The Guild Master's announcement hung in the air, colliding with the glow of the Golden Sigil still hovering above the Fate Monolith.
For a few seconds, the Adventurer's Guild hall was submerged in a thick silence. There were no cheers. There were no whispers. Time seemed to stop ticking.
Thud.
Crash!
The silence shattered when several wooden and glass beer mugs slipped from the patrons' grasp, smashing against the floor into pieces. The sound of shattering glass acted as a detonator.
The hall instantly turned into a sea of uproar.
"UWOOO..."
"IMPOSSIBLE..."
In the dimly lit corners of the room, several cunning adventurers began to slowly back away. Their eyes glinted with pure greed, staring intently toward the exit. Information regarding the appearance of a Hero-tier Aptitude in a small city like Wealden was worth thousands of gold coins if sold quickly to local nobles.
Atop the stone pillar podium, Thorne's face turned deathly pale. His euphoria evaporated, replaced by panic. He turned toward the stairs, intending to shout orders to summon guards to secure the Guild Hall before the information leaked.
However, The Gilded Falcons acted faster.
Issuing a brief signal via eye contact, Lorien Caldwell gave an order. Klei the Assassin darted like a shadow, while the burly Knight Barton charged forward with his tower shield.
In a single breath, the thick double oak doors were slammed shut, blocking anyone attempting to flee.
Schwing!
The sharp sound of scraping metal cut through the commotion. Lorien drew his longsword halfway from its scabbard. The reflection of light from the silver blade caught the attention of the entire room, silencing the mouths of dozens of adventurers in an instant.
"Aeliana Dewlight is now under the protection of House Caldwell from the Capital," Lorien declared.
His voice was heavy, elegant, yet dripped with a tangible threat. "These doors will not open until I permit it. If even one of you attempts to spread this news to other nobles before I report directly to the King... I myself will separate your heads from your necks."
The killing intent of a Platinum-tier adventurer pressed down upon the entire room. The adventurers intending to flee instantly halted their steps, swallowed hard, and lowered their gazes to the floor.
In the corner by the reception desk, amidst the suffocating tension, Alphonse's body actually froze for an entirely different reason.
His mind spun rapidly, analyzing the aptitude that had just been announced: [ArchMage].
In Orion Online, that class was not something a beginner could obtain. It was a [Job Awakening], a final-tier class promotion that required players to reach Level 70 and pass a series of quests.
Alphonse raised his hand, tapping Arcus's shoulder who stood beside him. "Scan that Elf."
Receiving the brief order, Arcus did not ask questions. He activated his [Sagittarius Eye] passive ability. Arcus's blue eyes pierced through the layers of Aeliana's body, dissecting the flow of mana inside the Elf.
It only took two seconds for Arcus to frown. He leaned in and whispered into Alphonse's ear.
"Alphonse... something is strange. Her mana capacity is incredibly low. Her magical flow is indeed stable, but the amount is no more than a low-tier adventurer. If converted to our standards, her power is merely equivalent to Level 21."
Alphonse fell silent. His brain scrutinized the report. Equivalent to Level 21 yet possesses the [ArchMage] job?
A massive contradiction existed between the game rules he had mastered and the reality displayed before him. Alphonse refused to draw conclusions solely from Arcus's observation. He needed the missing puzzle pieces.
Leaving Arcus and Vrischil who were still monitoring the hall's situation, Alphonse turned around and walked back to the reception desk. He carefully suppressed his aura, replacing it with the charisma of an educated noble brimming with curiosity.
He looked at the Golden Sigil whose glow was beginning to fade above the Fate Monolith, then turned to the receptionist, feigning an expression of awe.
"I must admit..." Alphonse said in a calm, polite tone, drawing the attention of the female receptionist who was still panting in amazement. "I have never seen a Hero-tier Aptitude with my own eyes. In my homeland, such things are merely legends told through books."
Alphonse looked directly into the receptionist's eyes, offering a faint, charismatic smile.
