That was why he had dared to reach out and seize treasure from the world's throat. Even if the nobles discovered it, even if they raged and plotted against him, he could simply retreat behind his doors and laugh.

But now? Now he felt exposed, a wealthy man standing in the open with pockets full of gold but no weapon in hand.

His current strength? It was laughable. He was a mage barely able to cast a Level 2 spell without exhausting himself.

He had survived the dungeons through improvisation and sheer madness, not because of any real power. Compared to true noble enforcers, knights with bodies honed like weapons and mana veins as strong as steel, he felt smaller than an ant.

In the presence of a genuine powerhouse, he wouldn't even have time to chant. His heart raced painfully, thoughts spiraling out of control. He could already envision how the noble houses would react.

First came suspicion, then investigation. After that would be anger, followed by a quiet gathering of blades.

They wouldn't storm the Guild tomorrow like fools; nobles were greedy but not mindless. They would send spies first to test the waters for weaknesses. Once they confirmed that Sage had no strong backing to deter them, they would strike.

And when they did…

Sage's fingers tightened into the bedsheet as if trying to crush it.

No. This wasn't the moment to drown in panic. Panic was a luxury reserved for those who had someone else to save them.

He forced himself to take slow breaths. Each inhalation scraped against pain, yet he clung to them like anchors pulling his mind back from the edge of despair.

"I need a plan," he thought, eyes narrowing with a cold clarity that had saved him more than once in this world. "Fast."

He wasn't dead yet. The buff might be gone, but there was still time left. Three days had passed, that was dangerous, but it also meant that whatever noble response was brewing hadn't reached him yet. Either the dungeons remained undiscovered by noble networks or they were still gathering information.

This meant his window was closing but not yet closed. Sage's gaze turned unfocused as he stared into space, imagining pieces of a chessboard floating before him.

"What do I still have?" he asked himself forcefully, driving the question deep into his fear like a blade. "What assets remain?"

The Guild itself stood as an asset, not in raw power but in legitimacy. It had become a hub, a social core where warriors relied on missions and money for survival. If nobles attacked openly, they risked backlash, not from laws that favored only the powerful but from public sentiment and economic repercussions; too many eyes were now on Gryphon District for their actions to go unnoticed.

Pax's Grey Veil offered another advantage, not through fighting strength but through intelligence. Information served as an early warning system; it allowed movement before danger struck.

Then there was Boren… Boren helped differently, not directly, not yet, but his blood carried weight. Stonehelm weight. A future card still caked in mud.

And then...

Sage's eyes sharpened.

Valeria.

A name could be an impenetrable wall if the person behind it was formidable enough.

He pictured her as she stood at the Guild desk, cold gaze, controlled posture, the unmistakable aura of someone who had taken lives without flinching. Even the way other warriors instinctively gave her space spoke volumes.

Valeria wasn't just "strong." She was a deterrent, a clear warning that if you pushed too hard, something sharp might cut back.

Sage exhaled, and for the first time since waking, the tightness in his chest eased slightly.

"I still have a means of protection," he thought, his eyes narrowing as calculation replaced panic. "Not perfect or permanent, but enough… enough to buy time."

Time was everything. Valeria's strength transcended mere physicality; it encompassed reputation and uncertainty. Nobles didn't fear ordinary warriors, but they hesitated when faced with an unpredictable variable.

A mercenary captain with unknown backing could spell disaster for their plans. Even if they believed they could crush Sage, they would prefer to do so cleanly, with minimal risk, casualties, and embarrassment.

Valeria complicated that equation. And currently, she was an Adventurer of the Guild. This meant that on paper at least, she operated under the Guild's banner, and that mattered immensely.

Sage began to outline layered steps in his mind, each one imperfect but better than nothing.

Step one: ensure Valeria remained present, constantly and visibly. Let the district and any noble spies see her coming and going. Let them hear her name linked with the Guild until it became second nature: "The Adventurer Guild has Valeria."

Step two: provide her with a reason to stay involved. Conveniently, that reason already existed.

