When Mark entered the room, the voices stopped abruptly.
"..."
All heads turned, fixing their attention on him.
If it were his previous life, Mark definitely would have felt a bit intimidated by so much attention, but not today.
He heard the door closing behind him as Mila left. And his eyes began scanning the room.
Isolda was seated at the head of the table, maintaining her usual cold expression as she stared at him.
At the side of the table were a few figures Mark had never seen before.
Sitting to the left was a large man who was also staring at him, frowning. He looked as if he had been carved from stone. His eyes were small and dark, fixed on Mark with a hostility he wasn't trying to hide.
There was a scar on his neck that climbed up to his jaw, disappearing beneath a thin, poorly kept beard. His shoulders were so broad they nearly took up the space of two seats, making people uncomfortable sitting beside him.
The dark plated armor he wore only added to his imposing presence.
Looking at him felt like staring at a beast that had been shackled, but could tear its chains apart at any moment.
'?'
Mark's eyebrows lifted slightly in confusion at the hostility.
He didn't remember seeing that face before, so he was truly confused by the unprovoked hostility, but he didn't care.
His gaze continued sweeping across the room.
Sitting next to the first man was a second man with one leg crossed over the other in a relaxed posture. His features were fine and his dark hair was perfectly aligned as he played with the handle of a porcelain teacup.
Wearing a blue silk doublet with silver details, he looked like the typical handsome noble living a carefree life.
A faint smile curved the corner of his lips.
Mark felt his gaze traveling down him from head to toe in a slow, deliberate movement, stopping for a fraction of a second on the cloak before returning to Mark's eyes.
For some reason, the smile on his face seemed to widen even more.
The man occupied the seat beside the large armored one, leaning back in the chair so that his shoulder almost touched the arm of the dark plated armor, not seeming to care at all about the aura of hostility the man emanated.
Seated to Isolda's right was still a woman with black hair, like raven feathers, falling in waves over her shoulders.
She was leaning back with one hand supporting her chin while her elbow rested on the table.
The woman wore a fitted leather outfit, reinforced in strategic points, but with a daring neckline that revealed a serpent tattoo climbing along her collarbone.
She looked at Mark and nodded, her red lips forming a smile of recognition.
Mark nodded lightly back, his expression neutral.
These three figures sitting at the same table as Isolda, the vice guild leader, must have been the gold-rank adventurers she had mentioned earlier.
"You finally arrived."
Isolda finally spoke from her seat, gesturing for Mark to approach when she saw him standing there in silence.
Suddenly—
"You!"
Before Mark could take a step forward, a voice echoed through the room, sounding especially loud now that everyone was silently assessing each other.
This immediately drew everyone's attention toward the source of the sound, including Mark's. He turned, discovering there were more people in the room besides Isolda and the other gold-rank adventurers.
Sitting in a more isolated corner, four adventurers looked as if they had been struck by lightning.
The one who had shouted was a girl with red hair.
She pushed her chair back, the sound of wood scraping the floor echoing aggressively. Her green eyes were wide, jumping between Mark's face and the seat reserved for the last gold-rank adventurer who had yet to arrive.
"You..." The girl repeated again, her voice dying in her throat as she remembered where she was.
"What's the problem?" Isolda frowned at the sudden commotion, looking toward the silver-rank adventurer in the corner of the room who had shouted.
Mark was also surprised.
That girl was the same one who had paid his entrance fee at the gate of Luminaris when he had no money of this world to pay the city's entry tax and his gold had been considered fake by the guard.
'What a small world...'
They were Kael, Lyra, Garret and Voren — the Silver Wolf group.
While Isolda and the other Gold Rank adventurers occupied the central chairs in a privileged position, the group was in a modest corner of the room, sitting with their backs close to the wall.
Kael had his hand frozen over a map, fingers tightening the paper. Garret, the archer, let out a dry throat sound, while Voren squeezed his birch staff tightly.
The group had also not expected to find Mark there.
Lyra seemed to have forgotten how to breathe for a moment; her green eyes jumped from the seat to Mark's face, not knowing how to answer Isolda's question.
"I— I… n-no, I just—" She opened her mouth once, twice, as if the words were stuck in her throat. Struggling to pull herself together while every eye in the room turned toward her.
A blush rose to her cheeks, making the contrast with her red hair even more evident.
"I… just… choked!" Lyra blurted suddenly, raising her hand as if that would make her excuse look more convincing. "On… on my own saliva. Nothing big."
