**“Lord Balaka?”**

Glia’s pleading voice sought the necromancer who had manifested within her. There was no response. Glia sensed that her link to Balaka had been utterly severed.

The once-departed soul had now returned to the afterlife, leaving behind the mortal realm and relinquishing every effort to return. It was a risky decision, likely a permanent one.

**“Why?”**

The thought of a single, forbidden word surfaced in Glia’s mind.

Escape.

At that moment, Glia’s body crumbled powerlessly. Salana approached and struck the back of her neck, swiftly ending the necromancer’s manifestation.

---

Salana was left in a daze, unsure of what had just transpired. Meltas, too, blinked repeatedly, struggling to process it.

**“Salana, if I may.”**

The only one who maintained his composure was Risir. Approaching Salana, he placed a hand on the scarred area of her skin.

**“Ah…”**

Unconsciously, Salana placed her hand over Risir’s. It felt indescribable—a cleansing sensation, as though years of grime were washing away. Risir removed his hand, and Salana quickly pulled out a mirror to examine herself.

Her skin had healed, restored to its natural tone. Though faint scars and marks remained, they were minor and could easily be remedied.

Risir watched her admiration in the mirror with a contented smile. This encounter had gone beyond his expectations.

**‘It’s clear: with the status of a mere illegitimate child, nothing comes easily.’**

This experience had solidified his realization. Even though he’d been invited for his skills, his status had caused him to be disregarded. If not for Salana’s full support as a high-ranking adventurer, he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything here.

**‘What if I hadn’t been born an illegitimate child, but a noble instead?’**

The thought required no deep reflection. Had he been of noble blood, everything would have resolved swiftly; Salana would have revered him, Meltas would have deferred, and Glia would have trembled in his presence.

Risir reached a conclusion.

**‘Perhaps it's time I aim to rise in status.’**

He’d thought that by distancing himself from his illegitimacy, he could escape the chains of low status, but it was quite the opposite. Now, there was an additional requirement for the life he envisioned: money—and status.

His interactions with Salana had been an invaluable step toward this goal. With her influence, securing a foundation in Bondales for future advancement would become much easier.

While Risir gathered his thoughts, Salana, having organized her own, broke the silence.

**“Risir, allow me to formally introduce myself. I am the Master of the Black Hand, the Black Serpent. Perhaps ‘Master of the Assassin Guild’ might ring more true to you.”**

**“What?”**

Risir was stunned. He’d expected some grand introduction as a high-ranking adventurer, maybe even a tour of Bondales. But an assassin guild master?

**‘Technically, she’s far above a high-ranking adventurer… but still…’**

Risir’s eyes shook. Amused by his reaction, Salana let out her hearty, signature laugh.

**“I owe you a great debt, Risir. I thought hard about how to repay it, and this is what I came up with.”**

With a flourish, Salana handed him a parchment.

**“If there’s ever someone you wish dead, write their name here. I’ll fulfill your wish, even if it means breaking guild protocol.”**

**“What…?”**

Risir was dumbfounded.

**‘Is this some kind of… death note?’**

This was certainly not the reward he had envisioned. Though, on reflection, it was a far more extraordinary gift than mere high-ranking adventurer connections…

Seeing his bewildered expression, Salana pressed the parchment into his hands.

Tuck it away. Keep it safe.

Risir recoiled slightly at Salana’s casual gesture, treating the sinister item like a trivial keepsake.

At that moment, Meltas spoke up from behind.

**“Is it right for a master to be so… worldly?”**

He seemed more taken aback by this than by the sight of a necromancer manifesting.

Assassins were generally regarded as secluded individuals who committed killings for a solemn, internal cause, isolating themselves rigorously from outside interference. In reality, they lived almost like monks, contrary to their fearsome reputation.

Yet here was Salana, openly distributing a death warrant, even holding herself out as a high-ranking adventurer.

**“Devotion to one’s beliefs is noble,”** Salana replied with a nod, her face set in a smug expression, as if saying, *I’m not noble, so I’ll do as I please.*

To Meltas, this made Salana every bit the fearsome assassin legend painted her to be.

**“Meltas, just to check—do you intend to mention anything about today’s events to anyone?”**

Salana asked this in her usual carefree tone, but her gaze—cold and unyielding, absorbing all light—chilled Meltas to the bone. She was a formidable presence, powerful enough that even Meltas, a 6th-level mage and elite of the Keig Magic Tower, could not dare challenge her.

**“It seems… my memory is fading with age. I can’t quite recall why I came here at all.”**

**“Oh, no need to self-criticize so harshly. You’re not old enough to die just yet.”**

**“Yes… memory must be failing me.”**

Salana slung Glia’s limp form over her shoulder, then approached Risir and gave him a friendly pat on the face.

**“Did you know? Thanks to you, I’ve lost my excuse to roam freely outside.”**

**“Ah… have I done something unnecessary?”**

**“Ha, don’t worry. Honestly, I was growing weary of it. But—”**

She brushed a hand against Risir’s face.

