Chapter 18 – Was He Just Tricked?

Mark remained motionless at the center of the arena, the silence suddenly heavy after the automaton shut down.

He lifted his gaze toward the observation booth’s glass, noticing the silhouette of that white-haired woman with the cold expression still watching him.

Even from that distance, her aura was different from anything he had seen in the guild so far.

He was confused for a moment, but it didn’t bother him; in his mind, she was probably just another high-ranking examiner sent to supervise the “rank jump” test.

Perhaps that was the standard procedure when someone tried to skip directly to a higher rank.

‘My performance was enough… right?’

Looking now at the three-meter figure standing there without power, its head lowered and its arms hanging like useless scrap, Mark let out a sigh of pity.

He had really gotten carried away fighting the golem.

But the battle had left him refreshed. He could feel a lingering satisfaction running through his muscles, the kind of adrenaline that only real physical combat could provide.

If the fight had continued for a few more minutes, Mark was certain he could have completely broken that thing apart.

Of course, he had no intention of doing that.

Not intentionally.

He didn’t know whether the guild charged for destroying test equipment, but one thing was certain: the registration fee he had paid for the rank jump wouldn’t come close to covering the repair costs of a “Grade 4 unit.”

Mark couldn’t even begin to calculate how much it cost to build a golem of that magnitude. To design something so robust, capable of withstanding blows for that long, its creator had to be a true genius.

It was a masterpiece of engineering.

His curiosity about the inventor grew even more. This world had so many interesting things he didn’t know about.

While his thoughts wandered, the sound of metal striking metal echoed.

The side door of the arena was flung open.

Mila rushed in, her face flushed from exertion and her hands pressed against her chest as she tried to steady her uneven breathing.

She looked like she had crossed the entire guild in record time, a thin layer of sweat running down her forehead. Panting, Mila approached Mark and stopped at a respectful distance while trying to catch her breath.

“Sir… Vaelin…” she said, breathing heavily. “The test… has been ended by higher orders. You may come upstairs now to continue the registration process. Someone very important… wishes to see you personally.”

Someone very important?

Mark frowned.

He immediately thought of the woman upstairs watching him and couldn’t help glancing toward the window again, but the figure was no longer there.

Despite a twinge of suspicion, Mark still agreed to the request.

“Alright. Lead the way.”

“Please follow me!” Mila quickly guided him out of the arena after casting one last discreet glance at the deactivated Golem.

They left the arena area behind. As they climbed a spiral staircase leading to the upper levels of the building, Mila didn’t say a single word.

She simply kept her shoulders tense and her eyes fixed on the path ahead. Mark, on the other hand, used the walk to observe.

Everything in that wing of the guild screamed authority and money. The walls were thicker, the doors had detailed carvings, and the lighting came from high-quality light crystals.

It felt as if he were climbing the floors of an office building to meet his boss in his previous life.

Finally, Mila stopped in front of a pair of dark oak double doors adorned with the design of a sword and staff. She took a deep breath, trying to straighten her uniform before turning to Mark.

“The Guild’s Vice-Leader is waiting for you inside.” Mila whispered, her voice nearly fading away. “Please be… formal.”

Vice-Leader of the guild?

Before Mark could question it, the door opened.

His eyes naturally wandered inside, observing the interior.

The office was spacious, with tall windows offering a privileged view of the city, but his focus went straight to the figure seated across the room behind a mahogany desk.

It was the same white-haired woman he had seen in the observation booth.

Up close, her presence was even more striking. Her hair was such a pure white that it seemed to emit a dull glow under the sunlight, framing a face with delicate features and an expression that revealed absolutely nothing.

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Isolda sat with her hands folded on the desk, watching him with sky-blue eyes.

“Enter.”

Her voice was short, raw, and devoid of any courtesy.

Upon hearing the command, Mila made a quick bow.

“I’ll leave you alone, ma’am.” She quickly stepped back and closed the doors, leaving Mark in the absolute silence of that room.

He looked at the woman and said nothing, but his mind held several questions.

Isolda simply pointed to the leather chair in front of her desk.

“Sit.”

“…” Mark.

After staring at her for a few more seconds, he walked to the chair and sat down, keeping his back straight and his expression neutral.

He used the silence to analyze the woman in front of him. Isolda wore a navy-blue robe with an impeccable military cut, not a single fold out of place. But what truly caught his attention was the small metallic plate pinned to her chest.

The material shifted between bright silver and deep blue depending on the angle of the light, an iridescence Mark immediately recognized.

It was the same hue as the platinum coins he carried.

‘Platinum Rank…’

Even though he didn’t know how strong someone of that rank would be, he could already imagine the scale considering that a Gold Rank adventurer was already extremely rare.

Having someone of that caliber acting as vice-leader of a guild in a city like Luminaris seemed excessive.

Or a clear sign that the city was far more important than he had imagined.

Isolda was in no hurry either. She evaluated him with an intense gaze, as if trying to see through his cloak.

Mark remained silent, returning the stare.

As Isolda watched him, he couldn’t help a passing thought about Pippin.

The small servant was curled beneath the fabric of the cloak, clutching his tunic. Mark knew the [Threat Dissipation Cloak] was effective, but standing in front of someone of Platinum Rank was a variable he had not tested yet.

What if she noticed something?

Isolda’s blue eyes lowered briefly, stopping at the folds of Mark’s heavy cloak. For a second, her focus seemed to sharpen, as if she were trying to filter through the layers of magical protection to see what was hidden there.

Mark kept his breathing steady, showing no sign of discomfort.