The desert fell farther behind with every passing second, replaced by firmer ground and low vegetation.

  Pippin gradually slowed down, his wide wings cutting through the wind with more controlled beats as he followed behind Mark cautiously.

  Mark’s gaze was fixed on the horizon.

  The city was still far away, but now he could make out its shape.

  And it surprised him.

  Luminaris was not the cluster of tents and mud houses he had imagined for a desert city.

  In fact, it was massive.

  The city was protected by massive stone walls. Even from this distance, he could see watchtowers spaced at regular intervals along them. They were equipped with crystals that emitted bluish beams of light, sweeping across the dunes like lighthouses searching for something.

  At night, that light looked even more striking—and threatening.

  Even without knowing their purpose, Mark had no desire to be caught by them.

  “Sovereign…” Pippin murmured. “We’re entering the surveillance perimeter.”

  Mark gave a slight nod. “Return to your form.”

  “Yes, Sovereign.”

  Pippin’s body began to shrink midair, his wide wings retracting as bones compressed with a faint, organic sound. Within moments, the large monstrous bat transformed once again into the small top-hatted figure.

  Mark caught him with a steady hand before he could lose altitude. Without haste, he slightly opened his cloak and placed him inside. “Stay hidden so they don’t notice you.”

  Pippin nodded nervously as he settled within the cloak. Only his small head remained visible, eyes alert as they scanned the surroundings.

  The wind grew less aggressive as Mark slowed his flight, nearing the final dunes before the city’s outer zone.

  As they drew closer, Luminaris rose before them.

  It looked especially inviting in the middle of the dark desert, glowing like a lit lamp.

  The walls were taller than they had appeared from afar. A long line of guard posts reinforced the inner perimeter, preventing anyone from approaching unnoticed.

  At the gate, a large arch of dark metal marked the city’s entrance, where figures moved in and out without pause. Lines formed and broke apart at a steady rhythm as wagons and caravans attempted to enter after returning from somewhere.

  The city was bustling.

  Mark observed everything with an almost contemplative expression.

  For a moment, he was genuinely impressed by the sight.

  The organization.

  The structure.

  The life.

  He was about to enter a human city from the game Age of Blood for the first time, as if he were just another traveler.

  Then—

  “Sovereign, down!”

  Pippin’s cry was sharp.

  At that moment, mana projectiles glowing with a violent cyan-blue light tore through the darkness from the distant outpost towers.

  The spells struck his [Mana Barrier] in a series of sharp impacts, making his cloak flutter behind him.

  Not an inch.

  His body didn’t move so much as a strand of hair from the impact.

  “…?” Mark narrowed his eyes slightly.

  “They attack without even asking who it is?” A spark of irritation rose in his chest. Looking toward the distance, he noticed a group of mages in military robes at one of the outposts, moving with a discipline that reminded him of Earth’s armed forces.

  They were already preparing a second volley, their staffs glowing with condensed mana.

  Mark raised his right hand and pointed a finger toward the guard post.

  “Blood Bo—” he whispered slowly, but the words died on his lips halfway through.

  What was he about to do?

  If he finished the spell, Mark could obliterate the entire tower with a breath. A single [Blood Bolt] would have reduced those mages to pulp before their next spell could even reach him.

  Looking at the agitated guards below, Mark felt a chill run down his spine.

  He almost…

  Killing humans who were simply doing their jobs had never been part of his plans. His body had reacted to irritation, his mind failing to consider the consequences, responding first.

  He didn’t want to do that.

  Besides, the thought of the Holy Kingdom and the Army of Light flashed like a warning in his mind. If Mark retaliated, Vaelin would become an “evil monster” before even setting foot on civilized ground.

  “Pippin, let’s go!” Mark commanded, his voice firm.

  Before the mages could fire again, Mark activated one of his utility mana skills.

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  "[Perfect Unknowable]."

