Guild Master Hans was looking at us with judgment. I had no idea what we were going to offer him. For all we knew, he was probably going to make us do the dishes in the guild house or something similar.

  I was prepared to beg because, as much as the guild allowed us only to fish, the guild also provided us with a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.

  “Guild Master Hans,” Constantine began as he folded his hands over his lap, “I understand we are in the wrong. But perhaps we could work out a solution.”

  That was something the old elf caught on. He looked at us with narrow eyes, but he did not give us any signs.

  “Master, we are going to clean the guild hall for as long as you wish instead of making the fishing quota,” the fairy suggested.

  I looked at Constantine with wide eyes.

  The entire guild hall was massive. And not only that, but the guild hall was about as big as a castle! If we were to clean the guild hall, how then would we have time for any adventures?

  Guild Master Hans nodded, “Yes, you will clean and cook and train.” I began to brace myself, expecting the worst part. “And if you can’t advance to the rank of C by the end of the month, then I am kicking you out.”

  He locked eyes with me. His cold silver eyes were boring into my soul.

  “I saw you could have been a great archer,” Guild Master Hans began. “But you try and try to learn new things without really specializing in anything. How am I supposed to teach you? How is the guild supposed to mold you?”

  I had no answer to that. I saw that Constantine also bowed his head next to me.

  “Constantine, you come from a privileged background, but you did not use your resources to book workshops and the like. What did you expect? That you can grow rich on raiding dungeons?”

  Constantine sunk unto himself. I didn't want to answer these questions, either. But the guild master was zeroing in on me next.

  “And you could have become a poacher. At the very least, someone to feed the hungry. Someone who, yes, would have risked death, but would have developed a perfect archery practice!”

  That was all true, but I didn't want to say a thing, knowing that everything I said was going to be used against me.

  “And you?” He turned to Constantine next. “You don't even have a class? Now, tell me, boys, how am I supposed to shape you into something if you don't even know what you want to be shaped into?”

  That was a very good question. We both bowed our heads.

  “Do you honestly believe I run a guild where fishing is the main point?” That was a rhetorical question.

  But I held my breath, and I knew that Constantine was doing the same.

  “Yes, fishing is important,” Guild Master Hans continued. “We stock up the market. We make sure no one goes hungry. But boys, for the love of everything that's good and holy, please just begin to shape yourselves!”

  He rubbed his temples, not looking at us.

  But he wasn’t done.

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  “I am not mad about the fishing quota. I am even proud about Volunteer Day. That is something good for the community. You brought some goodness to the guild's name, but boys, I don't want you to stay in the swamp you have jumped in! I want to see you as S-ranked adventurers. As adventurers who are ready to take on dragons, defeat gorgons, and yes, save princesses!”

  I honestly didn't want to imagine a princess in need of saving. But I kept my head bowed. It was not my place to tell the guild master that he was putting too big expectations on us.

  “I am judging you by the standards you had set yourself up to.” That made me think.

  He took out two folders. I recognized them as the entrance interview folders!

  “Yes, I am holding you up to the standards you have outlined here in these folders.”

  “You, Augustine.” He opened my folder, and I began to sweat bullets. Now he was going to see just how silly I was three years ago.

  Just a boy, just some dreamer with fluff between his ears.

  “It is written right here that you want to be a traveling chef, that you want to hunt for meat and to collect the vegetables yourself, and that you want to feed everyone who needed it. That you once wanted to become a saint.”

  I shrunk in on myself. Yes, I wanted that, but that was three years ago. Back before I knew about poaching, debtors jail, and the death sentence.

  “And Constantine,” the old elf said as he opened another folder, one which paper was a bit better, “you wanted to become a teacher. Someone who brings knowledge to the young. How close are you to this goal?”

  I looked at Constantine, but he didn't meet my gaze.

  His bottom lip was trembling. I placed a hand on his shoulder and allowed him to lean into me.

  He was a fairy.

  A position as a teacher was probably not in the cards for him. Fairies, after all, were either adventurers or buffers.

  There was no middle ground.

  As bad as it was, there were strict laws regarding what a fairy could and could not do. No fairy could be a teacher. Not in our world.

  Constantine swamped his palms against his knees and looked into the guild master's eyes.

  “I will become a teacher,” he yelled, his nostrils flaring.

  I flinched.

  If he had the conviction to become a teacher, could I perhaps one day have the conviction to be a saint, someone who fed the world?

  “And I will do it by contracting the dungeons. They can be brought into the fold. We don't need to kill any dungeon cores. We don't need to fight the boss mobs. Violence is never the answer,” Constantine proclaimed as he stood from his chair.

  “And if you want to keep us all as a means to an end. Just hammers to hammer the nails into the earth and destroy dungeons, then I will quit the guild and pay for the fees that will bring. I refuse to kill dungeon cores!”

  I had never seen a man with more conviction in my entire life. We were so similar in age, but Constantine sounded as if he had lived at least two lifetimes.

  I looked at the guild master, who raised an eyebrow. “You quit just like that?” the Guild Master asked as he shook his head. “If that is really what you wish to do, then I can't do anything to stop you. But ask yourself: Can you change anything if you quit?”

  Constantine took a hold of my hand and pulled me out of my chair.

  “No,” he whispered. It was a bitter truth. I could sense it in his tone. I could see it in his glistening eyes.“I know that as long as I am contracted by you, I have to follow your rules. And you send adventures to kill dungeon cores!”

  The old elf stood up from his chair, facing us both. His glare was ice itself.

  “So, you are on the dungeon core’s side. You think that they don’t deserve to be hunted. Tell me, Constantine, have you heard about The Rat Dungeon?”

  Constantine froze.

  “That one single dungeon that kills more adventurers than any? And have you heard about The Golem Dungeon?”

  That was actually pretty close to Wendel if I was remembering correctly.

  “If it attacks us, on whose side will you be?” Guild Master Hans continued, but Constantine held up his hand.

  “I understand. I can't save all dungeon cores,” Constantine said, looking down on his feet. “But I wish to preserve the ones who are peaceful. The ones who peddle tea and hot chocolate during the winter months. The ones who want to make something of themselves!”

  “He must be really passionate about it all,” I thought to myself. A dreamer. I squeezed his hand a bit, then looked at the guild master.

  “If we can bring a dungeon into the fold which has not done anything to anyone, may we do it?” I asked.

  Guild Master Hans gave us a bittersweet smile.

  “Boys,” he began with all the broken hopes and dreams which had paved the road to his station, “No dungeon has ever refrained from killing and had survived more than 100 years. You’ll see for yourself. And I pray that it won't lead to your grave.”

  He waved us off then, and we walked out of his office. Not even knowing if we were still guild members or not.