Fifteen minutes later.
A slightly battered cart rolled to a slow stop beside the busiest street in the eastern part of the Outer Ring District.
Tylen jumped down from the cart and looked up at the imposing eight-story building before him.
A huge sign hung above the main entrance. Four characters—White Cloud Eye—were written in the elegant, ornate script of the Golden Thorn Dynasty's nobles from the Second Era.
The letters curled and twisted like roses blooming among golden thorns, exuding an ancient, refined air of nobility.
Quinn Street was the largest market for magical materials in the entire Outer Ring District.
People streamed in and out of the entrance: Official Wizards in finely tailored robes, senior apprentices hurrying about, and even hooded traders from other races. Business was booming.
Tylen tied the old horse to a hitching post by the roadside, then reached into his coat and felt the hard scroll there. He checked for the seventh time that it was still in place, then took a deep breath and strode inside.
As he pushed open the heavy double oak doors, a faint scent of ink and parchment washed over him.
Inside was a spacious, brightly lit lobby. Directly ahead, a spiral staircase led to the second floor, its banister polished to a mirror sheen.
Long mahogany counters lined both sides of the lobby.
The counter on the left was covered with an assortment of raw materials for Runic Studies, from basic Starlight Parchment and Dragonblood Grass Ink to precision Mithril Engraving Knives and Crystal Measuring Rulers. It had everything one could need.
The counter on the right was lined with completed rune scrolls.
They were sorted by function: combat, healing, reconnaissance, traps... The colorful labels dazzled the eye.
However, Tylen's arrival disrupted the lobby's otherwise harmonious atmosphere.
He had taken off his apprentice uniform, which was stained with blood, but the shirt underneath still carried a faint smell of blood.
Worse, a lingering stench of corpses clung to him. To spellcasters with sensitive noses, it was practically a biological weapon.
"What's that smell?"
"Ugh, it reeks..."
The customers browsing on both sides frowned, covered their noses, and shot Tylen disgusted looks.
Seeing this, a young doorman stationed at the entrance hurried over.
He looked Tylen up and down, taking in his shabby appearance, and made no effort to hide his disgust.
"Hey! You, the corpse collector! Get lost!"
The doorman waved his arms as if shooing away a bothersome fly.
"We don't take corpses here! Don't bring bad luck inside! Now get out!"
Tylen didn't get angry or argue.
He merely gave the doorman a calm look, then turned toward the exit.
The doorman snorted and turned back to his post.
Just then,
a hand suddenly reached out and grabbed the doorman by the wrist.
"What are you doing?!"
The doorman jumped, ready to snap at him, but the corner of his eye caught sight of something.
Through the slightly open front of Tylen's coat, a palm-sized, yellow-brown metal token was visible.
The relief of a roaring lion on its surface glinted coldly in the sunlight.
That was... Lord Cain's token?!
The doorman's eyes widened in shock. The disgust in them gave way to disbelief.
As someone who made his living on this street, he knew all too well what that token meant.
"Shh."
Tylen put a finger to his lips and spoke in a low voice by the doorman's ear.
"I'm here on my mentor's orders. I have an important matter to discuss with your boss."
The doorman understood at once.
This wasn't some poor wretch who collected corpses. He was clearly a trusted subordinate of some important figure, keeping a low profile!
"P-please wait!"
The doorman's attitude changed in an instant. His earlier contempt turned into utmost respect, even a hint of flattery.
"I'll inform the boss! He'll be right with you!"
With that, the doorman sprinted up the spiral staircase to the second floor, moving so fast you'd think his backside was on fire.
Less than a minute later, he came hurrying back down, panting. He bowed and gestured for Tylen to follow.
"Sir, the boss will see you. This way."
The doorman led Tylen up the spiral staircase to the second floor.
The surroundings were more private and luxurious than those downstairs.
The first thing that caught Tylen's eye was a spacious lounge with thick, deep-pile carpeting.
Quiet corridors stretched out on either side, lined with private suites that had strict privacy protections.
The doorman led Tylen to Room 202 at the end of the corridor. He knocked softly, then respectfully opened the door.
"Come in."
Tylen entered the room.
It was a tastefully decorated office.
A middle-aged man in a blue silk robe sat behind a broad desk.
He was slightly plump, fair-skinned, and had the dignified bearing of someone accustomed to a position of power.
At that moment, he was leaning back in his chair, idly turning the enormous jade ring on his thumb.
When Tylen entered, the middle-aged man frowned slightly. He had evidently caught the faint smell of blood, too.
"What happened to you? Why are you in such a state?"
The man's voice was low and resonant, carrying an air of authority.
Tylen stood before the desk with his hands at his sides. His tone was respectful and composed.
"Sir, I was attacked on the way here. I killed several people to defend myself."
The middle-aged man's brows rose slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes.
He waved to the doorman, signaling him to close the door and leave.
When the door shut, only the two of them remained in the room.
