I woke up earlier than usual, the soft light of morning slipping through the glass and settling across the room. For a moment, I stayed still, letting the quiet ease in.
Then I noticed it.
Leon wasn't there.
I sat up, glancing toward his bed. Empty.
"Did he head to the guild headquarters already?" I thought.
It wasn't unlikely. He never followed any clear routine, but when he moved, there was usually a reason behind it.
With a small exhale, I got up and prepared for the day. The cold water helped clear my head, washing away the last traces of fatigue. By the time I finished, my thoughts were steady again.
I wore the Saviant Guild uniform, adjusting it slightly until it fit just right. Clean. Refined. Recognizable.
The mask came last.
For a brief moment, I looked at my reflection. Crimson eyes stared back—calm, but not distant. More aware than before.
"Let's go."
Lumere had already awakened.
The streets carried a steady flow of movement. People walked in groups, conversations blending into the background. Families passed by, children laughing, their voices light and unburdened.
Above, mages moved through the sky with ease, heading toward their duties as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It felt… familiar.
"Not so different after all," I thought quietly.
As I walked, I noticed the glances.
Some curious. Some respectful.
Others… less so.
There was distance in certain eyes. A quiet resentment that didn't need words to be understood.
"Even here, power creates a divide."
The thought came and went just as quickly.
I didn't dwell on it.
Instead, I let myself explore, moving through the city without a fixed direction. Lumere revealed itself gradually—the structure, the rhythm, the balance between order and chaos.
Then something caught my eye.
"…Starbucks?"
I stopped.
For a second, I just stared at the sign.
Then, unexpectedly, a small smile appeared.
"So even this exists here."
There was something oddly comforting about that.
"A coffee wouldn't be bad."
I stepped inside.
The warmth hit immediately—the scent of caramel, roasted beans, something sweet lingering in the air. The atmosphere was relaxed, detached from the world outside.
I joined the queue and waited my turn, scanning the menu.
When I finally stepped forward, I began, "Could I get a caramel lat—"
"Could I get the strawberry spec—"
The voices overlapped.
I paused and turned.
A woman stood beside me, her long brown hair falling neatly over her shoulders, green eyes fixed on me with clear irritation.
"Hey," she said. "I was in line first."
I looked at her for a moment.
Then glanced at the queue behind me.
"No," I said calmly. "You weren't."
Her expression tightened slightly, clearly not expecting that response.
I studied her a bit more closely.
There was something about her…
Before I could place it, another voice spoke—lighter, slightly rushed.
"Ah—sorry about that."
I shifted my gaze.
A young man stepped forward, his messy red hair catching the morning light. His red eyes carried an easy, apologetic expression.
"She doesn't usually come to places like this," he said. "She's not used to queues."
I looked at him properly—
And froze for a brief second.
"…Samuel?"
The name surfaced instinctively.
Out of all people—
Here?
The timing felt too precise to be coincidence.
He tilted his head slightly, a bit surprised himself. "You know me?"
Before I could answer, the woman beside him—Selena—spoke, her tone flat.
"Who wouldn't? You're not exactly unknown."
Samuel laughed lightly. "Yeah… fair enough."
Then his attention shifted back to me.
His eyes paused on my uniform.
"You're from the Saviant Guild?"
There was curiosity now, more focused.
I nodded. "Yes."
"Oh," he said, smiling slightly. "Nice to meet you."
He raised his hand.
I accepted it.
For a moment, it felt like a normal interaction.
Then—
He froze.
It was subtle at first. A slight tension in his grip. Then his expression changed, the relaxed smile fading as confusion took over.
Something felt off.
Even I could sense it faintly.
Not pressure.
Not hostility.
Just… something out of place.
"…You can let go now," I said calmly.
He blinked, as if pulled back.
"Ah—right. Sorry."
He released my hand immediately.
"Samuel?" Selena's voice came from beside him, this time more serious. "What happened?"
"…Nothing," he said, though it didn't sound convincing.
I didn't stay.
There was no reason to.
But as I turned to leave, a thought lingered.
"To think I would met him here out of all places…"
Not in battle.
Not in conflict.
But in something as ordinary as this.
I stepped out of the café, the noise behind me beginning to rise.
"Wait—isn't that Samuel from the Abyss Guild?"
"You're right!"
"Can I get an autograph?"
The attention shifted instantly.
Naturally.
By the time he looked back—
I was already gone.
__
Inside, Samuel remained still for a moment longer.
Because something had gone wrong.
As he had stepped forward to accept my handshake.
A faint glow appeared before his eyes.
His system.
One that rarely reacted.
And yet now—
A message surfaced.
[IMMINENT DANGER]
His expression hardened slightly.
"…What?"
He activated appraisal immediately looking at me.
[ERROR: #@@2VA@#]
That wasn't possible.
For the first time in a long while—
"Appraisal failed?"
Samuel felt uncertainty.
He looked toward the door.
"I forgot to ask his name"
But the person who caused it had already disappeared into Lumere.
