The Mage Faction was a lofty, white tower located at the foot of Felicity Hills, the same place where the Zacriya family held the royal banquet.

As with the other magic-affiliated landmarks in the capital, there were always people—locals and tourists alike—roaming around the area. Some circled about for walks, while others took their chances hoping to encounter good-looking, talented mages from prominent families.

As of now, the Mage Faction in Nolmes appeared closer to a tourist site than a professional headquarters.

Only its frontage, though. The rest of the tower was still highly confidential, open only to registered mages in the faction.

It was currently late afternoon, and the faction was at its busiest stage of the day. Dozens trickling in and out of its vicinity, carrying liveliness and vibrancy with their steps.

An arch bridge adjoined the ground and the tower entrance. As usual, two guards stood on opposite sides of the arch bridge's pathway, regulating the flow of approved visitors and faction members.

The sun shone brightly above their heads, and one of the guards, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, released a yawn.

"It's pretty warm for a mid-autumn day."

"You're right. If I remember correctly, last year around this time was already cold enough to wear pelted jackets." His taller coworker agreed, only to start frowning the very next moment. "Apparently, prices are going up for those jackets this year."

"They are?"

"My wife told me. Especially the trendy, sturdy ones. Y'know? The ones from Adalan."

“Ah—the gigasnow pelts?” The first guard clicked his tongue. "It's the Adalarians. Them and their crazy drive for adventures. They're hunting them all down."

He was about to say something else, but the words ended up trickling down his throat after noticing someone approaching in the distance.

"Wallas, look. Who is that…" The taller guard squinted his eyes, trying to discern the blurry silhouette.

Although the frontage of the Mage Faction was usually packed with lingering townspeople, there was something distinct about the approaching figure. His posture, the way he took every stride, the overall aura—all these signs together made up a noble.

The person was concealed entirely under their cloak, but as the guard narrowed his eyes, he caught a strand of symbolic red that flew from beneath the hood.

Hold on. Red?

"No way."

The two of them shared a dumbfounded glance toward the unexpected guest.

"His Highness? That's Crown Prince Dolan, right?"

"What's His Highness doing here? Alone as well? Where are his usual guards?"

As if this wasn't enough of a shock, the guards soon realised that two more figures were behind the cloaked Crown Prince. Unlike Dolan Zacriya, these two didn't bother with the hood coverage and allowed their identities to expose to the public. This time around, the guards easily recognised who they were.

Behind the Crown Prince and to the left was the runnerup of the Wulin Tournament, Beast Tamer Celio. To the right of him…

The guard, Wallas, subconsciously gulped.

Suddenly, the sunlight didn't seem so warm anymore.

Crowds of people patched out in different areas of the front, but strange enough, none of them seemed to notice the conspicuous trio as they made their way to the foot of the arch bridge.

At the Crown Prince's presence, two guards moved simultaneously, entering a precise, fifty-five degrees bow as they pressed their right palm over their heart.

"Your Highness."

"No need for the formalities," Dolan brushed them off as he headed straight to the entrance.

"Y-Your Highness, only mages are allowed in the faction," Wallas said hesitantly, his eyes darting between the red-haired man and the two behind him. "What business brings you here? With these, these guests as well."

The Crown Prince halted in his steps and turned towards him. Wallas instinctively lowered his eyes.

"Perhaps we can relay the message?" The taller guard, Faybo, spoke up in an amicable, careful tone, observing the smallest changes of attitude.

"Some personal business. It's nothing to be worried about."

"But His Majesty said…"

The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes, and Faybo closed his mouth.

Under any other scenarios, the Crown Prince's presence at the faction would be nothing but a pleasant surprise. Since he was an Awakened mage himself, he would be let through immediately. In fact, even if it were just the Crown Prince and the beast tamer, they would have been let through.

But the current situation was a bit different.

Wallas and Faybo exchanged glances, at a loss of what to do. The former snuck a cautious glimpse at the trio, eyes landing on a certain dark-haired man.

What was the Fallen Prophet doing here?

