The map store inside the Guild House was an expansive marketplace, bustling with vendors selling an array of maps that catered to different needs. So were highly outdated, others outright forgeries, and a handful were standard-issue. However, finding a truly detailed map was the real challenge.
It was expected, of course. There had been sothing similar in the ga as well.
So maps were old, relics of past cartographers who had long since faded into history. Others were crude imitations ant to deceive the inexperienced. While obtaining an average map was easy, acquiring sothing more precise, sothing truly useful, was another matter entirely.
It would have been better if soone could get their hands on a Way Finder... but for that, I’d need to cross the entire world, wouldn’t I?
Asher mulled over the thought for a mont before consulting his system.
A notification appeared imdiately.
{Yes. You should settle for what exists in this store.}
Asher nodded slightly, acknowledging the system’s response, and returned to his search.
He scanned the maps from a distance, his sharp gaze moving over the stalls as though searching for a hidden sign within them. He stepped deeper into the marketplace, letting his instincts guide him. Then, as if fate had intervened, he spotted sothing.
Thanks to his Eye of Insight, a distinct na appeared before him.
{Advanced Map, Made by Sky Hand.}
His lips curled slightly. This was it—his original target.
Back in the ga, before anyone had discovered the existence of Way Finders—those legendary maps that magically redrew themselves to guide their users anywhere—most professional players had relied on maps crafted by Sky Hand. These maps had been the best, second only to the fabled Way Finders.
Without wasting ti, Asher approached the small, unassuming shop and picked up the map he sought. Holding it in his hand, he carefully activated {Soul Space}, a skill he had unlocked back in the Exorcist Kingdom.
A faint red swirl manifested in his palm, pulsating like a living ember. A mont later, a silver coin materialized within his grasp, and the swirl disappeared.
With the paynt secured, Asher placed the silver coin on the counter and finalized the purchase.
As he turned to leave, a thought crossed his mind.
By now, those guys should be done with their leisure...
He considered taking a break himself, maybe grabbing a al in the restaurant section. Back when he had been behind the computer screen, simply playing the ga, he would take breaks whenever he pleased. But now, existing within this world, he had to be more responsible. Every choice had weight. Every action had consequences. A single mistake could an his death—again.
His thoughts flickered back to the Exorcist Kingdom. To the mont he had died.
And co to think of it, I haven’t really had a conversation with that bastard controlling . I still wonder... how much of does he control, and how much of my choices are truly my own?
"Asher Vance? The Dark Exorcist? The charming half?"
A deep, gravelly voice called his na, pulling him from his thoughts.
"I heard you’re popular among won."
Asher turned, arching a brow in mild surprise. He pointed to himself and parted his lips slightly, taken aback by the last part of that statent. He knew of his other titles, but popular among won?
Huh. Never really gave that much thought... but now that I think about it, maybe there’s so truth to it.
The man standing before him was a towering beastman, his hulking fra casting a large shadow over the marketplace. Three others stood behind him—two females and another male—all dressed in similar gear, marking them as a unified group.
Asher offered them a casual wave.
"Hey."
His tone was friendly, his expression relaxed, devoid of any hostility. However, the beastman’s aura was different. There was an edge to it, a primal hunger. This was a man who lived for the thrill of combat.
How... nostalgic.
A silent standoff began between them, the air growing thick with anticipation. The beastman’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. Asher, on the other hand, rely clasped his left hand over his right wrist, waiting. He had no need to draw his weapon—yet.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the beastman lunged.
His speed was imnse, his force terrifying. He was coming straight at Asher—until, at the last mont, he did sothing entirely unexpected.
With a sudden, razor-sharp turn, he veered away from Asher and leapt into a shop like a true predator.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Custors shrieked and stumbled backward as chaos erupted within the stall. The beastman erged monts later, gripping a man by the collar—his body limp, unconscious.
The captured figure was clad in desert attire—ancient white robes, his face concealed by cloth wrapped around his head and mouth.
Asher narrowed his eyes.
"A spy?" he muttered under his breath.
How had he not sensed the mana shift? How had this man remained undetected?
The beastman grunted, shaking the spy violently. "The scum was wearing dragon-scaled clothing. No wonder he was so damn hard to track down."
Hearing this, Asher exhaled softly. "Then I should be glad we’re partners."
One of the beastwon, a stunning individual with striking features, suddenly rushed forward. Without hesitation, she threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his torso.
"Yes, Lord Asher!" she purred, pressing herself into him.
Asher cleared his throat, his hands awkwardly trying to pry her off. "Sasha, what did I say about personal space?"
She shook her head stubbornly, tightening her grip. "No. I was the one who tracked down the spy with my nose. And besides, last ti it was Valerie who got to hug you—not ."
Her warmth against his side was... quite pleasant.
Well, as I always say, don’t judge a bra by its cover—put your hand inside and discover...
Before he could entertain the thought further, murmurs began to rise among the onlookers.
"Hey, did you see that?"
"They just killed soone inside the Guild House."
"Isn’t that illegal here?"
"This is outrageous! They should be reported!"
The tension escalated rapidly, spreading like wildfire through the crowd. Then, with a single motion, the beastman pulled sothing from his pocket—a white scroll.
As soon as the people saw it, their voices hushed. Their anger dissipated. As if so unspoken law had been invoked, they averted their gazes and went back to their business, pretending nothing had happened.
Asher’s breath hitched.
That scroll...
That was his long-lost dream.
The License to Kill.
As the last traces of unrest faded, the beastman—Grull—dropped the spy’s body to the ground without a hint of care.
"We tracked him down from the Fallen Clan," he said, his tone grave. "You’re being targeted, Lord Asher. I suggest you start watching your back more carefully."
Asher nodded slowly. "I will... but did you find it?"
Valerie, the second beastwoman, stepped forward, reaching into her pocket bag—a small enchanted satchel capable of holding items far greater in size than itself. From within, she retrieved a carefully folded piece of parchnt.
She handed it to him.
"This is the map to finding the Lost Clan," she said, her voice asured. "Along with so information we gathered about them."
She hesitated, her expression darkening.
"And trust ... what you’re about to hear won’t be pleasant."
A strange tinge ran through Asher’s chest as he took the map from her hands.
Not pleasant?
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