The Corrupt Guildmaster Raises His Reputation Sky-High
“Impossible… this can’t be happening…”
Bash, bloodied and battered, clenched his fists against the ground. Yet his eyes—those stubborn, burning eyes—still hadn’t given up. Even now, after seeing the overwhelming difference in strength, he still believed he could beat Aron.
That was exactly how it went in the original story. After losing this battle, Bash would try time and time again to bring Aron down, and each attempt would only end in tragedy. In the end, he’d cross the border into the realm of demons, no longer even human.
And finally, he’d be defeated by Aron and swallowed into the void. A fate far worse than Zilkein’s.
That made me wonder. In the original, Aron had exposed the guild’s corruption, Zilkein had fallen into ruin, and Bash—once a member of that same guild—had sworn revenge against him.
So what would happen if I changed that story?
What if Aron stayed in the guild?
Whether Bash stayed or left, his hatred toward Aron would surely remain. And as the Guildmaster, I’d be caught right in the middle of it. Even if I managed to avoid my own ruin, as long as Bash stayed the same, I’d never have peace.
Then there was only one answer: I had to turn Bash’s hatred into something else—something that would drive him away from destruction. Otherwise, I hadn’t truly changed fate at all.
This was where the real plan began.
Condemnation, schadenfreude, all those things… If someone out there reincarnated me into this world, then watch closely. I’ll show you just how powerful meta knowledge can be.
“Everyone, listen to me!!”
I strode toward Bash and raised my voice. The crowd fell into a hush. The result of the duel was clear, and all eyes were waiting for my verdict.
“This duel’s winner is Aron! The loser is Bash! As promised, Aron’s expulsion is revoked—and Bash shall be expelled in his place!”
“Guh… gugh…!!”
Bash slammed his fist into the dirt again and again, seething in frustration. What’s the matter, Bash? Doesn’t it sting—to be ruined by the seeds you sowed yourself?
Good. That emotion… has value.
I spread my arms wide and addressed everyone.
“Why did Aron win? Because his years of hard work finally bore fruit! That’s the difference between him and Bash! Isn’t that right!?”
“Now that you mention it, Aron has been training nonstop…”
“He’s been fighting ever since the Red Dragon’s Wings days.”
“Sorry for calling you a support lackey, Aron!!”
Among the shouts came voices agreeing with me. Exactly. Aron’s power wasn’t something he gained overnight—it was the result of years of peril and effort. I merely gave him the final push.
If I could apply that same logic to Bash, a pattern emerged:
If someone like Aron—who was thought talentless—could grow this strong, then Bash too might…
That thought would look like hope to him.
“That’s why I believe—Bash still has untapped power within him!!”
The crowd fell silent again. Bash’s eyes widened. His pride was in tatters, his heart ready to sink into darkness. And just then, I gave him the words he’d secretly longed to hear.
In the original’s final volume, after becoming no longer human, Bash was defeated by Aron.
At the very end, he’d confessed:
That what he’d truly wanted all along… was recognition.
To have his strength and struggles acknowledged. That’s why he sought revenge.
And that’s exactly what was happening now. Having been crushed by Aron, Bash was moments away from collapsing into despair.
So Bash—
I’ll give you the words you crave.
For the sake of my own peace, I’ll make you step off the stage willingly.
“I don’t truly wish to expel Bash! But listen! I could no longer ignore his recent arrogance! Because Bash is one of this guild’s pillars!”
“Wait, the Guildmaster thought that highly of Bash?”
“Yeah, but lately he’s been acting weird…”
“Isn’t that a bit too idealistic for the Guildmaster?”
“Expulsion still feels too harsh, though…”
Some murmurs of doubt ran through the crowd. I couldn’t blame them—this sentimental act almost made me gag. But I had a goal to finish. I’d overturn their view of me along with the situation itself.
“To erase Bash’s arrogance, he needed to experience the consequences of his own words. That’s why I accepted this duel—with expulsion as the condition! Because that’s what will truly make him stronger!!”
The crowd fell silent. Even Aron watched quietly, waiting for what I’d say next.
It didn’t matter how contrived it sounded—there was logic in my words, logic befitting a Guildmaster’s judgment.
The only reason people couldn’t accept it was because Zilkein’s reputation among them was already rock bottom.
Time to change that.
I knelt beside Bash, took his hand, and pulled him to his feet. Then, looking straight into his eyes, I said the words he’d always wanted to hear.
Transforming “expulsion” into something he could accept with pride, I declared:
“Bash—travel the world and grow stronger. Overcome the trial I’ve set before you… and return as a greater man!”
“W-what are you talking about…? Even if you say that… I can’t believe… it…”
Bash’s voice trembled. Of course he couldn’t believe it. Even he knew I’d never spoken to him this way before.
But still—he couldn’t hide it.
The flicker of joy at being trusted.
That was Bash’s core. He’d sought strength to earn trust—but over time, that need twisted into arrogance and comparison. No wonder his party never truly trusted him. That gap between desire and action was what created the warped man called Bash Ramilton.
And because I’d read the original, I understood that better than anyone.
Knowledge—that was my greatest weapon in this world.
And I knew the one method that could win Bash’s faith in Zilkein, the Corrupt Guildmaster.