Although Wallas was just a palace guard and naturally had no say in the matters of royal affairs, even he's heard of the rumours surrounding this traveller. Tempest Initiator, Hypnotist, Fallen Prophet… Countless titles and achievements associated with the traveller standing before him were flying through his mind one after another.

Suddenly, Wallas froze.

Hypnotist.

What if the Fallen Prophet had somehow hypnotised His Highness? The man obviously came to the kingdom with intentions in mind. Considering everything he'd done in Nolmes in the past months, it wasn't an unreasonable guess.

Amidst his speculations, Wallas accidentally made direct eye contact with him.

His pale complexion glimmered under the mellow sunlight, and his hair, having grown just past his ears, fluttered with the breeze. The dark-haired man, noticing his dazed look, smiled at him.

It was a gentle, well-mannered smile. Pretty, too. But for some reason, Wallas still felt goosebumps crawling up his back.

The Crown Prince paid no attention to Wallas's trance as he strode past him and crossed the arch bridge. The beast tamer and the traveller followed behind him, the former giving the two guards a slight bow as they crossed paths. At the grand entry gates, Dolan Zacriya pressed his palm onto the identifier on the side.

Both gate doors swung open the next second, and the three disappeared into the tower.

It was only until they were entirely out of sight that both guards exhaled, releasing the breath they'd been unknowingly holding in for the longest time.

"So intimidating…" Faybo rubbed his face, wiping away the layer of sweat spread across his forehead. "What do we do now? That was His Highness, right? And the two behind him are the ones from the tournament…"

"His Highness might be hypnotised," Wallas said with a grave expression.

"Hypno…Hypnotised?!"

Recalling the Crown Prince's insistence and the Fallen Prophet's meaningful smile, he shook his head, pushing all hesitation to the back of his head. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Find Commander Poet. Now." Wallas spun towards Faybo with urgent eyes. "Tell him we have trouble."

***

Dolan Zacriya strode down the reflective, white floors, his surcoat fluttering behind him and his every step echoing through the space. Behind him, Edris and Celio trickled along; the former perked his head here and there in awe, and the latter strolled with leisure, appreciating the faction's interior fashion.

Rather than a working space, the Mage Faction—at least its ground floor—gave off the impression of a social ballroom.

The Mage Faction was built extending upwards. Currently on the ground floor, they were surrounded by refineries, from glass pillars to layered fountain displays. Situated at the centre of this floor was a grand staircase, its ivory steps winding up in an seemingly interminable spiral.

The faction's main hall acted like an inn's lobby, reserved for social interactions and basic work registrations. Aside from the administrative counters, this floor also accommodated several restaurants and cafes, many of which had patios that acted as sites of conversation for the faction workers.

Now that the Crown Prince managed to get them to the interior, there was no need for him to continue with the disguise. He pulled large hood behind him, exposing his red hair that stood out like a blood stain in the ivory space.

His cloak, having been custom-made, allowed Dolan to conceal the presence of himself as well as three of his companions.

Dolan knew that the Mage Faction only allowed entries of registered people. Magnus had run off somewhere again, and it would have been too much of a hassle to request non-member entry, so he went with the most efficient pathway and pulled the Crown Prince card.

If Treo were here, he would be shaking his head with his signature "what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you" smile, and if Magnus were here, he would be ripping his hair out, scolding him for the extra work Dolan had tossed on his plate.

Well, in the archmage's case, it was his fault for running off in the first place, so Dolan didn't feel as guilty.

Pushing these thoughts aside, he refocused on the scene before them.

Any form of conversation occurring less than a minutes ago had dissolved into thin air, throwing the faction's ground floor into dead silence.

Countless pairs of eyes fixed on the three new bodies standing centre floor.

Even though everyone in this building was an Awakened mage, as with the average citizen, it was their first time seeing the Crown Prince in such proximity. And not to mention, out of thin air.

When they noticed the dark-haired traveller and the young beast tamer, even more confusion filled the room. So much had occurred in such a short time that, minds empty and jaws dropped, the crowd found themselves simply staring from afar, unable to take a step forward.

