The straightforwardness of his answer seemed to catch the old man off guard.

"I'm not pretending otherwise," Sage added. "This Guild will generate revenue; it has to. Without it, it collapses, and those who depend on it scatter. But there's a significant difference between profit and predation."

He locked eyes with the old man. "To you, wine is an art form. To them," he gestured toward the hall, "it represents relief, memory, celebration, sometimes even grief. If your work becomes part of this place, it will be respected as such. I don't need it to deceive; I need it to endure."

The old man's fingers tightened slightly around his cane. "…You sound less like a merchant," he murmured, "and more like someone trying to build something that will outlast him."

Sage offered a thin smile. "That's typically the only kind of thing worth building."

For a long moment, the old man was silent.

Then he turned his head slightly to look at Pax.

"You brought me here," he said slowly. "Do you believe this place is worth my time?"

Pax met his gaze with calm assurance. "I believe it's worth your craft."

The old man exhaled slowly.

"Very well."

He looked back at Sage.

"You mentioned there's a bar?"

"Yes."

"And tools?"

"Yes."

"Then show me."

Sage nodded respectfully and stood up from his chair before leading the way toward the main hall, gesturing for the old man to follow.

Gregor, Mina, and Pax naturally fell in behind them.

As they walked through the Guild hall, heads turned in their direction, not quite silent but buzzing with curiosity like ripples spreading across water. Adventurers leaned against counters and railings; some nudged each other while others openly followed with their eyes.

An elderly man with a cane was being led by none other than the Guildmaster himself toward the sealed bar counter opposite the reception desk.

Whispers began almost immediately.

"Is that…?"

"Wait, are they opening it?"

"Is that a winemaker?"

Mina stayed close to Sage's side as her small boots tapped lightly against the polished floor; she cranedher neck around excitedly with her eyes shining bright with interest.

They arrived at the bar, and Sage placed his hand on the wooden counter, gesturing beyond it.

"This is the serving area," he said. "Behind here…"

He stepped around and pushed open a reinforced door. Inside, rows of polished barrels lined the stone walls, while copper distillers shone under suspended mana lamps.

Fermentation vats occupied one side of the room, their rims etched with enchanted temperature arrays. Crystal gauges and pressure cylinders were neatly mounted along steel frames, with grinding tables, pressing rigs, and filtering arrays carefully spaced throughout.

The air felt clean, new and untouched.

The old man paused at the threshold for a moment, simply staring before stepping inside. He brushed his hand against the side of a vat, crouching with surprising ease for his age to peer beneath one of the copper distillers. His fingers tested its thickness, balance, and welds.

"Star-forged copper," he murmured. "Triple-layered." His gaze shifted to a suspended spiral condenser. "…Mana-tempered glass. Do you have any idea how much this alone costs?"

Sage blinked in response. "I was told it was… 'within reason.'"

The old man let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Within reason? This coil alone could buy three suburban vineyards! And that pressure array,...hmph, that was designed for alchemical fermentation, not just common wine."

Gregor frowned. "That thing cost more than my house."

Mina's mouth fell open in disbelief. "W...Wait… seriously?"

The old man straightened up, his eyes glinting with newfound interest. "These are not tavern tools," he said quietly. "These are the foundations of a proper fermentation house."

Sage watched him closely. "That's exactly what I intended to build."

Harlan slowly walked deeper into the room, inspecting each station with an expert eye, his fingers hovering over valves and dials as he adjusted them instinctively.

"…It has been a long time," he said softly, "since someone prepared a place before asking for a craftsman."

He turned back to Sage then. "My name is Harlan Vey," he introduced himself. "Winemaker. Fermentation master, and according to most who know me, a stubborn old bastard."

Sage inclined his head respectfully. "Sage. Guildmaster, and according to my staff, an insufferable planner."

Harlan snorted in amusement. "Good! Then let's be honest with each other."

They moved back toward the central table where Harlan rested both hands on his cane.

"If I work here," he stated firmly, "I will not rush things or dilute quality; I won't bend recipes to suit impatient tastes or turn craft into mere novelty."

Sage nodded in agreement. "Understood."

"I will require autonomy," Harlan continued.

"You'll have it," Sage assured him.

"I will choose my ingredients," Harlan insisted.

"Within Guild capacity, yes."

Harlan narrowed his eyes. "And what about my compensation?"

Sage responded without hesitation. "You'll receive a solid monthly salary in gold, enough for a comfortable living. Plus, you'll earn ten percent of the net revenue from all wine produced using your methods."

Gregor stiffened slightly at the figure.

Mina's eyes widened in surprise. "Ten percent?!"

Harlan raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

Sage continued calmly, "You're not just selling labor; you're bringing your craft, your name, and your recipes to the table. I'm not hiring a worker; I'm partnering with a creator."

A moment of silence hung in the air as Harlan studied Sage intently.

"You negotiate like someone who plans to keep their people around rather than discard them when they become inconvenient," he said slowly.

"I negotiate like someone who understands how hard it is to replace true mastery," Sage replied.

After another long breath, Harlan chuckled softly. "Very well then. Guildmaster."

He turned abruptly and pointed his cane toward the door.

"Out with all of you. I need silence, space, and at least two hours before some overeager fool touches a barrel."

Mina blinked in disbelief. "W-Wait, already?"

"Already," Harlan snapped back. "Wine doesn't wait for excitement."

Sage smiled warmly. "As you wish."

He led them out and closed the door behind him.

Inside, they could hear the faint clink of metal and the soft hum of activation arrays starting up almost immediately.

Sage exhaled quietly as he turned back toward the lounge with Gregor, Pax, and Mina following closely behind.

The Guild continued its gentle hum, and somewhere behind them, in a room that had been prepared long before it was ever used, something old began to awaken once more.

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