  This ability erased the user’s physical, auditory, and magical presence. It was undetectable by conventional sight or mana tracking. The only requirement was constant mana consumption, but that was not a problem for Mark.

  In the blink of an eye, he and Pippin simply ceased to exist to the eyes and senses of the mages below.

  The shots already in the air passed through the empty space where they had been a second earlier, vanishing into the darkness of the desert.

  Down below, the mages shouted confused orders, searching for signs of “teleportation” or “basic invisibility”, but found nothing but wind and desert ash.

  “Let’s go down,” Mark whispered, now invisible and hovering just a few meters above the ground. “They’re alert. From here on, we proceed on foot.”

  Pippin nodded.

  Still invisible, Mark continued toward the city gates, avoiding detection by other guard posts or the sweeping lights.

  The closer he got, the more the desert faded behind him, sand giving way to roads, lamp posts, and footprints marking local traffic.

  Mark approached close enough to observe the main gate, and his surprise only grew.

  ‘This…’

  The entrance was a sea of heads. Merchant caravans with wagons pulled by pack beasts resembling armored lizards formed long lines.

  Protecting these caravans, figures clad in leather and metal armor, carrying broadswords, bows, and axes, moved with confidence as they talked and laughed.

  From their attire, Mark assumed they were adventurers.

  The guards at the gates wore immaculate military uniforms identical to those at the outposts, a mix of metal plates and rune-reinforced fabric.

  Some held long spears, while others, positioned on elevated platforms, kept their staffs ready, eyes glowing with active mana for any sign of hostility.

  They were alert.

  The inspections were thorough; every merchant, every cargo, and every adventurer underwent strict screening before being granted entry.

  A realization clicked in Mark’s mind.

  He now understood the emptiness of the path he had taken.

  It wasn’t that the desert was uninhabited. It was that no one was foolish enough to venture outside the routes protected by Luminaris’ forces.

  The outpost Mark had encountered served as a beacon along a very specific route. Beyond that—where he had flown and eradicated the worm nest—was monster territory.

  Groups traveled in large numbers, protected by adventurers, because they knew that a lone encounter with a stronger monster meant the end of the journey.

  Luminaris was a fortress of civilization surrounded by a sea of predators.

  When they entered the secure perimeter, Mark deactivated [Perfect Unknowable], leaving behind the safety of invisibility to blend into the human flow converging at the city’s entrance.

  Luminaris seemed to maintain its own sovereignty, and the military discipline was evident.

  Mark observed the towers up close, feeling the vibration of defensive mana. He paused briefly, hesitating.

  His eyes scanned the horizon above the walls.

  Using [Perfect Unknowable], he could simply float over the guards’ heads, bypass the aerial defenses, and land in some dark alley of Luminaris without a single soul noticing his presence.

  However, he soon discarded the idea.

  It was more discreet—and ironically safer—to enter through the front gate like a mere traveler exhausted from the desert.

  Walking with Pippin hidden beneath his cloak, Mark blended deeper into the crowd.

  Some people cast curious glances at him, but their attention quickly shifted back to their own concerns.

  Everyone seemed worn out from caravan travel and eager to get inside.

  The entry process was organized, divided into sectors to prevent chaos in the sea of people. There were areas for large wagons and pack beasts, and iron-fenced corridors for pedestrians.

  Mark chose the shortest line, one that seemed intended for solo travelers and small groups, and took his place at the end, maintaining a neutral distance as his ears picked up the surrounding sounds.

  It was very noisy. His hearing was especially sensitive.

  Ahead of him stood a group of four adventurers who had clearly just returned from the desert.

  The group’s leader was a sturdy man wearing steel plate armor marked with deep scratches, as if struck by the claws of a large beast.

  He carried a round shield on his back adorned with the symbol of a stylized wolf, and a short sword at his waist.

  Beside him, a short-haired redheaded woman absentmindedly cleaned a dagger, wearing leather armor reinforced with metal studs that gleamed under the city’s mana lights.

