After changing into the simplest and cheapest clothes I could find in my luggage, I was ready.
…At least, I thought I was.
Apparently, our mission supervisor disagreed with me.
“Samael, didn’t I just ask you to change into something modest?”
I frowned at Selene.
Then I glanced down at myself.
I was wearing a sleeveless black vest and matching slacks. “Yes, you indeed asked me to do that. And so I changed! Now what’s wrong with me?!”
Selene facepalmed, gripped a few loose strands of her hair, and sighed loudly.
She looked like she was seconds away from banging her — or most probably, my — head against the nearest wall.
“Well, for starters, that outfit is not something a commoner would wear. Ever!”
“They wouldn’t?”
“No! Your whole attire is from a luxury sporting brand. Believe it or not, most commoners don’t have the money to splurge on brands — especially in a poor, war-torn region such as where you’re headed right now!”
My frown deepened into a scowl. “Oh, no. That’s really a problem. Any clothes would look branded on me, after all. I could wear rags and still pull it off.”
Selene ignored my remark with the practiced indifference of someone ignoring an annoying child.
“Besides,” she added, pointing to my right arm. “Your tattoo is showing. It completely defeats the purpose of being subtle and discreet. You can’t stay low and hidden with that.”
I gazed down at my forearm all of a sudden, as if only now remembering the tattoo was there.
More than half of my dominant arm was covered in an inky black tribal design. Actually, it was an intricate pattern creating a swirling mix of what looked like some sort of ancient runes from a dead language.
It was something I had gotten when I was in high school — or maybe it even was before that. I don’t know, I forgot.
It was stupid, anyway.
I didn’t choose that design for any deep reason. In fact, I didn’t even know what it meant. Or if it even meant anything at all.
I just thought getting a tattoo would make me look cool. Spoiler — it didn’t.
I was about to brush off her concern when I noticed the way Selene was staring at it. Her gaze had sharpened and her eyes were narrowed on my tattoo with an almost burning intensity.
“Uh, Instructor Valkryn?”
Her eyes snapped back to mine as soon as I called out her name, but something in her expression was still off.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, her tone low and hushed, as if she didn’t want anyone else to overhear.
The rest of my team was at the far end of the cabin, preparing to disembark as the jet began its descent.
I glanced past Selene’s shoulder at them for a moment before turning back to her.
“An ink parlor in Luxara,” I said. “Why?”
Selene didn’t hesitate to shoot another question almost immediately, as if she didn’t want to give me even a second to think of an excuse. “Is it a Warlock Mark?”
My scowl deepened further, if that was even possible. I stared at her, giving her a chance to make sense. But when she didn’t say anything else, I was forced to answer.
“I have no idea what that is. But no, I don’t think so?” I shrugged, genuinely confused at this point.
She studied me for several long, silent seconds. Her expression was a mask of deadly calm as she kept staring in my eyes to… to… I didn’t know.
I had no idea what she was trying to do at all.
Was she looking for signs I was lying?
A crack in my story?
But I wasn’t lying.
I didn’t even know what a Warlock Mark was.
Eventually, after a few more seconds, she seemed satisfied and gave me a curt nod. “Forget what I said. I must be mistaken. After all, as insufferable as you are, you’re still a child. It wouldn’t be possible.”
Huh?
What?
I stared at her, unsure how to respond to that.
“…Uh, thanks?”
“Go join your team,” she said, stepping aside. “And get a cloak or robe once you’re in the city. You’ll blend in better.”
“…Sure.”
I walked past her to join the rest of my Squad members, who were all in a deep conversation about a topic. I couldn’t have cared less about.
My thoughts were elsewhere.
What just happened?
What was that about?
Why was she so fixated on a stupid tattoo?
In the game, getting a reaction out of Selene Valkryn was as impossible as teaching a rock to speak. But here, she’d been visibly worked up.
She called it a Warlock Mark.
What did that mean?
I’d never heard that term in the game.
Whatever it was, it seemed important enough to draw Selene’s attention.
