As one of the Apex ranked Hero, Claude Darkfire strode into the grand hall with an air of regality. He wore a sharp blue suit and tie, accented by a thick, lavish white fur draped around his neck. His ticulously styled pompadour hair frad his rugged features, and his eyes, sharp as a wolf’s, glead with an intensity that seed to pierce the very souls of those around him.
As he walked, the air around him seed to ripple with his powerful aura. It was a subtle reminder of how strong he is.
Despite his commanding deanor, there was a hint of arrogance and lethargy about him, as if he was rely tolerating the attention and adoration of those around him.
As he scanned the room with his piercing gaze, his voice dropped to a low murmur. "Ugh.. I’m sick of them always telling what to do..." The words were spoken with a quiet venom, as if he were addressing so perceived injustice.
The guests, sensing the shift in his mood, recoiled slightly, their awe tempered by a newfound sense of unease. They continued to stare, captivated by his presence, yet wary of the storm brewing within him.
With a careless flick of his hand, Claude pushed back the sea of faces flocking towards him, his attendants scurrying to clear a path for him. As he approached the podium, he was handed a paper listing the order of the ceremony, but his eyes barely registered the words before he tossed it aside. The attendants scrambled to retrieve the discarded paper, while Claude himself seed entirely unfazed by the entire proceedings.
Despite the formal introductions of the ceremony, there was sothing almost primal about Claude’s presence — as if he were a force of nature that couldn’t be contained or controlled. And yet, despite his formidable reputation, there was also a sense of weariness about him, as if he was tired of being treated like an idol all day and night.
"The awarding ceremony will now begin," the host announced, his voice booming through the grand hall. "The certificate will be awarded by the Apex ranked 40 Hero, Sir Claude Darkfire."
Just as we had practiced monts before, the three of us walked up to the podium.
His piercing gaze swept over us, his eyes lingering on each of us in turn before finally settling on Cypher.
A hint of a smirk played on Claude’s lips, and I could sense a flicker of amusent in his eyes. "Are you Cypher Knoxx?" he asked, his tone low and rough, cutting through the formal atmosphere.
Cypher stepped forward, his expression calm and confident, eting Claude’s gaze without flinching. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady and clear.
Claude’s smirk deepened, and he nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "I can see why those guys want you." He paused, his eyes glinting with a predatory amusent. "You’re quite the catch, aren’t you?"
It was a peculiar sight to witness Claude, a man whose rare displays of kindness were legendary, offering words of wisdom to Cypher. But instead of urging the young man towards the prestigious alliance, he offered a stark caution. "Don’t join that so-called Hero Alliance," Claude said with an unusual, almost weary seriousness. "It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. In fact, you might be better off joining the Redhoods and becoming a rcenary instead. Being a Hero is just a burden — saving people, killing Monsters, and not to ntion, there’s no fun in it."
Cypher, however, remained entirely unswayed by Claude’s blunt assessnt. With a determined smile that didn’t waver, he declared that being a Hero simply fit his personality best. Claude’s expression twisted into a wry smile, a knowing look that suggested he had anticipated such a response all along.
Just then, Angela appeared on the scene, her eyes locking onto Claude with a potent mix of familiarity and palpable disdain. "It’s been a while," she said curtly, her tone dripping with a bitter edge.
Claude’s gaze shifted to Angela, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of sothing unreadable in their depths. "Your father asked to look after you," he said, his voice laced with a biting sarcasm that cut through the air. "But I’m not going to waste my ti on you."
B-but teacher, I-" Angela began, her voice trembling slightly.
"Shush! I don’t have a student that is a bow-user like you. Don’t call teacher again or you’ll face the consequences, got it?"
Angela’s face fell at the rebuff, and she looked up at Claude with a grumpy expression.
’You deserve that,’ I thought to myself, a chuckle bubbling up inside at the sheer absurdity of the situation. The urge to laugh out loud was strong, but Claude’s sudden, sharp scowl in my direction effectively stifled it.
He suddenly turned his attention to next, his gaze piercing.
"You are...?" he prompted, his voice neutral.
"Remillia Lockhart," I replied, standing a little straighter.
"Okay," he said, a single, flat word.
’That’s it?’ I thought, a prickle of surprise and maybe a little disappointnt. ’Wow, that hurts.’