**“Your skin… it’s flawless.”**

**“Is that so?”**

**“Yes. Makes me want to trade for mine if I could.”**

**“That’s… unnerving, considering you just revealed yourself as an assassin.”**

**“What did you think assassins are like?”**

Salana lifted Risir’s hand and guided it to the scarred cheek on her right side.

**“One last thing. Could you… do that again?”**

She likely didn’t mean to use his Normalization Power, so Risir gently rubbed her cheek.

Salana closed her eyes, savoring the sensation.

**“Mmm~ This feeling. I could get addicted… Should I just keep it?”**

**“My… hand?”**

**“What do you think I am, really?”**

Salana enjoyed Risir’s touch for quite some time. Watching her respond to his touch, Risir found himself briefly likening her to a large, affectionate dog.

**“Alright, that’s enough. Risir, let’s meet again someday.”**

With that, Salana left without a backward glance. Risir, still in a daze, pulled out the parchment she’d given him.

**“Remember, use that with the utmost caution,”** Meltas warned, his expression wary.

**“Of course.”**

**“Ahem. Now, shall we head off?”**

Meltas fiddled with his long braided beard as he spoke.

**“We?”**

**“Unless you have other plans?”**

Risir recalled his schedule prior to meeting Salana. He’d planned to visit the adventurer guild after a meal with Pean, both of them in search of work.

Clearing his throat, Meltas continued before Risir could respond.

**“To be frank, Risir, you’ve piqued my interest.”**

Risir instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, eyeing Meltas warily.

Meltas met his gaze with a solemn look.

Relaxing, Risir nodded and answered calmly.

**“What business could you have with a mere bastard like me, Sir Meltas?”**

**“Indeed, you’re likely still holding a grudge over my initial treatment of you. But listen: this could benefit you. What are your thoughts on the Keig Magic Tower?”**

The Keig Magic Tower—also known as the Gray Tower—was one of the most liberated and renowned institutions in Bondales.

**“I’d like to recommend you as an apprentice there. Make no mistake, Risir, this is an unmatched opportunity.”**

Meltas was correct, and it startled Risir.

**“But I have no family name or formal schooling to speak of.”**

Few places were as strict as the magic towers regarding status and origin. The very reason Meltas had initially reacted so harshly to him was his disdain for Risir’s illegitimate status.

**“Affiliation with a family or school is not a prerequisite for admission. A minimum requirement is simply reaching the 3rd level, which you’ve managed.”**

**“But as I understand, the towers are hardly kind to the ordinary.”**

**“Indeed. Reaching the 3rd level at your age is nothing exceptional. And the towers are no place for the ordinary. Yet, I’m set on recommending you. Do you know why?”**

**“Is it… because of the Normalization Power?”**

**“Exactly! Thankfully, you understand its uniqueness.”**

Mention of the Normalization Power brought a glint of excitement to Meltas’s eyes.

**“A power capable of erasing any kind of taint! I, Meltas Dradnoff

, have never encountered such an ability in all my years of studying magic!”**

Meltas’s trembling hand pointed at Risir.

**“You have an obligation to fully develop this extraordinary gift! You know what I mean, as one who walks the path of magic!”**

**“Forgive me if this sounds ill-timed, but… magic is just a means of livelihood to me.”**

**“What?!”**

The outburst left Meltas frozen in shock.

It took him quite some time to process.

**“How could such a gift fall into the hands of someone like… you?”**

Even Meltas’s braided beard seemed to quiver.

**“Do you think I could adapt to life in the tower?”**

**“Well… perhaps just a visit, to see if it suits you. No need to rush.”**

Risir agreed; establishing a connection with the tower could certainly prove advantageous.

---

**“Oh, before we head there, there’s somewhere I need to stop first. I have something to retrieve. Would that be alright?”**

**“Of course.”**

The two left the study and made their way toward the center of the magical district.

**“Here we are.”**

After a short walk, they arrived at their destination: a magic shop called *Blue Trace*.

**“Meltas?”**

As they entered, a woman recognized Meltas.

**‘Oh…’**

Risir was impressed. She wore a wide-brimmed conical hat and a lavish robe—she embodied the image of a mage perfectly. Unusually, her robe had a deep neckline, boldly showing off her ample chest.

**‘She must be exceptionally proud of her mage’s status.’**

As Risir marveled silently, the woman scrutinized him.

**“How rare to see you with a fledgling in tow. Are you finally taking on an apprentice?”**

**“That’s none of your concern, Marina.”**

**“I see. Judging by your reaction, he’s not an apprentice. Someone his age, just reaching the 4th level, wouldn’t be worth your time anyway.”**

**“Enough nonsense—wait, what?”**

Meltas’s disinterest turned to shock as he looked at Risir.

**“Oh.”**

A beat later, Risir realized the change within himself and sought to reassure Meltas.

**“No need to worry. This happens on occasion.”**

Though he’d left the study at the 3rd level, he had unknowingly ascended to the 4th level.