"So, what do you mean by 'pretty interesting'?" I asked, turning to the stranger who called himself Raphael. "And what about the King's speech?"
Raphael raised a hand, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The heat radiating from him seemed to pulse with his amusement.
"Well," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say this King is a fraud."
"A fraud?"
I frowned. King Charles IV was a Tier 3 Emperor-that's what public says about him. You couldn't fake that kind of pressure. But before I could ask for clarification, Raphael smiled—a sharp, knowing expression.
"You will know soon enough, Lucian. Don't worry. I will explain it to you slowly when the time comes."
He took a step back. "We will meet again soon."
And just like that, he vanished. He didn't run; he simply melted into the bustling crowd of Bransy like a drop of red ink in water.
"Maybe we will," I muttered to myself.
Should I follow him? Ask him about the Mirror Dimensions?
No. Too risky.
I shook my head. The world of the Awakened was harsh. Trusting a stranger who smelled like burning sulfur and called the King a fraud within five minutes of meeting him was a quick way to get stabbed in the back.
But I can't stay idle.
Arthur and Seraphim were nowhere to be found, and I had a feeling they wouldn't be back until nightfall. I needed to get stronger. If I didn't, the Sin of Pride—or worse, Luxuria—would swallow me whole.
I needed a quest.
I left the market square and followed the damp, foggy road until I saw a weathered wooden sign creaking in the wind: [The Guild of Bransy].
The building was old, constructed from dark, sea-battered stone. It looked less like a guild and more like a fortress that had surrendered to the rot.
I pushed open the heavy oak doors.
Inside, the air was thick with tobacco smoke and the smell of cheap ale. It resembled a tavern more than a place of business. Hunters and mercenaries sat at sticky tables, nursing beers and whispering in low tones.
At the far end of the room stood a long wooden bar. Behind it was the receptionist—an old man with a face like crumpled paper and a few wisps of white hair clinging to his scalp. He wore a faded black vest over a white shirt, serving whiskey with shaking hands.
I walked toward the request board on the side wall. It was plastered with layers of parchment, fluttering in the draft.
Most of them were grim.
[MISSING: Young girl, age 16. Last seen near the docks.]
[MISSING: Elderly man. Vanished from his home.]
[ALERT: Monster sightings increasing in Sector 4.]
"People disappearing into thin air..." I whispered, tracing the edge of a poster. It smelled of desperation.
I scanned for actual work.
[Find the Lost Cat – Reward: 3 Pounds]
Pass.
[Eliminate the Dock Thieves – Reward: 5 Pounds]
Boring.
[Partner Needed: Mirror Dimension Entry – Reward: 50 Pounds + Loot Share]
My eyes narrowed.
Mirror Dimension.
This was it. But the conditions were strange. Usually, you needed a squad of four or five to enter a Rift safely. This request asked for a single partner.
I tore the paper off the wall and walked to the bar.
I placed the quest on the counter. The old bartender looked up, eyeing my dusty tuxedo and my young face with blatant skepticism.
"Can I take this quest?" I asked. "And who posted it?"
The old man scoffed, wiping a glass with a dirty rag. "You? Can I ask your Rank, boy? And your name? That Rift isn't a playground for kids."
He clearly thought I was some runaway noble trying to play hero.
Without a word, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ID card from the Guild of Preservation (London Branch). I slid it across the wood.
The bartender's eyes widened. He picked it up, checking the magical seal, then looked at me with newfound respect—and suspicion.
"London Branch..." he muttered. "A Tier 2 from the Capital. I apologize."
He slid the card back. "But are you sure? The guy who posted this... he's odd. He said he only needs one person. Usually, that means he's planning to use you as bait."
"Odd?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Isn't it strange to dive into a Rift with just two people?" the old man warned, leaning in. "But if you have a death wish, be my guest. The reward is high."
"Where is he?"
"Sitting in the corner." The bartender pointed a crooked finger toward the darkest shadow of the room. "Go ask him yourself."
I turned to look.
Sitting alone at a small round table, nursing a glass of crimson liquid that looked disturbingly like blood, was a familiar figure.
Red hair. Burning atmosphere.
It was Raphael.
"Yes... it is odd," I muttered to the bartender, though I was mostly speaking to myself.
I took a deep breath. I have time. And if he really is a fraud, I can handle him.
I walked across the creaking floorboards toward his table.
Raphael noticed me approaching. He stopped drinking, the glass hovering near his lips, and a slow, amused smile spread across his face.
"Well," Raphael drawled, his voice smooth and warm. "Fancy seeing you here again, Lucian."
"Fate truly is meticulous," I replied dryly.
"Sit," he gestured to the empty chair opposite him.
I sat down, feeling the temperature rise slightly just by being near him.
"So," I asked, cutting to the chase. "Why is a man who calls Kings 'frauds' trying to enter a low-level Mirror Dimension?"
"You seem pretty rich," Raphael countered, ignoring my jab. "Why are you trying to enter? For the pocket change?"
"The same reason you wish to enter," I lied smoothly. "Power."
"Hah." Raphael laughed, taking a sip of his drink. "Don't overthink it, Lucian. It will be fine. I'm just bored."
He set the glass down. "By the way, since we are partners now, I should tell you. I am a Hunter."
Hunter? That was a vague class. Usually, it meant someone with tracking skills or physical enhancement.
"I see," I nodded, keeping my face impassive. "And I am a Gravity User."
As if I'm going to tell you I'm the host of Pride.
"Gravity... rare," Raphael mused, his eyes gleaming. "Excellent."
He stood up, adjusting his coat. "Shall we go now? The Rifts in Bransy get nasty at night. It's better to clear it before the sun sets completely."
"Sure. Let's go."
I stood up and instinctively reached out to grab my silver cane—my weapon, my anchor.
My hand grasped empty air.
Shit.
I froze.
I forgot my cane at the hotel.
The realization hit me harder than I expected. I had become so used to tapping it, leaning on it, using it to channel my King's Aura. Without it, I felt strangely naked. Vulnerable.
Raphael paused, looking at my empty hand. "Something wrong?"
"No," I said quickly, shoving my hand into my pocket to hide the tremor. "Nothing. Just... stretching."
"Right." Raphael didn't press it. He walked toward the exit, the heat haze trailing behind him. "Come on, Gravity User. Let's go see what monsters are hiding in the fog."
I followed this guy out of the guild, praying that my first mission in Bransy wouldn't be my last(no pun intended).