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
"The awarding ceremony is now over." The host’s voice, amplified by the hall’s acoustics, cut through the lingering tension like a sharp knife.
With that final announcent, the ceremony officially concluded. Two grueling hours – one spent rehearsing awkward bows and forced smiles, another steeped in anxious anticipation and waiting – had culminated in a re five minutes of actual recognition. It felt anticlimatic.
As the crowd began to stir, Claude, who had been making his way towards the exit, suddenly halted, a finger tapping his chin as if a forgotten thought had just surfaced. "Oh, by the way..." he began, turning back towards us. "I almost forgot to tell you, the reward for the Rogue subjugation is ten million Glacium."
Ten million Glacium.
The number hit like a physical blow, instantly shifting my perspective. Waking up from my sleep, attending this event, the endless waiting for this damn VIP – It was all worth it.
"Anyways, good luck to the three of you," He offered a bored smile before finally exiting.
We watched him leave, then descended from the podium. Before we even touched the ground, a wave of guild reps, company recruiters, and reporters surged towards us.
However, their attention was solely focused on the other two. Not a single recruiter approached . They likely assud my presence during the incident was re luck, a byproduct of being in the right place at the right ti with the right people.
’What can I do? I’m just an extra anyway,’ With a quiet sigh, I turned and left, leaving the crowd to fawn over the two.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I made a beeline for the nearest coffee shop, the lingering exhaustion from the ceremony clinging to . All that standing around, the forced smiles, the sheer effort of it all had left completely drained.
Inside, I ordered a ridiculously large Java Chip Frappe and a plate piled high with three creampuffs. After paying, I snagged an empty table outside, gratefully sinking into the quiet hum of the street and the comforting aroma of coffee.
Leaning back, I talked to Macaron through a ntal link: ’Hey, Macaron, you done hunting?’
"Not yet..." Macaron’s voice drifted back, a little distant.
’Oh, okay. Thought you might be. I can’t possibly finish all these creampuffs by m—’ I began.
"CREAMPUFF?!" Macaron’s ntal shout was so loud it practically vibrated my teeth, a sudden, piercing blast of excitent.
"Aack!" I yelped, nearly dropping my precious frappe in surprise, the cold liquid sloshing precariously close to the rim.
The next thing I knew, Macaron was materializing beside , a shimring distortion in the air solidifying into his familiar form. His eyes were wide and practically sparkling with joy.
"I thought you weren’t done hunting yet?" I managed to say, still slightly flustered by his sudden appearance.
"h," he shrugged, a dismissive flick of his ears accompanying the gesture. He was already leaning forward, his gaze fixated on the plate of pastries. "I can just continue hunting in the afternoon. Now where is my creampuff?" he asked, his voice practically vibrating with anticipation.
"Here," I surrendered with a smile, sliding the plate towards him.
"Yay!" he chirped, already reaching for the nearest one with unreserved delight.
"Wait, before you eat, can you open the system?" I suddenly rembered to check the system updates just now.
He only flapped his wings in response, his mouth already full, as a holographic screen materialized in front of , shimring with faint blue light.
————————————
New Update Features
->Noblesee Codex has been added to your Gift
->Cybersky has been added to the system
->Spectral Seal
————————————
’I already know about the Spectral Seal, but what are these other two?’ I mused internally.
My curiosity piqued, I clicked on Cybersky.
————————————
Cybersky (allows you to hack and access limited websites with additional PP paynt)
->Primitive Minds
...
->Mad Jester
...
...
->Scarlet Phantom
————————————
Among the nurous websites, a specific na caught my attention. I clicked on it.
————————————
->Scarlet Phantom
Website for trading undisclosed information, weapons, rewards, and commissions.
(200 Popularity Points needed for finding an information)
————————————
Of course, the system wouldn’t just let access the websites for free. They want to suck all my hard earned points, those precious Popularity Points I’d accumulated.
Anyways, Scarlet Phantom was like the ’dark web’ of this world, a hidden corner where anonymity was king and anything could be bought or sold. Despite being operated illegally, it had over a million mbers, a testant to its reach and the demand for its services. What made it so special wasn’t the website itself, which was fairly standard in its layout and functionality, but the people who sold things on it.