Zilkein—the greedy man obsessed with money and power, content to rule this small-town guild. A man with no redeeming features—a walking symbol of vice.
Now, what would happen if such a man did this?
I pulled out a pouch and pressed it into Bash’s chest. A metallic clink rang out. His eyes widened at the weight of the bag—about the size of a fist.
“This is…?”
“Three hundred gold coins. Enough to live two years without adventuring. But I believe in you. You’ll use that money wisely—and come back even greater.”
For the Zilkein everyone knew, money was worth more than life. A true miser. So how would this act look to the others?
The answer was obvious.
“Wait—what!? The Guildmaster just gave Bash that much money!?”
“No way… that can’t be real…!!”
“That just shows how much faith he has in Bash…”
“I’m… actually impressed by the Guildmaster right now…”
“Hohoho. They say a man’s worth shows in how he spends his gold. Seems our Guildmaster’s worth far more than a mere coin, eh?”
“Bash!! This isn’t a banishment—it’s proof the Guildmaster believes in you!!”
“He’s sending you off in tears, that’s what it is!!”
“I’m honestly jealous!”
The crowd erupted, their shock turning into cheers—first for me, then for Bash.
See? That’s exactly how I planned it.
I defended Aron, preached ideals, and challenged the “expulsion drama.”
Now everyone wondered: “Has Zilkein changed?”
And that doubt was the seed I’d planted from the start.
The stronger you knew Zilkein’s old reputation, the more powerful this turnaround felt.
This gold wasn’t just a gift—it was the symbol of my break from Zilken, the Corrupt Guildmaster.”
Go on, Bash. Be moved.
Because me? I’m no miser. I like money—but I’ll spend it if it brings greater profit later.
If I can buy peace of mind for two years with this, it’s a cheap investment.
“G-Guildmaster… you think so highly… of me…?”
A single tear slid down Bash’s cheek. I clapped his shoulder firmly, as if to lift him up.
“When you return as a proud A-Rank adventurer, I expect you to stand beside Aron as the pillars of this guild. Become a great man, Bash. I know you can.”
“Guildmaster…!!”
Tears streamed down his face. Seeing that, the crowd roared with joy—cheers for Bash, praise for Aron, hopes for both their futures.
And Bash, wiping his eyes, looked up at me—not with envy, not with scorn, but with the clear, honest eyes of the boy he once was.
“I’ll do it, Guildmaster!! I’ll get stronger and come back to you!! To the greatest Guildmaster there ever was!!”
Good. Whether you die in a ditch or actually reach A-Rank, it’s all the same to me. Just don’t get in my way.
Still… I might as well sweeten the lie, for your sake.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Bash nodded hard.
“Aron!! When I come back, we’ll fight again!! Next time, I’ll make you acknowledge me—as a man worthy of carrying this guild!!”
Aron nodded back quietly.
“Yeah… show me, Bash. I’ll be waiting here at the Luminage Guild.”
The crowd erupted again, their voices filled with fire and hope, cheering the story of these two adventurers born from one guild.
Then, pushing through the crowd, Emidia came running up.
“Zilkein-sama!!”
She raised her voice so all could hear.
“Everyone! Did you hear him!? Zilkein-sama has risen again to embody true ideals! Our Guildmaster is supreme!! He will create the true ‘Guild for Adventurers’!!”
Huh? Did I say any of that?
I blinked, thrown off by her sudden declaration. Was this what she’d mentioned before—the dream that the original Zilkein once spoke of?
“The Guildmaster once fell, defeated by his ideals,” murmured an old adventurer. “But seeing him now… it seems his noble spirit never truly died.”
So the old Zilkein had that kind of past, huh? I didn’t even know.
Emidia threw herself into my arms, tears streaming down her face.
“Zilkein-sama, I believed in you all along! No matter how far you fell, no matter how dark your heart became—I knew you would rise again!”
… She’s running way ahead of the script here.
But fine, I’ll play along.
“I’ve caused you trouble, Emidia. But I won’t waver anymore. Will you help me rebuild this guild?”
“Yes!!”
Emidia beamed through her tears.
In the original tale, those bound by glory and ruin each went their separate ways. But now, they all walked forward—on the palm of my hand.
At that moment, I felt it. My ruinous fate had finally shattered.
And so, Bash—sent off by Aron and the party—departed on a journey of “training,” dressed as exile. With that look in his eyes, he would never break.
Ahead of him waited hardship and pain. If his fate still followed the original, it would be harsher than death.
But he would face it gladly, remembering this day—believing he was expected and trusted. What a fool.
If that fool ever came back stronger… I’d welcome him with open arms.
As my guild’s top earner—my profitable little pawn.
…
From that day on, the way adventurers and townsfolk looked at me changed.
Their eyes no longer held fear—but expectation.
Everything had gone according to plan.
All for my wealth and position.
And yet, somehow, I’d restored what Zilkein had once lost.
Ironic, really.
But… this works too.
As long as no one gets in the way of my profits, I don’t care who ends up with their happy ending.
—The Guildmaster’s handling of the A-Rank party expulsion would soon become legend, his name spreading across the western nations.
Thus began the story of the man who would one day be called—
The Legendary Guildmaster.
What do you think about this chapter?
