The sun beat down and, around the rare wild boar’s corpse, the air snapped tight. Awkward, tense—like the moment before two people in a bar decide whether to throw the first punch.Derek’s eyes went cold. Murderous, really. The muscle at his jaw twitched; he planted his heavy feet and swaggered up to Kaelen as if he owned the place.If they wouldn’t hand it over, he’d take it. Plain and simple. That was Derek’s whole attitude right then.“Get lost!” Kaelen sneered, short and contemptuous.Then strength poured out of Kaelen’ hands. Derek didn’t just get pushed—he was shoved back, stumbling, and then slammed flat on the ground.Everyone froze. Derek—a nearly two-meter mountain of a man—went down like a bag of grain. And the guy who did it? Barely shoulder-high to him.Greg and the others, who’d been itching to jump in, cooled off in an instant. They’d known the world had changed—after the Demon God invasion, power wasn’t just muscle anymore; stat points mattered more—but still. Seeing a

Darkness hung low between heaven and earth. Thick clouds piled on top of each other, a suffocating blanket that pressed down hard.The sunlight barely fought its way through. It was dim, muted—gone was the usual brilliance of the day.Walking through Wild Boar Ridge, the sky threatened a storm. Black clouds pressed down like a heavy hand on the shoulders. Most people would have felt their spirits shrink under it. But not Theron.He moved with purpose. Eyes locked on his destination. A faint smile tugged at his lips.Anyone on the verge of claiming a purple chest—about to claim an epic, rare item—would have smiled like that. Even dreams couldn’t hold that kind of excitement.Ten years ago, when he was just a boy, Doya had crafted a piece of equipment specifically for him.Theron had been waiting for this moment for a long time.Doya himself wielded a purple weapon. And Theron wasn’t the only one envious—every professional in Faust would have killed for it.Epic equipment wasn’t somethi

“Alright.”Kaelen hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded, meeting Shia’s expectant gaze.The sudden invitation to join their team—and to take the captain’s seat—had honestly caught him off guard.It was true what they said: once a god-class profession appeared, it was unrivaled.Followers seemed to flock automatically. Maybe that sounded exaggerated, but it wasn’t far off.“So… which guild does our Hero Adventurer Team belong to?” Kaelen asked casually, the words slipping naturally.“The Warblade Guild,” Shia said, pride flickering in his tone. “Not just us Heroes—even Greg’s team you saw earlier belongs to Warblade.”Shia’s team wasn’t particularly strong or high-level, but being officially registered under the guild was something to be proud of.“Faust has two major guilds,” Shia added quickly, worried Kaelen might not know. “Twin Blades and Warblade. They stand equal in strength and influence.”Kaelen gave him a calm glance. He wasn’t familiar with all the guilds, but these two? He

“Playing dirty? You really think you can pull that kind of trick in front of me?” Kaelen’s eyes narrowed, the corners sharp with ice. “You must have a death wish.”Greg had some nerve. Using that pathetic little stunt right in front of him? The idiot clearly didn’t realize Kaelen had seen through moves like that ages ago.He didn’t say it out loud, though. Just walked quietly behind Shia and the others, heading toward the Warblade Guild headquarters. Every team had to report back in after a mission—that was the rule.Kaelen wasn’t an official member yet, but that was about to change. Today, he’d make it official.The guild had its rules, its restrictions. Sure. But it also offered protection and resources, the kind a lone adventurer couldn’t dream of. Back in Boar Ridge, Kaelen had already learned that if you wanted to survive in Faust, you needed a banner to stand under.When he and Theron went through their professional awakenings, all the cheers and attention had gone to Theron. Ha

Kaelen’s blunt challenge shut Greg and his crew up like someone had flipped a switch. The hall hummed with tension; you could feel the outline of what was coming into place.Then Kaelen spotted her, and the hardness in his face melted a degree.Aunt Amelia stood there with a man at her side.He’d sensed someone approaching but hadn’t quite placed them—until she appeared. The gawkers who’d crowded outside the Warblade Hall had been ushered away; the room was cleared of idle onlookers.“Aunt Amelia—what brings you here?” Kaelen asked.She didn’t give him a warm hello. Instead, she fixed him with that cool, practical look he knew and said, “Put the purple chest away. Standing on it like that is ridiculous.”He followed her eyes, took in the faces around him—most of all the greasy, greedy glint in the thirty‑something officer’s eyes—and closed the chest, tucking it back into his pack.Showing off a purple chest wasn’t something Kaelen feared. But those chests weren’t toys you could hide i