Anyways, Scarlet Phantom is like the ’dark web’. Despite being operated illegally, it had over a million mbers. What made it so special wasn’t the website itself, but the people who sold things on it.
The sellers, scattered all around the world, were drawn to the website’s black market like moths to a fla. They traded things like weapons in different rarities, information that could topple governnts, and even commissions for tasks that no legitimate organization would touch.
But what made Scarlet Phantom different form other black markets and websites wasn’t just its scale; it was its brazen disregard for the law. The governnt knew about it, of course. How could they not, with its sheer size and the caliber of its clientele? But they had no choice but to turn a blind eye.
You see, almost all the Heroes frequented Scarlet Phantom. It was an open secret, a whispered joke that you couldn’t truly be considered a Hero unless you had a mbership to Scarlet Phantom. They used it to acquire rare artifacts, gather intelligence on their enemies, and even hire discreet help for missions that they can’t do it themselves.
Becoming a mber wasn’t easy, though. You had to pay a huge sum of money to join. But I was lucky - I only needed 200 Popularity Points to get any information or things I want, compared to the astronomical fees others had to pay. I don’t need to beco an exclusive mber, I just needed my cheat skill, the system, to grant access to this website.
"Wahaha! Hahaha!" I started laughing maniacally.
"Uhm... What are you laughing at?" A voice, soft and curious, sliced through my maniacal cackle.
"Hick!" I yelped, my laughter abruptly ceasing.
I spun around, my cheeks burning a furious red. Annabelle stood there, her head tilted, a look of polite confusion on her face.
I quickly straightened up, forcing a cough to clear my throat. "Ehem! What can I do for you?" The words felt stiff, unnatural.
She glided over, her movents, fluid and effortless as she sat down on the seat opposite . "You still rember , right?"
"Of course. We first t at the National Weapons Gallery, correct?" I said, trying to inject a casual air into my voice, my mind a frantic whirlwind of questions. Why was she here? How did she find ?
"That’s a relief. I can also see that you brought your pet with you...." Her gaze drifted to Macaron, who was on the table, happily demolishing a creampuff. "...And I can see that it’s eating a creampuff?" Annabelle finished, a hint of weirdness dancing in her eyes as she looked back at .
"Oh, he... he enjoys them. They’re his favorite," I stamred. She’s probably weirded out seeing an owl eat a bread.
"Anyways... There was sothing I wanted to give you," Annabelle reached into her sleek jacket and produced a business card. It was plain black, stark and minimalist, but the borders were a shimring gold, hinting at the power it represented.
————————————
Sovereign Legion Guild
Vice President
Annabelle Finley
————————————
I just looked at the card she handed . I know what this ans but I don’t want to join their guild.
Her calm eyes stared at mine. "Can I ask you sothing?"
"No," I said, the word sharp and imdiate.
"Are you... The one who killed the Rogue?" she asked, her voice dropping slightly, the casual curiosity replaced by sothing more intent.
Instead of answering her question, I stood up. "I’m leaving now," I pushed the card back towards her across the small table.
"What? But Remillia? Don’t you know what this ans? I’m giving you a chance to join our Guild," she said, her voice laced with surprise, maybe even a hint of frustration. A chance to join Sovereign Legion wasn’t sothing people usually turned down.
"Not interested," I reiterated as I turned my back, already taking a step away.
She must only be curious about since I can use a light-attribute aura and because my choice of weapon.
I wasn’t interested in joining any guilds since it will only lead to being ordered around. I just wanted to earn money and enjoy my life in the future.
"Macaron, let’s go," I said, already moving away from the coffee shop. Macaron landed on my shoulder with practiced ease.
I quickly left, the faint sound of Annabelle’s voice fading behind before she could launch another attempt at conversation.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Glacial Sphere Academy
My smartwatch beeped the mont I stepped into my room. The notification blood across the screen:
[You have received 10 Million Glacium from ****** w/ MSG - 2414-6018-4121 into your bank account.]
A satisfied smirk touched my lips. I had maxed out all my available funds, pouring every last fund into stocks from the Sapphire Blood Guild. My current total: 82,279 stocks. I was likely considered a major stockholder now.
Right. Because soone had interrupted my business at the coffee shop a while ago, diverting my focus. Annabelle. Her unexpected appearance had montarily derailed my concentration on the system updates I needed to review.