"Could you explain to me... how exactly does this Guild classify the Aptitude tiers of the adventurers registering at that Fate Monolith?"
Feeling flattered being asked by this handsome and authoritative man, coupled with the pride that her branch had just made history, the receptionist enthusiastically leaned forward.
"Of course, Sir!" she answered with sparkling eyes. "On this continent, the Fate Monolith divides a person's Aptitude into four tiers."
The receptionist began to elaborate.
"The first is Untalented. These are the common folk, farmers, or merchants who possess no magical affinity or muscle density for combat.
"The second is Low-Tier Aptitude. The majority of adventurers, soldiers, and city guards fall into this tier. They are the common foundation of military strength.
"The third is High-Tier Aptitude. This is extremely rare. Elite nobles, holy knights, and top-ranking adventurers like Sir Lorien Caldwell belong to this tier. They possess a power ceiling that far surpasses normal humans."
The receptionist pointed toward Aeliana, who was surrounded by adventurers. "And the fourth... Hero-Tier Aptitude. A living legend. They are existences chosen by destiny. [ArchMage] is one of them."
Alphonse absorbed every word meticulously.
"Fascinating. So, a Hero-tier Aptitude is not something obtained after someone reaches the peak of their strength?"
"Of course not, Sir," the receptionist chuckled softly, as if Alphonse had just asked something incredibly amusing.
"An Aptitude is an innate blueprint bestowed by the gods at birth. It is a person's potential, not something that can be changed or achieved through grueling training. A person with an [ArchMage] Aptitude might currently still be weak, but her destiny is set; she will become one of the strongest mages on this continent if she continues to train."
Thump.
All the tangled red threads in Alphonse's head finally connected into one complete pattern. The realization struck him.
In this world of Orion, class promotions or [Job Awakenings] were not rewards obtained after reaching Level 70. Terms like [ArchMage], or his own [Akashic], were a "Blueprint of Destiny". They were innate aptitudes that dictated a person's maximum growth ceiling from the very beginning of their birth.
Alphonse turned away from the reception desk. His footsteps were calm, yet his mind was working to dissect every piece of information he had just acquired. He returned to the corner of the room where Arcus and Vrischil still stood watching The Gilded Falcons crowd.
"I have found the answer," Alphonse said in a low tone that could only be heard by his two comrades.
Arcus and Vrischil immediately diverted their attention from the impromptu celebration in the middle of the hall.
"The Leveling and class promotion system we knew in the game does not apply literally to the denizens of this world," Alphonse shared his deduction.
He stared intently at his two friends. "Here, maximum potential, magical elements, and a person's final class are locked in from the moment they are born in the form of an 'Aptitude'. A person does not fight from the bottom to achieve the [ArchMage] class at the end of their journey."
"Instead," Alphonse continued, "they are born with the blueprint of destiny as an [ArchMage], and train to fulfill that destiny."
Hearing the explanation regarding the laws of this world, Arcus's eyes widened. Rather than feeling threatened, his ego was fiercely ignited.
Arcus raised his leather-gloved right hand, posing and staring at his own palm as if he were holding the globe.
"What a pathetic world," Arcus muttered in a melancholic tone, his voice trembling. "What kind of cowardly gods must chain the fate of their denizens the moment they take their first breath?"
Arcus looked up, staring at the guild ceiling as if he could see the gods hiding behind the clouds.
"But those rules do not apply to me! My destiny lies in my own hands. If this pathetic world tries to dictate my steps..."
Arcus clenched his fist tightly. "...I will launch an arrow of rebellion to tear through those very threads of destiny. Witness how the fate of this world bows before my bow!"
Fueled by his own ego, Arcus turned sharply toward the Fate Monolith standing tall in the center of the hall. The black monolith seemed to call out to him to prove his supremacy.
"I must see it," Arcus said with an arrogant smirk. "I want to see if that lowly stone is capable of detecting the grandeur of the [Sagittarius] class flowing in my veins."