Kael closed his eyes slowly, as if feeling physical pain.
Garret brought a hand to his face, massaging his temple.
Voren simply looked away, choosing to stare at nothing.
"…Choked?" Isolda repeated slowly, raising an eyebrow.
Lyra nodded far too quickly.
"Uhum! It happens… cof! cof!" She tapped her own chest lightly, coughing intentionally twice in a desperate attempt to sustain her story. "I'm fine now."
Isolda watched her for a few silent seconds that felt far too long.
"Very well. If it's just that… maintain decorum." Isolda cleared her throat with a dry sound.
Lyra gave a stiff nod, shrinking in her chair as if she wanted to disappear into it.
Isolda returned her attention to Mark and gestured with her right hand to the figures already seated.
"Mr. Vaelin, these are the other specialists assigned to the East. This is Korgar." She indicated the large man in dark armor.
"That is Silas."
The handsome man tilted his head minimally, his long agile fingers still playing with the cup.
"And this is Elara."
The woman with the serpent tattoo made a casual gesture with two fingers and gave Mark a sideways smile, winking subtly.
Isolda then turned her gaze to the rest of the table, her posture firm and tone returning to its usual cold control.
"And this." She said, tilting her head briefly toward Mark. "Is Vaelin. Our newest gold-rank adventurer of Luminaris."
At the back of the room, from the corner where the silver group was isolated, a murmur escaped—too low for a normal human to hear, but perfectly audible to Mark.
"So he really is a Gold Rank adventurer?"
It was Lyra's voice.
She seemed to be talking more to herself than her companions, her mind still trying to process the discrepancy between reality and what she thought she knew.
"He will be joining you on the mission to the East." Isolda continued, placing her hands on the table.
Silas was the first to react.
His lazy smile widened even more. "So this is the city's new prodigy…" He murmured, spinning the cup between his fingers. "Promoted so fast. Impressive."
There was something in his tone that sounded like praise… and at the same time like provocation.
Korgar just snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The armor creaked with the movement.
"Tsk. We'll see if you can keep up." He growled, not bothering to hide his disdain. "Rank means nothing without real strength."
Mark kept his face expressionless, not bothering to answer.
Elara, on the other hand, leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her dark eyes gleaming. "Welcome to the group, Vaelin." She said, briefly running her tongue over the corner of her lip.
"I hope you're as… competent as you look."
Mark just nodded, not letting himself be affected by any of the three.
Isolda continued, ignoring the rising tension.
"You will work together. The contractor is arriving soon to go over the information." Isolda then stretched out her hand to indicate the empty chair beside Elara.
"Mr. Vaelin, have a seat. Since you'll be working alongside them, it's best to familiarize yourself with the group now." She added, her voice firm, carrying through the room without needing to raise it.
"There will be time for questions when the contractor arrives, but until then I want everyone attentive. Cooperation among you will be essential."
When Isolda pointed to the empty seat, Mark didn't hesitate. He walked to the chair and pulled the seat toward himself, sitting beside Elara.
The woman watched him without hiding her interest, her dark eyes following him throughout the movement.
When Mark finally leaned back, Elara leaned just a bit closer to him, her light perfume reaching him immediately.
Her smile curved in a way that bordered on provocative.
Before Mark could react—
CLACK!
The door was pushed open abruptly, slamming into the wall.
Several eyes turned toward the entrance again at the sound of impact.
'More people?' Mark was stunned.
An elderly man entered hastily, nearly tripping over his own long robe as he crossed the threshold. Wearing a tailored outfit buttoned up to the neck, adorned with thin chains that swayed with each step, he looked like someone important who had arrived late.
"P-pardon me for the delay, Lady Isolda!" The old man said, adjusting his monocle with trembling hands. "There were… urgent matters in the coalition that required my immediate attention. A thousand apologies for making you wait!"
He lifted his head to identify the gathered gold-rank adventurers and understand the atmosphere of the room, but his jaw froze in the air before even completing the movement.
His gaze swept quickly past Isolda, then the armored brute, the noble in blue, Elara…
And then it stopped.
Froze.
His pupils visibly dilated upon seeing Mark sitting there, so casually positioned beside Elara as if he belonged to that circle.
His eyebrows almost shot up to the line of his white hair, and his face paled for an instant.
And he recognized Mark immediately.
'Hm?'
Mark recognized him as well.
Completely.
That was Alden, the master treasurer of the Merchant Coalition.