here comes the Guildmaster."

Guildmaster Arianne was walking along the outside of the wall, making Alistair wonder if she had jumped down from it at some point. He'd seen her do it once, landing nimbly on her feet like a cat. He didn't dare to repeat the stunt, being pretty sure that the weight of his armor combined with the height of the fall would certainly shatter his kneecaps.

"You have returned, Captain Sinclair. Very good. I have a task for you," she said without even a greeting. Alistair withheld a groan at the thought of instantly being thrust into patrol.

"May I report something first?"

"Let me guess—there was an increased number of monsters on the way to Pertia," she said nonchalantly.

"I— Yes, that is correct," he stammered, surprised that she knew.

"Yes, there have been more monsters near the wall, too. I think it is very likely that a passageway to Monster Realm has opened somewhere nearby," Arianne clicked her tongue. "As if we already didn't have enough problems here."

"Opened? But that would be…" Alistair trailed off. Locations of the passageways to the Monster Realm were well known. Their location had not changed since their first appearance ten millennia ago. But on a very rare occasion, a new passage, much smaller than the original ones, would appear.

"Yes, that's really bad for all the inhabitants of Sunglow. Which brings me to your mission. Take as many men and guards from towns as you need and find this passageway. Comb through the whole surrounding area if you must—leave no stone or tree unchecked."

Alistair opened his mouth to object. He felt like he wasn't experienced enough for a mission like that. He hasn't even reached his master class yet. But as Arianne's determined gaze pierced him, he closed his mouth.

If not me, then who else can do it in this small town? The Guildmaster has to remain in Sunglow as its last line of defense. She needs someone strong to go on this mission.

"Very well." He nodded.

"Good. I know I'm asking much of you, but remember that you do not need to engage with the passageway or any monsters near it. I just need you to locate it so we get some help from the Church for once."

"Understood," he said, and Arianne nodded in approval. She then walked back up the wall and resumed her patrol. Alistair began thinking about how to best approach the issue.

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One thing at a time. First, I'll go home and take a bath, and maybe clean some of the mess that's been building up there while I guarded the bakery.

Alistair got back on his horse and made his way back home. His stomach was grumbling, and he wondered whether he should stop by the inn for a meal. But his clothes were dirty, and his body odor was becoming a bit too strong for his liking, so he hurried home. Perhaps, he could go to the inn after he washed up.

But as Alistair neared his house, he noticed that there was somebody standing by the entrance. When he realized that it was Melina, a smile crossed his lips. He wasn't sure why she was there, but the surprise was a welcome one.

"Good evening, Lord Sinclair," she said, inclining her head politely towards him.

"Good evening, Miss Melina. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he asked after he got off the horse.

"I just wanted to thank you for all the help you provided us." Melina lifted the cardboard box she was holding, and he was delighted to see various pastries inside, both sweet and savoury. "I figured you might be hungry after the long road."

"I am actually," he took the box, already thinking of which tea to enjoy these with. There was even a slice of what looked like a meringue pie—something new she must have cooked up. He was excited to try it.

"There's another reason why I came," she said after a brief pause and presented him with a letter.

"Is this what I think it is?" Alistair asked, carefully taking the envelope from her.

"Yes, it's a reply from the Master's friend."

Alistair's hand trembled. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up as there was no guarantee that this unknown person would even know a solution to his problem. Even if they knew that, they might not be willing to share the solution.

"Thank you so much, Miss Melina! If you don't mind, then I'd like to go and read it now," he said. Melina nodded, but did not meet his gaze. For some reason, she seemed a bit nervous.

"Of course. I hope you enjoy the pastries," she said, and hastily retreated.

I wonder if something happened. Maybe I can check on it later. But now it's time to read the letter and eat some pastries.

Alistair hurried inside, ignoring the surrounding dust and heading straight to the kitchen. He turned on the magitech kettle—a really nifty invention which warmed the water to your desired temperature in a matter of seconds—and put some tea leaves in a teapot.

As he waited for the tea to seep, he sat down at the kitchen table and carefully opened the envelope. His hands trembled slightly with anticipation when he pulled out the page. Alistair read it carefully, taking in every word, observing every curve.

His first thought was that the sender must be a female, for their handwriting was in a neat, delicate cursive and their wording very polite. Alistair had almost expected a blunt rejection in reply in a manner that Master Gilbert would speak. But this person had a different stance. The information that they conveyed in the letter was also invaluable.