Mina.

Valeria was tirelessly completing missions every day to free Mina, a woman known for her disdain toward men who refused to take even a single day off work. Her obsession became a chain that unexpectedly benefited Sage this time around.

He didn't need to beg or convince her; he only needed to ensure nothing disrupted her routine.

Step three: quietly establish another layer of deterrence beneath Valeria because one wall alone wouldn't suffice.

Sage's lips twitched into a smirk as he thought of Gregor and Brutus, the familiar faces and loyal allies, not strong enough to confront nobles directly but capable of creating noise. Noise mattered; noise attracted witnesses and complications, something nobles despised.

Step four: transform the dungeons from being perceived as "Sage's treasure" into something resembling "Guild infrastructure."

If the dungeons were openly linked to the Guild, with warriors entering through passes issued by it, and if the district thrived economically as a result, then attacking Sage wouldn't just mean targeting one individual. It would disrupt a system that countless warriors depended on.

Yet, that didn't deter the nobles from launching their attacks. However, it did raise the stakes. Sage had learned in both of his lives that while the wealthy didn't shy away from wrongdoing, they were always wary of paying too high a price for it.

His chest rose and fell slowly now; pain still pulsed through him, but his mind was racing.

Regret began to seep in, soft yet toxic. He shouldn't have ventured into the dungeons; he should have returned after two; he should have...

Sage clenched his jaw tightly and exhaled sharply through his nose, dismissing those thoughts like spitting them out.

"What's done is done," he told himself coldly. "Eventually, I was bound to confront the nobles anyway."

He hadn't come to this world to remain insignificant. He hadn't built this Guild just to seek permission.

Even if he had played it safe or waited longer, the Guild would still have flourished. The district would still have transformed into a gold mine. The nobles would still reach for it, the only difference would be when.

Perhaps… perhaps the dungeons had merely accelerated an inevitable conflict.

Sage's eyes darkened, not with fear but with resolve.

If he was going to be hunted, then he would make that hunt costly. He would turn himself into a dangerous prey, making sure the nobles hesitated long enough for his foundation to solidify.

Because right now, that was the real threat: he was wealthy but too weak to safeguard his riches. A man with money and no power is simply a target waiting to be robbed.

Sage's gaze drifted toward the window, where light and air danced beyond the curtains.

Downstairs, life buzzed in the Guild Hall, Boren was smiling and stamping papers; adventurers were laughing and demanding wine; Mina likely shouted "Petty Uncle Sage!" somewhere nearby; Valeria was probably slicing through missions with cold precision like a machine.

None of them realized how close danger had come to claiming him.

Sage flexed his fingers weakly; every part of him felt battered as echoes of earlier explanations rang in his mind, ruptured mana veins, backlash, punishment.

But punishment meant he was still alive.

And as long as he lived, he could continue moving pieces on this board.

"System," he said inwardly, voice steadier now. "Tell me everything that still functions, every remaining module and limitation. I need to know exactly what tools I have left."

The system paused before responding as if weighing its words carefully.

[Don't worry Host; currently all other functions work well except for the Invincible Buff.]

"That's good." Sage nodded, releasing a sigh of relief. He lay there, taking slow breaths, consciously calming his racing heart and sharpening his mind.

Fear could be a powerful ally when harnessed correctly. Sage had never been one to let it paralyze him.

If the Invincible Buff was no longer an option, he would forge his own path, not through magic or the system, but by leveraging people, reputation, structure, and influence.

Valeria would serve as his first line of defense. The Guild's growing popularity would act as the second. The dungeons would become both bait and a binding force.

As for the nobles…

A faint, bitter smile tugged at Sage's lips. Let them come, but let them approach with caution. If they rushed in or underestimated him, if they thought he was still that desperate nobody from months ago…

Then even without invincibility…

Sage would find a way to make them bleed. As his thoughts settled into that cold and calculating calmness, the frantic muttering faded from his lips, replaced by a quiet whisper meant only for the system to hear.

"Looks like it's time for Valeria to step into her role… very well."

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