"What do you need?" the middle-aged man asked.
Rather than answer directly, Tylen cautiously asked, "Are you the owner of the White Cloud Eye Rune Shop?"
The middle-aged man nodded. "Yes."
Tylen asked again, "May I ask your name?"
The middle-aged man seemed to be growing impatient. He tapped his fingers on the desk. "Karen Stephenson."
At the sound of that name, Tylen finally let out a long breath.
He bowed again, his tone sincere.
"Please forgive me, Mr. Stephenson. This is my first time carrying out a task for my mentor. I had to be careful to make sure I delivered it to the right person."
Then he asked, "May I ask what you and my mentor arranged for today?"
This was the final confirmation.
Looking at the overly cautious boy before him, Stephenson finally let a playful smile curl his lips.
"Your teacher asked you to bring me a scroll."
"Phew..."
Tylen relaxed completely.
He carefully took the scroll, warmed by his body heat, from inside his coat. Holding it in both hands, he respectfully set it on the desk.
"This is what my mentor asked me to deliver to you."
Stephenson didn't put the scroll away right away.
He picked it up calmly, broke its seal, and unrolled it to take a look.
Then he suddenly held it out to Tylen, wearing a knowing smile.
"Take a look. Your teacher left these instructions specifically for you. They explain how you'll work with me from here on out, along with the password."
Tylen froze for a moment.
But he didn't reach out to take it. He didn't even glance at the scroll.
He lowered his head and stared at his toes, his voice respectful but firm.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"My mentor ordered me never to look at anything written on it."
The air in the room froze.
Stephenson slowly rose to his feet.
The terrifying pressure of an Official Wizard poured from him like a rising tide, instantly filling the entire room.
Tylen felt a weight press down on his shoulders, as if a mountain had been dropped on him. Even breathing became difficult.
"Are you questioning me?"
Stephenson's voice turned icy. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.
"This scroll contains your teacher's orders! I'm telling you to read it. You dare refuse?"
Under that terrifying pressure, beads of sweat broke out across Tylen's forehead.
Still, he didn't raise his head or retreat a single step.
He held his breath, remaining respectful in his posture, but his voice was harder than steel.
"Mr. Stephenson."
"I can't know whether the orders on the scroll are genuine, or whether what you're telling me is true."
"As an apprentice, I follow only the orders my teacher gives me in person."
"My teacher ordered me not to look at anything written on it."
"That is my rule."
Silence.
A deathly silence.
Stephenson stared at Tylen. The pressure grew heavier, as though he were about to crush the insolent apprentice underfoot.
Yet Tylen kept his head bowed, as stubborn as a rock.
After a long while,
"Hmph."
Stephenson suddenly snorted. His terrifying pressure vanished without a trace.
He dropped back into his chair, the same dignified, languid smile returning to his face, as if nothing had happened.
"That's enough."
Stephenson waved a hand. A hint of approval crept into his voice.
"Go back and tell your teacher I've received it."
Only then did Tylen raise his head. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and bowed again.
"Yes, sir."
With that, he turned to leave.
Just as his hand was about to touch the doorknob, Stephenson spoke again.
"By the way, how much do you know about the theory of Magic Resonance in Runic Studies?"
Tylen stopped and turned around, his face showing just the right amount of confusion and humility.
"I'm sorry, sir. I've only just begun my studies. I don't know much about advanced magical theory."
Stephenson gave him a long look, smiled, and waved him away.
"Go."
After Tylen left the room and his footsteps faded into the distance,
Stephenson waved a hand.
A huge Mercury Mirror slowly appeared on the wall opposite the desk.
The mirror rippled, revealing a scene from the twenty-third floor of Cain Wizard Tower.
Makley sat in a high-backed chair, holding a cup of black tea and smiling as he watched.
"Sir."
Stephenson bowed slightly to Makley in the mirror, his voice filled with admiration.
"Your eye is as sharp and accurate as ever."
"Magnus may not look especially talented, and his magical sensitivity seems utterly ordinary, but his character... He really is a rare talent."
"Faced with my pressure and temptation, he didn't let a single thing slip. He held firm to his principles."
"That kind of self-control is impressive. Even many fifth- or sixth-level apprentices would lose their composure if I tried to intimidate them like that, let alone a level-zero apprentice. But he still remembered your orders. Very impressive."
On the other side of the mirror, Makley put down his teacup. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile he couldn't suppress.
"Haha, Karen. I knew you'd say that."
"From now on, we'll have that boy handle the errands for our business dealings."
"You saw it yourself. He's cautious and sensible, and more importantly—he knows how to hide his abilities."
"He was so good at Magic Resonance on the street just now, yet he still pretended not to understand magical theory in front of you."
Stephenson smiled too and nodded.
"Indeed. It's rare to find someone his age with such poise and maturity."
"The incident on Truth Avenue just now came to my attention, too."
