SSS Frost Sovereign: Rewinding The Apocalypse!-Chapter 57: Zayne

The guild union was open to all incarnations. It was a major change, one that already set this turn apart from Icard’s last.

’Once raid parties are formally recognized, Albert will not need to keep gathering incarnations the way he used to. Recognized groups can decide when to go out on their own,’ Icard thought as they waited their turn.

This shift had started with Liam’s raid group. They had come back alive, loaded with loot, and strong enough to talk about it.

After that success, Liam had been the first to openly declare that his group could operate independently.

With their Erwald backing them, it was actually possible. Risky, sure, but possible.

And once others saw that a group could survive on its own, the idea spread fast. More people began to think they could do the same.

Not long after, the mayor announced the creation of the guild union.

To register, each group had to come together as a unit. The main requirement was simple but strict. Every registered group needed an Erwald.

With an Erwald, a group’s odds of surviving the apocalypse rose sharply.

Their guidance mattered, and in high risk raids, an Erwald could pull capable incarnations out if things went wrong.

It was not foolproof, but those incarnations had to be really strong just to escape.

The registration hall was a wide wooden structure built from salvaged beams and reinforced planks, half medieval guild house, half improvised command center.

Torches and hanging lamps lit the space in warm tones, giving the place a strange, adventurer like atmosphere.

When Icard and the others arrived much earlier, the hall was already crowded.

Raid parties stood in loose clusters. In one corner, a bulky Erwald with stone like skin stood before his group as they joked among themselves.

Nearby, a slimmer squirrel like Erwald with silver fur listened quietly while his incarnations argued over their registration details.

Most of the people here bore fresh scars or bandages. These were groups that had bled together.

At the far end of the hall, registrars worked behind long tables, calling groups forward one by one and questioning them closely.

If a group met the criteria, they were issued a stamped metal tag, an official guild mark that served as their identification.

’For now, everyone gets the same tag,’ Icard thought. ’But soon, they will start ranking raid parties. Different grades, different privileges.’

This was not just about organization. It was about control. The mayor’s government was beginning to formalize power and gather capable groups under its influence.

Along the sides of the hall, groups without Erwalds were being encouraged to merge into Albert’s force.

It was not exactly a raid party, more like a standing unit under the mayor’s and Albert’s direct command.

After seeing the risks outside and hearing about the protection and benefits, many of those groups agreed.

Everyone except one young man.

At first, his protest was just another raised voice in the crowd. Then it grew louder, sharper, drawing attention.

"Why would I join your crappy group. Who says I cannot survive on my own," the man shouted.

He looked disheveled, clothes wrinkled and half torn, eyes bloodshot as if he had not slept in days.

His hair stuck out in uneven clumps, and his hands trembled as he grabbed the registrar by the collar.

"I lost Evan and Kira to the first gate, then Ned to the first raid. And now Ed died to that freak in the second raid," he yelled, voice cracking.

"But I am still here. I survived. I will carry on for them so to hell with your group. I have my own."

The words rang with grief, not strength.

From his wild eyes and frantic movements, it was clear he was not thinking straight anymore.

Icard watched the man without expression. He was already blabbering too much.

"I do not want your group. Give me our tag. I will survive for them with or without those stupid creatures."

The registrar tried to calm him down, but the man only grew more uncontrollable.

He yanked the registrar forward, nearly pulling him over the counter despite the guards moving in to restrain him.

"Who do you think you are," he shouted, before someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind, stopping him and taking his attention in that brief moment.

"Sir. You do not need to make this much noise. If you do not want to join them, you can join up with me. I am alone as well."

The voice was calm and steady, but it did little to soothe the agitated man, who then released the registrar and turned to face the speaker.

The young man looked to be in his early twenties, with neat black hair and soft, friendly eyes behind thin lenses.

His posture was relaxed, hands loosely at his sides, and his clothes were clean but worn from travel.

There was something composed about him, an easy confidence that did not feel forced.

The older man glared at him, trying to intimidate him.

"Who the fuck are you. You should be joining me, not the other way around," he hissed. "And who said I wanted to be with anyone..."

He cut himself off when he noticed the young man was already registered, a stamped metal tag resting in his hand.

That only made the man more agitated.

"What the hell is this. He just said he is alone. Why does he get to register and I do not."

At that moment, a small creature climbed up from behind the young man’s collar and perched on his shoulder.

It was tiny and fragile looking, with soft, pale fur and large, glassy eyes.

Its body was barely bigger than a kitten’s, small enough to fit in one hand, and it tilted its head as it looked at the man, a bit in amusement.

"He has an Erwald," the man muttered.

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Some people leaned forward to get a better look, others whispered among themselves.

The sight of such a small Erwald only seemed to fuel the man’s rage.

"What do you take me for. You think I am foolish. What difference does it make. I do not need them. I do not need anyone."

His breathing grew erratic, power beginning to stir around him as his emotions spiraled.

He looked ready to lash out, whether at the registrars or the young man who still stood there, calm despite the hostility aimed at him.

Then a heavy presence settled behind him.

The man stiffened, feeling a shadow loom over him. When he turned, Albert stood there, towering above him, broad frame blocking the light. Albert’s gaze was cold and heavy, devoid of sympathy.

Everyone in the hall recognized him.

The man met Albert’s eyes for a moment, then his bravado faltered. His shoulders sagged, and the tension in his body drained away.

"Tch. I will... I should just join up," he muttered, lowering his head. Then guards quickly escorted him out before he could stir up another scene.

Once he was gone, the hall slowly returned to its subdued murmur.

The tension that had gripped everyone loosened and conversations resumed in hushed tones.

Albert turned to the young man.

"Zayne. Just as I thought. I knew this would cause trouble," he said. "You still have not found anyone to form a group with."

Zayne huffed softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"You could always join my group. I can set you up with your own squad," Albert offered.

Zayne shook his head lightly. "I would like to, but Regel would not allow it. He does not like just anyone joining up with me."

Albert glanced at the small Erwald perched on Zayne’s shoulder. The Erwald stared back at him, unblinking and tail flicking once.

"I see," Albert said. "Then have you heard of a raid party that has been getting some attention lately. An ice based user named Icard..."

Zayne smirked faintly. "Yeah. That guy."

As he spoke, Icard and his raid party were already leaving the hall.

Their registration had just been approved. They were now formally recognized as a raid party by the mayor’s government.

Something he could not achieve by this time in his previous turn.

Icard’s gaze drifted briefly toward Zayne. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes, recognition tinged with old familiarity, before he masked it and looked away.

Matt noticed the momentary distraction.

"What is it. Who is that," he asked, glancing back toward Zayne and Albert as they passed them.

Icard did not answer right away.

This was the first time he had seen him in this turn.

’Zayne.’