Herbert

Matthew stood quietly about half a step behind him, his posture as straight as a solitary pine among the rocks. His aura was calm and restrained, as if blending into the surrounding damp shadows.

He wore a set of dark, coarse clothes convenient for traversing the mountains and forests, with an unremarkable soft leather vest over them, its edges slightly worn. 【Dawn Sword】 hung at his waist. The scabbard was simple and unadorned, yet it faintly exuded a cold, sharp edge forged through a thousand trials, completely out of place in this primitive wilderness.

His gaze was calmly directed toward the deeper, denser parts of the forest ahead of the clearing. His eyes were focused, as if silently measuring the distance and assessing the unknowns and risks hidden behind that quiet green curtain.

The corner of his eye did not overlook the five people standing a few steps behind him.

He had noticed these people as soon as he arrived. They were all typical experienced adventurers, their weather-beaten faces carved with the deep and shallow marks of time. They were robust, and their movements carried the coordination and sense of power unique to systematically trained Class holders.

Matthew keenly perceived the faint flow of energy around them. Though not intense, it was steady and solid, clearly the fluctuations characteristic of Brass Rank Class holders.

Of course, it was difficult to judge a person's specific rank by their aura alone, but the Brass Rank badges worn on their chests were highly conspicuous.

They wore exquisite, sturdy leather armor or interlocking old chainmail. Their backpacks were bulging and practical, and they carried various weapons at their waists or on their backs—hunting bows with taut strings, battleaxes with cold blades, and steady broadswords.

Their trouser legs and heavy boots were stained with both fresh and dried mud, silently telling of the trek they had just completed.

Their eyes held a mixture of habitual vigilance, familiarity with the wilderness, and a focused silence as they awaited orders or discoveries. They were like five stone statues frozen in the shadows of the forest, with only their occasionally shifting eyes betraying their inner alertness and the power ready to erupt at any moment.

These people are probably the Class holders Sutton specially recruited, Matthew thought to himself.

As a wizard apprentice, exploring an unknown place—especially one that might involve ancient ruins or potential dangers—hiring local Class holders who were familiar with actual combat and could handle routine physical threats to serve as guards or vanguards was a highly reasonable arrangement.

Five Brass Ranks were already a force to be reckoned with in this territory, sufficient to handle most wild beasts, common traps, and even small-scale bandit groups.

However, he didn't know how much of a price Sutton had paid for this, or what kind of agreement they had reached.

In this temporarily formed team, everyone had their own purposes and price tags, and trust was often as thin as paper.

He silently reminded himself to keep observing. While he should leverage their strength, he must not place his trust in them completely.

Just as his thoughts were racing—

A powerful, condensed, and even slightly unmasked sharp Spirit swept across the entire clearing like an invisible wind.

When this Spirit swept past Matthew, it deliberately paused for a brief moment, as if a precise searchlight beam had "scanned" him from head to toe.

Its strength and quality were actually a level higher than Sutton's beside him. It wasn't an absolute crushing force in terms of total volume, but rather superior in the purity of its quality and the sharpness of its control.

Matthew's heart jolted. This unbuffered method of probing was almost a direct intimidation and declaration.

On the surface, he remained expressionless, but the Spirit within his body, which had just broken through to a Second-Grade Apprentice, instinctively contracted slightly, like a hedgehog raising its quills when threatened, before he forcibly suppressed it into a more restrained defensive posture.

From the corner of his eye, he keenly noticed that the expressions of the five adventurers turned slightly worse at this moment. Someone even unconsciously shrank their neck slightly—a physiological reaction to the stinging sensation caused by spiritual pressure on the unawakened.

This confirmed his judgment: the newcomer was not only strong, but also controlled his power with an almost arrogant casualness. It wasn't that he couldn't restrain it, but rather that he felt there was no need to waste effort on these "mortals."

Immediately after, the sound of horse hooves echoed from the forest.

Emerging from the trees was a man about thirty years old riding a crimson steed. He was tall and thin, wearing a well-tailored, high-quality grey wizard robe. The hem of the robe was embroidered with simple yet profound runes in silver thread, which shimmered slightly with his steps.

His face could be considered handsome, but a persistent sharpness was locked between his brows. His gaze swept over them like a blade, carrying unmasked scrutiny and a high-and-mighty indifference.

His pace was fast and his steps steady, and his entire being exuded a vigorous and resolute aura, as if he unwillingly wasted a single moment.

Matthew's gaze lingered on the tall, sturdy, and glossy-furred steed for a moment before calmly withdrawing it.

The other party was clearly doing very well in the mortal world; at least this mount was worth a fortune. However, considering his powerful Spirit that far exceeded Sutton's, this level of worldly wealth seemed only natural.

A thought couldn't help but flash through his mind: If I really make no progress on the path of a wizard in the future, returning to the mortal world to be a wealthy man with my current means doesn't seem unacceptable.

But as soon as this idea surfaced, he shook his head slightly to dispel it. With the incredible empowerment of his 【panel】, his chances were far greater than those of ordinary wizard apprentices, no matter how one looked at it. It was absolutely impossible for him to be inferior to anyone, nor would he ever be willing to be.

At this moment, Sutton proactively stepped forward to greet him. The usual sharp light in his single eye softened slightly, replaced by a polite and cautious smile. “Mr. Herbert, you've arrived.”

Hearing this, the man named Herbert finally showed a smile, one that carried a sense of natural ease. “Sutton, I'm not late, am I?”

“Just in time,” Sutton said in a very polite tone.

But Matthew, standing quietly to the side, couldn't help but grumble inwardly upon hearing this. The agreed-upon time was one o'clock, and now it was almost two o'clock...

At the same time, from Sutton's almost cautious attitude, he clearly felt that Sutton's strength was indeed slightly inferior to this Herbert's.

In the Kingdom of Cher, strength was everything. In the wizarding world, where hierarchy was strict and competition was likely even more brutal, this rule would only be enforced more harshly and nakedly, Matthew thought silently.

“I hope we won't make a trip in vain this time,” Herbert said with a smile, his tone carrying a routine expectation of the exploration's outcome.

Then, the two of them stood aside and chatted for a bit, talking about nothing more than what they had seen on their journeys and their preliminary observations of this location.

Whether it was Matthew or the five Brass Rank adventurers who knew the rules well, they all saw that this newcomer held an extraordinary status. No one showed any impatience or urged them, they simply waited quietly.

A moment later, Sutton shifted the topic, turning slightly to introduce Matthew.

“This is Matthew, from the Fire Vortex Tower.”

Then, he introduced to Matthew:

“Matthew, this is Mr. Herbert, a Third-Grade Apprentice, and one of the best among them.”

Matthew immediately took half a step forward and bowed respectfully in greeting, “Lord Herbert.”

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