One of the two handsome men, Lorne Duvall, broke into an even more dazzling smile after his companion, Lucien, had also greeted Ava.
He strode forward, his long legs closing the distance until he stopped precisely two meters away. Then, his gaze swiftly swept across their surroundings before he lowered his voice and spoke to Ava.
"Honorable Mage, your presence here at this exact moment suggests that you, too, have come for that matter. Since you have the confidence to come alone—"
Before he could finish, Kyle suddenly stepped forward, moving from behind Ava to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder.
"..."
Only then did Lorne take notice of the unremarkable-looking commoner. Seeing that Ava made no move to prevent this boy from standing beside her, Lorne arched a brow slightly, amused. He then smoothly corrected himself, "Since you have chosen to bring only a single attendant—oh, my apologies, a disciple—along, you must be quite confident in your abilities. Am I fortunate enough to learn what rank you hold?"
On the continent of Nolan, mages' ranks were distinguished by the colors of their robes. This system spared them from unnecessary trouble—commoners would steer clear upon spotting a mage, while even warriors, priests, and other professionals would tread carefully around high-ranking mages.
After all, mages were known for their pride and formidable power. Offending one could result in anything from severe injuries to death. Thus, it was common practice in Nolan to adjust one's attitude based on a mage's robe color. No mage would ever wear a robe beneath their station—this was not only a rule set by the two major mage associations but also an unspoken tradition among mages themselves.
However, there were special circumstances under which mages would don gray robes—such as when acting as mediators in conflicts between mages or when undertaking secret missions.
Clearly, the female mage before him belonged to the latter category.
Lorne might have the air of a carefree rogue, but in truth, he had already advanced to a senior swordsman last year. With extensive combat experience, he prided himself on his keen judgment—yet, standing before Ava, he found himself unable to gauge her strength at all.
The moment he saw her appear, before she had even lowered her hood, he had discreetly used an advanced magic detection stone.
The stone had remained utterly silent, not displaying even a single ripple.
And yet, he had seen Ava materialize out of thin air with his own eyes. That meant she was at least capable of using teleportation scrolls. But if that were the case, he should have detected the magic fluctuations—except he hadn't.
Which could only mean one thing: this mage had no intention of revealing her true identity and was wearing high-level anti-detection artifacts.
First, a lone woman wandering these parts was certainly not a mere academy apprentice—students from magic academies never traveled in groups smaller than ten.
Second, possessing such an expensive anti-detection item at such a young age indicated she came from a proper magical lineage rather than being a self-taught rogue mage.
It was well known that training a mage required an enormous amount of resources, so high-ranking mages were exceedingly selective about accepting disciples. But once they did, they were highly generous to their apprentices. Even a mage's disciple was typically well-off.
This meant that not only was her strength likely considerable, but her character was also at least somewhat reliable.
Rogue mages, on the other hand, had a nasty reputation for turning on their companions after a mission, slaughtering them to claim all the spoils.
Lorne was determined to recruit her into his mercenary group.
Yet, after all that, Ava simply stood there, her lips pressed together, saying nothing.
Another aloof mage. Lorne sighed inwardly but maintained his ever-charming smile. "To be frank, over the past three days, though our Lone Wolf Mercenary Corps has remained on the outskirts of the battle, we have a thorough grasp of the situation. Furthermore, we possess certain classified information unknown to anyone else. If you join us, we'll split the treasure with you—we take seventy percent, you take thirty..."
Ava listened blankly. She understood every individual word he said, yet somehow, when strung together, they made no sense at all.
Lucien, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed the flicker of confusion on her face. He extended a hand and lightly tapped Lorne's.
Lorne, who had been enthusiastically trying to recruit Ava, paused and turned to Lucien with a questioning glance.
"Figure out her strength and her purpose before anything else," Lucien murmured under his breath.
Lorne hesitated.
Was that really necessary?
A gray-robed mage appearing in the northern foothills of the Ironrock Mountains at this moment—what else could she be after if not the red dragon?
But Lucien was meticulous and never wrong.
Fine. Might as well ask.
"May I ask, Honorable Mage, what brings you here? Is there anything I—or rather, we—can do to assist you?"
Even after he posed the question, the beautiful female mage remained utterly silent, her gaze vacant as she stared straight ahead.
—
(Outside the Screen)
Ava, staring at the screen, realized there was a glaring flaw in the game's design: there was no pause button.
She had wanted to pause and look up a guide to check whether these two newly appeared characters were other players or NPCs. But to her surprise, there was neither a pause nor an exit option.
Frustrated, she clicked on "Help" and finally dug out a line of explanation: [This game is a single-player mode. All characters except Player Ava are NPCs.]
Ava let out a breath of relief, rubbing her eyes before once again silently praising the game developers. The NPCs were crafted with astonishing realism—even their micro-expressions were absurdly lifelike. Lorne's dazzling smile concealed shrewd calculation, while Lucien's silent gaze carried an unsettling sharpness.
If they were NPCs, then their invitation—"Join the Lone Wolf Mercenary Corp"—had to be a new quest, right?
She had heard before that in RPGs, reaching a new landmark often triggered fresh NPC interactions and new quests that players were required to accept.
Well, alright. Teaming up with such handsome NPCs didn't seem like a bad deal.
(Inside the Game)
"...Mage?" Lorne called out for the third time, his voice laced with curiosity. Damn it, was she meditating mid-conversation?
Fortunately, the light in Ava's eyes flickered back to life. She turned to Lorne and flashed him a polite, social smile. Without thinking, she extended her hand—
Lorne froze. What was this supposed to mean?
A hand-kissing gesture? No, it didn't seem quite right.
Wasn't this something only those idle noble ladies did? Since when had female mages picked up the habit?
Still, his noble upbringing kicked in instinctively. Taking her soft, fair hand in his own, he lowered his head and pressed a feather-light kiss upon it.
Ava stiffened as the golden-haired swordsman suddenly bowed down, his slightly warm, damp lips brushing against her skin.
Behind Lorne, Lucien's face darkened instantly.