The Guild Master Whose Hobby Was Helping People Found Himself Surrounded by the Strongest, Overly Attached Members - 54

Chapter 54: The Muscle’s Misunderstanding

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The savory scent of food stalls mixed with the wind. Lanterns were being strung one after another in Vestia’s square, and the festive air grew thicker with each passing moment.

The members of the guild White Lantern strolled along the street.

While Ceres flipped through the stalls selling mantle, looking for something, Iris pranced about with a pastry in her hand, and Leon, though he had warned the others, “Don’t let your guard down,” walked with a faint air of enjoyment.

“The next thing to eat is… What a dilemma…”

Ragnar clasped his hands together, surveying the stall-lined street by himself. He frowned, perhaps because he could not find the stall he was after.

“Something that will please the Leader as well… Hm? Now that I think of it, the Leader’s figure is—”

And then, it happened. A man tumbled out from an alleyway and crashed hard into Ragnar’s back. He bounced off, landing on his backside with his hands bracing the ground.

“Ugh… Oow, ow…!”

Ragnar’s brow twitched as he looked down. The man, who looked like a middle-aged tourist, was pale-faced and sweating from his forehead.

“A thousand apologies! It is only because I have forged my back muscles like pillars!”

“Eh, back muscles…? Ah…!”

The man looked up, and upon seeing Ragnar’s muscles, his eyes went wide.

“Muscles…!”

“Indeed, I am muscles!”

“No, that’s not—well, not wrong, but! That person… The adventurer who saved me told me to go find the loud one with the muscles…!”

“…An adventurer, you say?”

Ragnar’s expression shifted.

“I was attacked by bandits in the back alley… I thought I was done for…! But then a man saved me! He pushed me away and…!”

The words came out jumbled, but Ragnar understood clearly. The man was talking about no one but Leader Shin. 

The tourist fumbled hastily at his waist pouch and pulled out a wooden sword. The guard was frayed, and the grip was covered in small scratches.

“He told me to give this to you…!”

Ragnar accepted it in silence. The moment he held it, he knew what it was by feel alone.

“This is the Leader’s sword.”

As Ragnar muttered softly, Iris, perhaps having caught his voice, ran up from down the stall street.

“Ragnar-san, what happened?”

She still held a half-eaten pastry in hand, but her face was plainly clouded with worry. Leon approached a little behind her, his eyes narrowing with caution as he looked at the man.

“And this person… What happened to him?”

Though the tourist faltered for a moment, he repeated the same words as before. Iris’s eyes flew wide.

“Wait… Could that mean…?”

“Yeah. That sword is… There’s no doubt about it, this is Shin-san’s sword.”

Leon pointed at the wooden sword—scarred, but clearly well cared for.

“Then right now, Shin-san is out there alone…?”

“He must be asking for help…”

Iris’s voice trembled, and Leon swept his gaze around the area. Then, almost as if in response, a shrill scream rose from the other end of the street.

“Ahhh, my purse—!”

“Mine too! Damn it, that guy’s a pickpocket!!”

In an instant, the street erupted in commotion. The crowd broke apart, and several men dashed off. It was clear—pickpockets and thieves had started moving in unison.

“It seems the bandit gang is using the chaos of the festival to make their move. Where is Shin-sama?”

Ceres, having just returned from shopping, shut her fan with a snap after hearing Iris’s explanation.

“…In that case, the likelihood of Shin-sama being caught up in this is very high.”

“Then let’s go right away! We have to help Shin-san…!”

Leon stepped forward as if to agree with Iris’s voice. But—

“Wait!”

Ragnar, with his hand on the wooden sword, spoke with a grave expression.

“…The Leader entrusted this to me, Ragnar Blastheart! He entrusted this sword to me!”

He raised the wooden sword powerfully, but the guild members still had no idea what he was trying to say. Ragnar himself seemed to know that, for he deliberately chose his words, speaking slowly.

“…This is a trial, from the Leader to us.”

“A trial…?”

Ceres tilted her head.

“Yes. The Leader is one who speaks not with words, but with his back. If he wanted to entrust us with something, it wouldn’t have to be a weapon at all.”

“Since Shin-san only has a wooden sword, if he just wanted help, it would have been more natural to hand over something else… Is that what you mean?”

“Precisely, Leon-kun. In other words, the Leader deliberately chose the wooden sword with intent. …A sword is a command to ‘fight,’ but a wooden sword is a metaphor for ‘not killing.’”

Ragnar threw his head back and declared to the sky:

“The Leader is not waiting for us to help him! He is testing how we will resolve this situation, testing our muscular judgment!”

“I… I see…!”

“As expected of Shin-san…”

“If he did not trust us, he could never act this way.”

In reality, Shin simply had not thought far enough to hand over anything but his wooden sword, and he genuinely needed help. But everyone here was a blind believer in Shin. Even the smallest of his actions would be imbued with deep meaning.

“Then… I, Lady Ceres, Leon-kun, and Iris-san shall divide up and suppress the bandits! If anyone sees Rovan-dono, share information with him at once!”

From there, their speed of action was indeed worthy of SS-rank adventurers. Their tourist-like mood was gone as if it had never existed, each of them moving with firm resolve.

The tourist Shin had saved… He alone stood there, dumbfounded.

“…W-wait… I think something’s not right here…?”
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