  The other two were a young man with a long wooden bow and a hooded figure holding a birch staff topped with a bluish stone.

  “I told you, Kael.” The redheaded woman whispered, irritation in her voice. “That worm nest near the third marker wasn’t on the guild’s map. If it weren’t for the master’s barrier, we’d be digesting in one of their stomachs right now.”

  The sturdy leader, Kael, let out a heavy sigh as he adjusted his armor straps.

  “The map was outdated, Lyra. Ever since the mana flow in the dunes shifted last month, those nests have been popping up wherever they please. What matters is the sand essence shipment is safe. With what we’ll earn, we can cover the healing potions and still have enough left for a proper bath and an inn without fleas.”

  “I still can’t stop thinking about that light we saw in the sky an hour ago.” the archer suddenly said. “That crimson trail… I’ve never seen a signal spell that big.”

  The hooded figure—the group’s mage—slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t a signal.”

  “Then what was it?” Lyra asked, still focused on her dagger.

  “Maybe a monster?” Kael offered without conviction.

  “A monster?” the archer muttered, skeptical.

  “It could’ve been a mage. We’re talking about someone beyond Gold Rank. Maybe Platinum Rank, or one of those old Tower Masters who live in isolation.” The mage tightened his grip on the birch staff.

  The mention of a mage beyond Gold Rank sounded surreal for a place like this.

  “Platinum Rank?” Lyra let out a low whistle, finally sheathing her dagger. “What would someone of that caliber be doing in Luminaris? If an adventurer at that level showed up at the guild, the master would be opening the finest wine in storage. But we haven’t heard any rumors about high-level escorts coming in from the north.”

  “Maybe it’s not an adventurer.” Kael cut in, crossing his sturdy arms over his chest.

  “Could be an envoy from one of the neighboring kingdoms, or even a rogue. The world’s going crazy with that war in the east. Maybe someone strong decided the desert was a good place to hide.”

  The group fell silent for a moment, the mention of the “war in the east” casting a cloud of discomfort over them.

  Mark, just behind them, kept his expression neutral, though an internal smile nearly formed.

  ‘Crimson trail?’

  He had a faint suspicion they were talking about him.

  As if switching channels abruptly, the group’s heavy mood dissipated.

  The young archer patted Kael’s shoulder and shifted his tone to something more vibrant, almost childlike in its suddenness.

  “Anyway! Mage or not, what I want to know is whether the Barrel and Bung Tavern is still serving that rock boar stew.” He let out a nervous laugh to break the tension.

  “My stomach’s stuck to my spine, and I’d drink even the city moat water if it had a bit of hops in it.”

  The group continued chatting about potion prices, guild gossip, and how the desert heat was ruining their equipment’s durability. The conversation about the “mystery in the sky” was buried beneath everyday concerns.

  Mark kept listening, absorbing every detail.

  The Rank system, the existence of an adventurers’ guild, bits of gossip, even the names of local establishments—it was refreshing to hear.

  Although his arrival had been somewhat hostile, local relations seemed surprisingly mundane, welcoming, and vibrant underneath.

  The line moved forward a few more steps.

  Kael and his group reached the checkpoint. The official guard, a middle-aged man with deep eye bags, barely looked at them as he stamped their authorization scrolls.

  “Names and Rank,” the guard said curtly.

  “Kael, Lyra, Garret, and Voren. Iron Wolf Group, Silver Rank.” Kael replied proudly.

  The guard simply nodded and gestured for them to pass. “Move along. Keep your weapons sheathed inside the walls. Next!”

  Kael and his companions crossed through the gate, laughing at something Garret said about the stew.

  Mark stepped forward.

  It was his turn to enter the city.

  The guard wiped sweat from his forehead and fixed his eyes on Mark, pausing his pen over the wooden clipboard for a second.

  “Traveling alone?” The old guard asked again, his tone now less mechanical and more cautious. “Identification or entry fee. What’s your name, and what brings you to Luminaris?”

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