___
I let out a quiet yawn as I walked through the streets of Lumere.
That encounter with Samuel lingered in my mind more than I expected. It hadn't been anything dramatic, yet something about it felt… off. The way he reacted, the brief tension in the air—it wasn't something I could ignore entirely.
Still, there was no point dwelling on it now.
I turned my steps toward the Saviant Guild headquarters within Lumere. The building stood tall among the surrounding structures, its presence understated yet unmistakable. As I entered, the familiar atmosphere settled in—orderly, efficient, calm.
The first person I noticed was Clare.
She spotted me almost immediately and walked over, her expression relaxed.
"You seem better compared to yesterday," she said.
I nodded. "Yeah. And… I forgot to say this earlier, but thank you. For helping me."
She waved it off lightly. "Don't worry about it. You're part of the guild. That's reason enough."
I hesitated for a moment before asking, "By any chance, did Leon come here?"
"That idiot?" she replied without missing a beat. "No. Haven't seen him. Why?"
"Nothing important. Just curious."
She studied me briefly, then continued, "If you're looking for someone in charge, the vice guild master handles things here."
"Vice guild master?"
"Roy," she said. "You haven't met him yet, right?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Well, unfortunate timing. He's out attending a council meeting."
"I see."
That left me with time to spare.
"Do you know where the training grounds are?"
Clare pointed down the corridor. "Straight ahead, then take a right. You'll hear it before you see it."
"That helps. Thanks."
I moved along the hallway, the sounds of metal striking metal growing clearer with each step. By the time I reached the training area, the scene had already unfolded.
A group of cadets were sparring, their movements sharp but unrefined. The moment I stepped in, several of them paused, their attention shifting toward me.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
Before anything could settle, a voice cut through the room.
"Hey. Who told you all to stop? Keep training."
The cadets flinched.
"A-ah, yes sir!"
My gaze shifted toward the source.
A man stood at the center, arms crossed, posture firm.
And above his head—
…Bald.
The thought slipped out before I could stop it.
"Huh? Who the hell are you calling bald, brat?"
I closed my eyes briefly.
"…This feels familiar."
The cadets stared at me as if I had just signed my own death sentence.
I exhaled and corrected myself. "Sir, are you somehow related to Sir Ogram?"
His expression shifted instantly.
"Oh? You know my brother?"
That explained it.
"Yes. I'm his disciple."
A grin spread across his face. "So that old bastard actually took someone in… interesting."
He rubbed his chin, studying me.
"I'm Baldur."
I nearly choked.
That name—
No, I wasn't going to comment on it.
"…Nice to meet you," I said, keeping my tone steady.
He suddenly turned, pointing toward one of the cadets.
"Hey, brat. How about you spar with my disciple?"
I followed his gaze.
A boy stepped forward.
Black hair. Black eyes. His posture was grounded, but his gaze held something sharper—intent.
Battle instinct.
He looked at me like I was something to test himself against.
A small smile formed on my face.
"…Sure. A spar sounds good."
Baldur laughed. "Good. All of you, watch closely. Try to learn something for once."
We stepped onto the platform.
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
"This will be a controlled spar," Baldur said. "No mana. Pure swordsmanship. Understood?"
We both nodded.
"Understood."
The boy stepped forward slightly.
"I'm Cayden."
"Noctis."
He studied me for a moment. "Don't underestimate me."
I loosened my grip on the sword slightly and gestured forward.
"I won't. Come at me."
His eyes sharpened.
"Fine."
He moved first.
Fast.
Not reckless—direct.
His blade cut forward in a clean arc, aiming for my shoulder. I stepped to the side, letting it pass just inches away before bringing my own sword up to counter.
Steel met steel.
A sharp sound echoed across the hall.
He didn't hesitate.
The moment our blades connected, he shifted his stance, pushing forward with controlled force. I adjusted, letting the pressure guide my movement instead of resisting it directly.
He was trained well.
His fundamentals were solid. No wasted movement, no unnecessary flair.
Again.
He struck.
This time lower.
I deflected, pivoted, and returned a quick strike toward his side. He blocked it cleanly, though the impact forced him back half a step.
Good reaction.
The cadets around us had gone silent now, their full attention locked onto the platform.
Cayden's expression sharpened further.
He stepped in again, faster this time, chaining his attacks—one, two, three—each strike flowing into the next. I met them one by one, my movements steady, controlled.
No mana.
Just instinct.
Just form.
A small realization settled in.
"…He's good."
But not enough to overwhelm.
I shifted my stance slightly.
Just enough.
The next time he struck, I didn't block directly.
I redirected.
His blade slid past mine, his balance shifting for a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
I stepped in.
My sword stopped just short of his neck.
Silence filled the hall.
Cayden froze.
So did the others.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then I lowered my blade.
"…Good fight."
He exhaled slowly, stepping back.
"…Yeah."
There was no frustration in his voice.
Only acknowledgment.
From the side, Baldur let out a low whistle.
"Well, I'll be damned."
His grin widened.
"Looks like my brother didn't pick you up for nothing."