I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World
Chapter 139: Return to the Guild

Chapter 139: Return to the Guild

The moment the JLTVs rolled into the city’s western checkpoint, the guards on duty snapped to attention.

Even behind the tinted armored glass, it was impossible not to recognize the rumble of those war machines. Children paused in the streets, pointing excitedly as the lead vehicle rumbled through, followed by its twin, dust trailing behind like banners of smoke.

Inigo slowed the rear JLTV to a halt just outside the guild building. It was already evening. Lamps glowed with soft white magic, and the plaza buzzed with returning parties, vendors, and carriages. A few heads turned, then widened as they saw who stepped out.

Scarred, soot-streaked, exhausted—but unmistakably victorious.

Lyra hopped down first, stretching her arms. "Finally. No more stairs."

Sark slammed the passenger door behind him. "Or frogs. Or screaming god-things."

"Heralds," Feron corrected, still cradling the containment case with the orb inside. "Let’s not forget what we faced."

Meryl, now used to the sight of their squad drawing attention, gave a lazy wave to the gathering onlookers. "We’re alive, aren’t we? That’s a win."

Brenna slid her helmet off and ruffled her sweat-matted hair. "I’ll take a bath and a whole pig. In that order."

They didn’t wait to be called in.

The doors of the Adventurer’s Guild opened wide as Inigo pushed through with the rest of the team in tow. They bypassed the crowded board and the idle chatter of lower-ranked adventurers. Whispers rippled in their wake.

"Is that Lyra’s team?"

"They took the temple quest."

"I heard they fought a High Priestess."

"No way—they’re using guns now, right? That weird magic-tech stuff?"

Inigo walked up to the main desk and met the eyes of the guild staff. The young receptionist—Elise—sat up straighter.

"You’re back." She blinked at the state of them. "Alive. I mean—"

Inigo offered a tired smile. "Quest complete."

Feron gently placed the reinforced containment case onto the counter. The orb inside still glowed ominously, though much dimmer now.

"That’s the artifact," he said. "Corrupted mana source extracted from the sanctum beneath the Ruined Temple of Serath."

Elise hesitated only a second before signaling an officer. "Guildmaster Thorne is expecting your report. Please go ahead."

They were ushered past the entry chamber and into the reinforced hall behind the guild’s inner office. A few of the other staff glanced up as they passed—men and women who had once thought adventurers like Inigo’s squad were eccentric at best and insane at worst.

No one said that anymore.

Inside the war room, Guildmaster Thorne stood by a map-strewn table. The room smelled faintly of ink, gun oil, and old stone.

He turned as they entered, eyes sharp. "You’re late."

"We fought a Herald," Inigo replied dryly.

That was enough.

Thorne raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

Feron took the lead, handing over the case and unfurling a scroll of notes. "The temple was not merely a forgotten ruin. It was an active shrine to a long-dead pantheon, one that used ritual sacrifice to feed corrupted mana into a bound avatar. The High Priestess was performing a rite when we breached the sanctum."

Thorne nodded. "And the Herald?"

Sark grunted. "We killed her first. Then her pet godling woke up."

Lyra tapped the table with a finger. "It wasn’t just strong. It could take direct hits from RPGs and keep moving."

"Regenerative," Feron added. "The rune on its chest acted as a mana core. The more damage it took, the faster it pulled energy from the surroundings."

"And you beat it?" Thorne asked.

Inigo nodded. "Second RPG to the chest cracked it. Grenades, suppressive fire, Lyra’s arrows—directly targeting the rune finished the job."

The Guildmaster walked slowly toward the case and opened the lock. The orb pulsed inside, faint green veins dancing across the surface.

"Corrupted," he muttered. "But stable."

He closed it again and exhaled.

"Well done."

He turned back to face them fully. "This marks the first successful A-rank extermination using non-magical firearms. I reviewed the battlefield tests you filed with the Quartermaster before deployment—but this proves it in real combat."

Meryl nodded. "Not just that. It wasn’t just firepower—it was coordination. Fire teams. Flanking. Suppression. None of the usual adventuring tactics."

"Formation combat," Thorne murmured, rubbing his chin. "Just like the old war archives from the Northern Front."

"You taught us to use swords and spells," Brenna said, half-smiling. "He taught us to use cover and angles."

Inigo stood straighter. "I believe this is the future of adventuring, sir. Guns. Tactics. Discipline."

"You’re saying adventurers should become soldiers?"

"More like squads with training," Inigo said. "We cleared the temple with almost no spellcasters. Just planning and weapons. And yes, a bow."

He glanced at Lyra, who smirked and patted her quiver.

Thorne considered for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

"I’ll approve the completion. You’ll be bumped to S-Rank as a unit. And I’ll recommend formal adoption of squad-based formations for future high-risk quests."

He turned to the shelf behind him, pulled out a leather-bound ledger, and began writing.

As he worked, the squad looked at one another. For some, the title was just a word. For others, it was a turning point. Proof that everything they’d worked for had been worth it.

Hal leaned over to Lyra and whispered, "Didn’t think I’d live to see it."

She grinned. "Told you the guns would work."

Thorne closed the book and turned back to them. "There’ll be a formal notice posted tomorrow. But as of now, you’re recognized as the first successful modern combat unit operating under guild authority."

"Does that come with a raise?" Brenna asked.

Thorne gave her a withering look.

"Go clean yourselves up. Pay will be issued after the case is transferred to the arcane division and after the quest documents have been processed."

"Understood."

As they turned to leave, Thorne called out one more time.

"Inigo."

He paused.

"Yes, sir?"

"I’ll be organizing a summit next month. Other guilds. Other cities. I want you to speak. Explain what worked."

Inigo blinked. "You want me to give a speech?"

"I want you to teach them how to survive."

He hesitated... then nodded.

"I will."

Outside, the guild lobby had grown more crowded. Someone clapped as they walked by. Then another. Soon, the whole first floor was filled with people applauding their return.

None of them had expected it. Least of all Lyra.

She flushed and ducked her head. "Oh no."

Brenna leaned close and whispered, "Smile and wave."

They did neither.

But they walked with pride.

Later that night, around a fire in the squad’s safehouse, the relic sealed in containment and the stars bright overhead, Inigo finally let himself relax.

He sipped water from a canteen and looked around.

Sark was already snoring.

Hal and Meryl were playing cards.

Brenna was cleaning her pistol.

Lyra leaned against a wall, half-asleep, bow propped beside her.

Inigo set the canteen down.

"We did good," he said softly.

Lyra cracked an eye open.

"We did better than good."

They were adventurers.

But tonight, they felt like something more.

Something new.

Something that worked.

And the world would never be the same again.