"I have to say, my lord, your place is practically a talent wholesale market."
"A few years ago, you got Violet Star, a once-in-a-generation talent. Now you've got Magnus, a seasoned and steady sort."
Steampunk sighed, his tone tinged with envy.
"Compared to your people, my apprentices are complete idiots."
"All they do is ask me for resources or cause trouble. They've nearly given me a brain hemorrhage several times."
Makley burst out laughing, clearly in an excellent mood.
"All right, enough complaining. The kid really does have a talent for runes, especially when it comes to applying what he learns to real situations."
"When you have time, you can teach him a thing or two."
"After all, he runs errands for me. He needs to be able to protect himself, or he might actually die on the road one day."
Steampunk nodded and promised solemnly, "You can count on me. As long as the kid proves steady and reliable, I'll make sure he gets something out of it."
The twenty-third floor of Cain Wizard Tower.
The communication ended, and the Mercury Mirror slowly faded away.
Makley could no longer keep up his inscrutable mentor act. He slapped his thigh and laughed with excitement.
"Good! Excellent! Just wonderful!"
Tylen's performance throughout today's tests had been practically flawless!
At the Church, he'd known how to exploit Father Logan's weakness for money, borrow his authority, and quickly build a network of connections.
On Truth Avenue, when Haige provoked him, he'd known how to use the Wizard Tower's rules to demand a duel.
He'd not only killed his enemy fair and square, but also paid off the guards and protected himself.
He'd been a little short on experience, suffering successive sneak attacks from the thugs and the siblings. But he'd reacted quickly, learned from his mistakes, and hadn't let himself get ambushed a second time.
Finally, when Steampunk tested him, he'd shown absolute loyalty and principles.
Every single thing he'd done had exceeded Makley's expectations.
"Of course, he's not without his flaws."
Makley rubbed his chin, recalling the way Tylen had scrimped and calculated along the road.
The kid was remarkably practiced and casual when it came to spending the public funds he had on hand.
He'd paid off Father Logan and the guards, and had even considered secretly buying himself something tasty.
It was clear that the kid had made good use of his position to line his own pockets.
Even on the way to the White Cloud Eye shop, he'd kept muttering about how to use the corpse-collection business to make himself some money, then started thinking about how to falsify the accounts and balance the books.
But did Makley consider that a flaw?
No!
It was practically the best quality of all!
"People who truly aren't greedy are the ones you have to watch out for."
Makley gave a cold laugh.
"If you don't want money, women, or power... then what do you want? My position? Or my life?"
"People who wear their desires on their faces are the easiest to control."
Throughout the whole process, Makley had clearly seen just how desperately Tylen craved money and a higher station in life.
That craving was the best leash of all.
"The kid is mature and cautious, with excellent people skills."
"He knows how to repay kindness, and he has a conscience and a bottom line."
"He learns quickly, and he craves both knowledge and money."
"This is the trusted confidant I've been looking for!"
Makley rose and walked to the window, gazing down at the bustling city. Ambition glimmered in his eyes.
"With a disciple like him, I have plenty of ways to make him serve me loyally."
"Now that he's passed the test, it's time to give the kid a little reward and teach him something useful."
Thinking back to the series of assassinations that day, Makley's expression darkened slightly.
After spending so many years in a position of power, he'd somewhat forgotten how brutal life was at the bottom.
The madness those lowly people could show for even the tiniest chance to rise above their station was truly chilling.
"Looks like I'll have to prepare a decent defensive spell for him..."
"He probably won't be able to master magic, but he's pretty good at runes."
"Then I'll give him a set of defensive runes!"
Makley turned at once and cheerfully went to search through his collection of books. He picked them out with several times more care than he showed during his daily lessons.
While Makley was deciding which runes to teach Tylen, Tylen had already driven back to Saint Rest Church.
When Father Logan saw him return, he walked over with a beaming smile. "You're in luck, kid. I've taken care of the corpse of the drug overdose and the baby's body."
Tylen immediately smiled. "Thank you for your kindness, Father!"
He took two 500-denomination Purple Gold Coins from his chest and handed them over with both hands, smiling. "Sorry for the trouble!"
Father Logan smoothly slipped the 1,000 Purple Gold Coins into his sleeve, then waved. Two gravediggers carried a large and a small corpse and laid them on Tylen's handcart.
Father Logan smiled and asked, "I've got two more bodies that just came in. Do you want them? No one's claimed them, so I'll sell you both for 100 Purple Gold Coins."
Tylen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of bodies? Can I have a look?"
Father Logan then led Tylen to the side hall where the church kept its corpses. When the white cloth covering them was pulled back, Tylen's eyes filled with complicated emotions.
The corpses belonged to the very siblings who had attacked him earlier.
Judging by their postures, it seemed that someone had even desecrated them.
After a few seconds of silence, Tylen took out 100 Purple Gold Coins. "All right. I'll take them."
Before you continue