He was just about to step toward the crowd, when a hand gripped his shoulder.
Vrischil's grip forcefully halted Arcus's steps, cutting off his epic moment instantly.
"Let go of me, you foolish woman!" Arcus protested, trying to break free.
Vrischil did not let go. her ice-cold eyes stared at Arcus from behind the shadows of her cloak's hood.
"Save your ridiculous performance," Vrischil reprimanded. "Are your ears deaf? That black stone is not a free facility. You must pay one gold coin to activate it."
Arcus opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat.
"We only have fifty silver coins and a few coppers to survive," Vrischil continued mercilessly, stabbing right at the solar plexus of Arcus's arrogance. "We do not have the money to fund your ego."
Arcus clicked his tongue loudly. His shoulders slumped. The bitter reality that he was a poor man forced him to surrender and retreat back beside Alphonse.
Alphonse himself completely ignored the minor squabble between his two friends. His attention never wavered from the figure of Lorien Caldwell standing in the center of the hall.
Lorien had sheathed his longsword. He was no longer using armed threats to silence the room. Instead, the blonde man now stood before the reception desk with a dominant posture.
Alphonse narrowed his eyes behind his monocle, observing every detail of movement closely.
He saw Lorien take off a thick signet ring from his finger—a ring engraved with the crest of the Caldwell noble family.
With a firm press, Lorien stamped a glowing red wax seal onto Aeliana Dewlight's registration parchment.
Thorne, who was still sweating cold, hurriedly grabbed the official Adventurer's Guild stamp and placed his seal right next to the Caldwell family crest.
The meaning of that action was crystal clear to Alphonse. The document was no longer merely an ordinary registration form. It was a legally binding contract. Valid and undeniable proof in the eyes of the Paxora Kingdom's law that Aeliana, the young [ArchMage], was now officially under the jurisdiction and protection of House Caldwell.
Lorien picked up the parchment, its ink not yet fully dry. He turned to face the sea of adventurers in the hall, holding the document high so the entire room could clearly see the red seal of his family.
A cynical, arrogant smirk formed on Lorien's lips.
"Listen closely, all you Wealden adventurers!" Lorien's voice echoed loudly, radiating the arrogance of a noble standing at the apex of the food chain. "From this second forward, Aeliana Dewlight is an official member of House Caldwell!"
Lorien's gaze swept over the rugged faces before him.
"If even one of you... or any noble in this city... dares to touch a single hair on her head, then you will not only be facing The Gilded Falcons. House Caldwell will declare open war upon you and your entire bloodline!"
That ultimatum declaration was a final warning. Lorien was not merely threatening their lives; he was threatening the existence of their families.
After the echo of his voice faded, Lorien gave a casual signal with a snap of his fingers. Klei and Barton, who had been blocking the exit, immediately stepped aside.
They grabbed the iron handles of the guild's double doors and pulled them wide open, letting sunlight and fresh air back into the hall.
The doors were open. However, the reaction of the adventurers was truly unexpected.
Contrary to the initial panic where many adventurers instinctively wanted to run out to sell the information, now not a single one dared to shift their feet.
They froze in their respective spots like statues. No one dared to take a single step past that threshold. Several adventurers swallowed hard, averting their gazes to the floor, utterly subdued by fear.
From the corner of the room, Alphonse observed this phenomenon with appreciation.
He recognized the genius of the maneuver Lorien Caldwell had just played. Lorien knew he could not lock the doors of this hall forever without inciting a rebellion from dozens of armed adventurers. However, he did not need to.
The execution of psychological terror and the dropping of a major noble family's name from the Capital had become invisible iron bars far stronger than any steel. The fear of vengeance from central nobility had imprisoned the courage and greed of the Wealden city adventurers.
Lorien had won the battle without needing to shed a single drop of blood.
A brilliant move, Alphonse thought to himself. The denizens of this world might be weak, but the intrigues of human power never change.