"Architects… Could they really exist? In this very region, nonetheless," Alistair muttered to himself as he poured a cup of tea. This was not the first time he had heard of the term "architect".

One day, when he was about twelve years old, his father had gathered Alistair and his siblings together and taken them to a secret chamber that not even the most trusted servants of the house knew of. He had been intimidated at the time, as the room was dark and deep underground. After all, he had heard many stories of noblemen suddenly being forced out of their homes by sudden monster attacks or commoner uprisings.

But it turned out that the matter wasn't anything sinister. Duke Sinclair had told his children the story of how the Human Realm and Monster Realm became connected and how the System appeared at the same time. It was a well-known story—the Church preached it every day. But Duke Sinclair's story was a little different.

Namely, it mentioned being called "architects" that served to maintain the System. He also said that if one were to meet an architect, they could ask them for any one thing—a new skill, a new class, a System artifact, even a familiar. But they were notoriously hard to find, almost impossible, unless you already knew their location.

"Could it be that they actually know where one of these architects dwells? If that's true, then I could delete this skill just like the sender suggests I do," Alistair said to himself, taking one of the lamb bundles and taking a bite out of it. The flaky pastry with the rich, meaty filling tasted so delicious that he had finished it before realizing it.

But even if what this sender says is true and an architect really is somewhere in this region, that wouldn't make the search any easier. I need to know more. I'm going to send them a reply and ask for more details.

Alistair retrieved pen and paper and began to write a reply. He didn't worry about the crumbs from pastries falling onto the page, for this was merely a draft—he'd rewrite it later. The message was short—he inquired about a more exact location of the architect and if it wasn't impossible to expose it by letter, then encrypt it.

Encrypt it how? It needs to be vague enough that if somebody else were to read the letter, they wouldn't understand that it speaks about architects. In fact, I should encrypt my own letter as well.

Alistair took the page, threw it into the fireplace, and set it on fire. Then he took a new one and stared at it, wondering how to best write it. He sat there for several minutes, unsure how to start, so he took the meringue pie that Melina had placed in the box in the hopes that sugar might help his brain figure out a solution.

After taking a bite, Alistair exclaimed in surprise. The pie was so delicious—the crumbly pastry had been filled with tart rhubarb filling that was beautifully complemented by the sweet meringue. It felt like his exhaustion melted away as he ate it, and his thoughts became clearer and more coherent.

"Why not just hide it as a recipe?" he hummed as he finished eating the tart and began composing his letter again.

The first thing Alistair did the next morning after waking up was head to the bakery to deliver his letter, and also to buy himself something to eat for lunch. As always, the old baker greeted him with a deep scowl, but accepted the letter nonetheless. He did not get to talk to Melina as the girl was busy with customers, running in and out of the kitchen with their orders.

After that, he headed to the Adventurer's Guild to figure out how to best tackle his new assignment. Everything was still relatively empty as those who had the night patrol were yet to return, and their replacement hadn't arrived.

Find the passageway to Monster Realm. How do I even do that? The forest surrounding Sunglow is huge, so a manual search without any direction would take ages. Okay, let's think—what do I know about these passageways?

Alistair realized that he did not know much about them besides the fact that you were to stay away from one at all costs. You could never know where you would end up if you went through. Even the original passageways tended to change from time to time, and new ones were even more unpredictable. You could end up right in the middle of a dragon's nest.

But what did the passageways look like? Were there any signs that could help to find it in the surrounding area? Alistair had no clue, so he decided to visit the archives.

It was located underground with shelves lined with books about all sorts of monsters, and every kind of information that could help one defeat them. But there wasn't as much information on Monster Realm because the Sunglow archives were still rather new.

"Is there anything about passageways?" Alistair asked the elderly librarian, a scrawny woman with her skin barely clinging to her bones. She pondered the question for a moment, scratching on her wrinkly cheek, then nodded lazily.

"I believe there are one or two books about it," she croaked out in a hoarse voice and slowly made her way to one of the shelves in the back. Alistair tapped his foot as he waited for her to return—it took far too long—and took the two rather thin books from her.

Much to his disappointment, the books weren't actually about the passageways, but rather the Monster Realm in general. There was a short section that mentioned that passageways should be avoided, and that was it.

I suppose I have no choice but to do it the hard way. I'll take anyone who is not on patrol or a quest and go comb through the forest. Try to find some clues—there must be something.

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