Eventually, someone broke the silence.

"Your Highness!"

A voice echoed in the distance, soon followed by flustered footsteps. A woman, looking to be in her fifties, almost tumbled down the spiralling stairs as she rapidly made her way towards him.

"Lady Saire."

"Call me Professor Harkness! You and your ungraceful mouth, my Serenity." The woman roared across the room, and a mage sitting by a cafe dropped his sandwich.

Plastering on his nobly smile, Dolan watched as the woman huffed and puffed, finally recovering enough to speak again. "What are you doing here? You should be approving documents in the royal palace! Or attending conferences. There are many, many cases waiting for you to look at."

"Please excuse her words. This is very normal between us." Dolan glimpsed at the dark-haired man behind him. "She was my professor back when I was in my studious days, so we have quite an amicable relationship, hence our manner of communication. Sorry if it scared you."

At his comment, Edris observed the stomping woman approaching them in the distance, then shifted his gaze back to the Crown Prince. He shrugged a smile.

"Not at all, Your Highness. What an enviable student-teacher relationship."

Even though his mighty database wasn't here to provide a biography of the woman, Edris was well aware of who she was:

Saire Harkness.

Descendent of the Harkness Family, the family of renowned mages only. She was one of the few, perhaps even the only known Harkness who's not living in recluse.

Living up to the family's reputation, she was one of the top archmages in the Zacriya Kingdom, no, perhaps in the entire world. Her dauntless personality aside, she was also said to be the Awakened closest to taming the Signa left behind by the kingdom's finder, Toren Zacriya.

Surprisingly enough, Edris knew this woman beyond recorded words as well. It was his first time meeting the archmage in person, but on technical terms, he would say that they were—to a degree—already acquainted.

After all, Ace had gobbled up one of their family's fabled notebooks just over a month ago.

"Who's these two?" Noticing his presence, the woman pushed past the Crown Prince and gazed toward Edris and Celio. With her index finger, she tipped up her monocle. "None of you are mages. You're not even supposed to be here."

Her blue eyes scrutinised the two, taking an extra second on the dark-haired man before darting back to the Crown Prince, who gave an innocent smile in return.

"My friends, Edris and Celio."

"Bringing uninvited people here just like this, I didn't know you were still so irresponsible."

"It's an urgent matter," Dolan said, looking towards Edris. "We need to go to the fourth floor. That's where all the witnesses of incidents are usually retained, right?"

"It is. But what business do you have with them?" Saire narrowed her eyes.

"It's Edris over here. He and his companion helped out significantly with the Slums incident a few days ago. He only woke up just now, and he's here to see his friend."

Edris, who had been listening in on their banter, blinked as he was cued. Now that he thought about it, to the Crown Prince's eyes, the relationship between him and Ace would be akin to friendship, seeing the deed they had achieved together.

"Yes. Yes, I am," he concurred.

"The Slums incident? I was just there, talking to the group in charge of the case." Saire scratched her head as her expression grew strange. She glanced at Edris. "The friend you're talking about. Surely you don't mean the handsome lad with white hair?"

Edris blinked again, twice, then gave a belated nod. He'd forgotten that Ace, once pink and fluffy, had regained his physical form.

"Hm… Are you sure he helped out?" the archmage mumbled. "The situation up there doesn't look like they're just collecting information."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"In any case, if you're looking for him, you should hurry." Saire jabbed a finger towards the staircase behind her, gaze upturning. "It looks like they want to open up the Dread Chamber."

"The Dread Chamber." Dolan's eyes widened. "An interrogation."

Saire shook her head. "Likely more."

"Ah, what are those people doing?" The Crown Prince sighed in annoyance, running a hand through his hair. "We should hurry before—"

As he spun towards Edris, Dolan's words halted in midair.

A strand of hair twirled around his finger in contemplation, the traveller simply stood there with a downcast gaze, without a tinge of urgency that one would have towards a friend who was in a predicament.

On the contrary, Dolan could have sworn that for a brief moment, a smile had flashed across his face.