"Macaron, open the system again," I said as I walked into the living room.
The system interface materialized before , the familiar lines of code and data highlighting the new entry.
Spectral Seal.
I already know the na and concept but how do I use it?
"Spectral Seal?" I muttered as I held out my hand, mimicking the gestures I’ve seen in movies or read in novels with similar abilities.
Nothing.
No flicker of energy, no subtle ripple in the surroundings, no visual manifestation. Just the empty air.
’Hmmm. What if I need a wand before I can use this power?’ The thought, fleeting and illogical, crossed my mind.
No. That’s ridiculous. Awakened ones from this world don’t use wands. They channel their abilities, their aura, and their Gifts through their own bodies and the very fabric of the surroundings.
"I’ll figure this out myself," I said, the determination solidifying within .
I relaxed my nerves, letting the tension drain away, focusing my mind inward.
I closed my eyes and began to imagine. I visualized the power, not as an external force, but as sothing within , waiting to be called upon. I imagined the feeling of it flowing, of it manifesting.
Suddenly, I felt it. A subtle warm pressure against my sternum. The mark etched onto my skin, began to glow faintly beneath my clothes. Aura. It was flowing through my veins, a current of energy surging within .
As I opened my palm, extending my hand before , a small, ethereal yellowish fla popped into existence above my open hand. It pulsed with a soft light, a contained manifestation of the power I had just felt.
I first tried making a shape, focusing my intent on the fla. It responded, morphing and shifting. The yellowish fla turned into a square, its edges sharp and defined. Then, with another thought, it flowed into a perfect circle. Finally, it twisted and reford into a triangle. It worked. The ease with which it responded filled with a surge of excitent. Finally, I could also wield my own aura.
Probably because of what I was feeling at that mont, my aura got out of control. The contained yellowish fla above my hand wasn’t enough to hold the surging energy. My aura started shooting everywhere, like a volcano erupting, small bursts of yellow aura erupted from my hand and radiated outwards.
Macaron, who had been perched on a nearby desk, minding his own business, was suddenly in the middle of the uncontrolled aura spray. He let out a startled squawk and tried to fan out the erratic flas with his wings, his fluffy feathers narrowly avoiding being burned.
"Hey! Watch it!" Macaron said, his voice a sharp. His usual calm deanor was ruffled, quite literally. My sudden burst of uncontrolled aura had clearly disrupted his peaceful sleep.
I was screaming while running around in circles. "Shut up! Help out here instead!"
"Can’t you see that I’m helping? I’m trying to extinguish the flas!" Macaron said, flapping his wings frantically to keep the embers from touching his feathers.
"Macaron!" I said, my voice strained with panic.
"Okay! Okay! Just relax! Don’t panic. Calm your nerves so that your power can also calm down," Macaron said, his chirps now softer, more reassuring.
I did what he instructed, focusing on slow, deep breaths. My frantic energy began to subside, the swirling chaos in my aura slowly quieting.
"Whew!" I said, catching my breath, my voice calr now.
After the last spark of the yellow flas subsided, thanks to Macaron’s frantic efforts, I finally sat down, a wave of exhaustion washing over .
"Master, next ti, if you want to destroy anything, can you please go outside?!" Macaron said, his voice slightly muffled by panting.
"Are you lecturing right now? Besides, I am the one paying our expenses, especially the food you’re eating right now," I countered, gesturing towards the half-eaten lasagna on the table.
Macaron awkwardly put down the lasagna, his little wings scratching at the table as he tried to hide his blush.
"Ehehe... I’m just joking. You know what master, you can do anything as you like, I’m just gonna go out to fly," Macaron said, already turning towards the window. He practically leaped out the window, clearly eager to escape any further scolding.
I just shook my head at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
I used my power again. This ti, I was thinking about the Noblesee Codex. Strands of yellow glowing thread branched together and ford a book. Its pages, shimring with arcane light, unfurled, revealing intricate diagrams and symbols.
Strands of yellow glowing thread branched together and ford a book. Its cover is adorned with intricate, swirling patterns that seem to shift and shimr in the light. The book’s pages are made of a strange, glowing material that appears to be neither paper nor parchnt. My eyes glowed in golden hue as I stared at the book.
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