I made a mental note to research it in the Academy Archives as soon as we returned.
Selene Valkryn was going to be an enemy one day.
And since she was someone as strong — if not stronger — than my father, defeating her would be no easy task.
If something as simple as my tattoo could shake her, I needed to know why.
•••
The jet landed smoothly.
We exited the aircraft shortly after our mission supervisor delivered her parting words.
She wasn’t coming with us — doing so would defeat the purpose of sending us here in the first place.
Instead, she’d take the jet back to the Academy and remain on standby. If we succeeded or needed to retreat, we’d notify her, and she’d come for us.
I was a little sad to part with my luggage, especially after Juliana had been so kind as to help me pack and load it.
But it couldn’t be helped.
My clothes were deemed too luxurious, and the snacks I packed were deemed pointless. My Squad had practically forced me to leave everything behind.
Tsk.
Idiots. What would they know?
Once off the jet, we stepped onto the outskirts of Ishtara City, the capital of Kandara.
The stark contrast between a Conquered Territory outside the reach of the Monarchs and the pristine Safe-Zone we’d lived in all our lives was staggering.
I sensed the weight of the world shift as soon as I placed the foot on this land.
Here, the air was heavy — laden with the scent of dust and burning wood.
The sky above us, though clear, seemed dim.
It was as if the sun itself hesitated to shine too brightly on this wounded land.
The horizon was littered with skeletal trees, their gnarled branches stretching from the ground toward the heavens like bony fingers pleading for salvation.
Patches of greenery clung to life here and there, but even they were muted — their leaves a sickly, yellow-green color.
To the west stood a crumbling watchtower.
Its stone walls were cracked and scorched, leaning slightly, as though gravity itself had grown tired of holding it upright.
Beyond it loomed the faint silhouette of Ishtara City.
Even from here, I could tell the city was in dire condition.
The buildings weren’t polished structures but jagged, mismatched things made from salvaged metal and stone.
Some looked as though they were held together by sheer stubbornness.
Occasional plumes of smoke rose from factories recently built to boost the city’s economy. They seemed out of place amidst the decay.
The city was still some distance away, but the land around us already bore its scars.
The ground was uneven, cracked by the scorching heat of the sun.
Each step we took stirred small clouds of dust that hung lazily in the air before settling.
Not far off, I could see a group of children playing near the city’s entrance.
They ran and laughed like children of their ages do, and the sound of their laughter echoed against the backdrop of desolation.
That sound was out of place yet strangely comforting. It was a reminder that life could persist anywhere.
Behind us, the jet’s engines roared behind us, breaking my thoughts. I turned in time to see it lifting off and shrinking into the sky until it was gone.
I then turned to look at my teammates.
They were busy adjusting their clothes or scanning the surroundings. Their expressions were mostly unreadable but definitely tinged with unease.
I knew why.
I knew they could sense it, too.
Out here, away from the protective Spirit Force of the Monarchs that shield their respective Safe-Zones, the world felt raw.
Exposed.
There was something off about it.
It was like there was an instability in the air that I couldn’t quite put into words.
It felt as though the very veil of reality here was thinner.
The boundary between realms was fragile.
That sensation made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Fuu,” I exhaled sharply, breaking the stillness. “Well, this is cozy.”
“So cozy,” Alexia muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Stay sharp,” Michael, who was putting a knot on his bootlaces, said softly.
Once everyone was ready, we started walking toward the city entrance while discussing our strategy.
The plan was simple — begin with investigations in the outskirts, then move deeper into the city to find out what was happening.
If needed, we’d split tasks between us and follow whatever clues we may find.
We also had a formal meeting with the city’s Lord — a noble tasked with governing this region.
The Academy had already notified him of our arrival, so protocol demanded we greet him as soon as possible.
From there, we’d adapt as the mission unfolded.
Of course, I already knew where things would lead.
Because I would ensure they went exactly where I wanted them to go.
And with that, our mission in Ishtara began.
