Rules

As Herbert finished speaking, his gaze shifted to Matthew, his scrutinizing eyes lingering on him a fraction of a second longer than they had on the empty air.

He did not respond with the same politeness he had shown to Sutton, only giving a barely perceptible nod—

The movement was so slight it seemed like nothing more than an involuntary twitch of his neck. It could hardly be called polite, let alone respectful; it was more like an extremely grudging acknowledgment of a peer.

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. It was barely a smile, resembling more of a shallow groove wind-carved into the surface of a rock—brief, cold, yet clearly conveying a sense of drawing a boundary.

“Fire Vortex Tower?”

Herbert’s voice was not loud, carrying a customary flat tone that sounded as if he were looking down from on high.

“Meeting an apprentice from the Tower here is to be expected.”

With those words, he did not spare Matthew another glance, as if that brief comment was already a grand favor.

As for the five Brass Rank adventurers standing quietly like background props a few paces away, his gaze had not lingered on them for even a fraction of a second since his arrival, let alone engaged them in conversation. It was a complete disregard, akin to ignoring pebbles by the roadside.

Seeing this, Sutton's shoulders moved imperceptibly beneath his grey robe, and he cast a glance toward Matthew. There was no comfort in his eyes, only a calm reminder, as if to say: Look, this is the norm. Don't let it get to you.

Matthew met Sutton's gaze with a calm expression and gave a barely noticeable nod to show he understood.

No resentment or embarrassment from being slighted showed on his face. His dark eyes remained as tranquil as a deep pool, though in their depths, an extremely cold, faint glint of sharp light flashed and vanished, like an undercurrent quietly flowing beneath a layer of ice.

There was no anger in his heart. Instead, a nearly crystalline clarity arose within him. Herbert's attitude was like a mirror wiped clean of fog, clearly reflecting the strict and harsh boundaries of rank along this path.

“Since everyone is here, let's set out,” Sutton raised his voice to announce, his words ringing out clearly across the quiet forest clearing, like a stone cast into stagnant water, shattering the invisible tension.

The group moved upon hearing the command, quickly and orderly forming their designated exploration formation.

Sutton and Herbert naturally walked side by side at the very front of the group. Their steps were steady, and the hems of their wide robes brushed past the decaying leaves and twigs on the ground without making much sound.

They were both the core and the decision-makers of this operation, and they needed to rely on their far superior Spirit to constantly sense the most hidden energy fluctuations and potential threats ahead.

As they walked, they conversed in low voices. Their words were interspersed with obscure terminology and place names, their syllables short and precise, as if they were performing some invisible runic deduction.

Herbert's speech was generally fast, carrying unquestionable decisiveness, while Sutton responded more cautiously, often pausing slightly at critical points to add details or suggest alternative possibilities. The faint light gleaming in his single eye never strayed from the deep shadows of the forest ahead.

Matthew's position was intentionally arranged not far behind the two, about three to five paces away.

This position was quite subtle. It kept him at the edge of the core circle, allowing him to faintly catch the scattered words drifting on the wind from ahead—especially since Sutton would occasionally summarize certain pieces of information in a more direct manner on purpose. Though Sutton's voice was soft, it was clear enough for Matthew to hear.

Yet, he was not too close, avoiding any action that might be seen as overstepping.

More importantly, this position allowed him to keep an eye on both the front and the rear at the same time, like a pivot set within a chain. He could receive the commands and flow of information from the front, while also observing the silent companions behind him out of the corner of his eye.

He walked with even steps and steady breathing, but his Spirit spread out quietly like an invisible, dense web with himself as the center, not letting any minute energy ripple or unusual sound slip by.

The five Brass Rank adventurers were spread across the middle, rear, and flanks of the column. They were highly experienced and formed a rigorous security formation on their own without needing detailed instructions.

Two warriors carrying heavy shields and sharp, short weapons flanked them on the left and right like mobile ramparts, their vigilant eyes scanning the brush on the sides and the tangled branches overhead.

An archer positioned near the center-rear of the column kept his posture slightly lowered, his eyes cutting through every inch of the surrounding space like a hawk. An arrow was loosely nocked on the string, which was taut like a lute string about to hum.

The other two positioned themselves in the front and rear. The former focused on the path behind Matthew and any faint sounds of being followed, while the latter maintained a tacit angle with the archer to cover any blind spots, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist.

They were as silent as rocks, their steps as light as night-prowling cats, minimizing the sound of their movement to the utmost. All communication was done through simple hand gestures and eye contact, like a group of well-trained shadows acting solely on instinct.

Walking under the dappled shadows of the trees, Matthew quietly pondered the cold, hard message conveyed by Herbert's attitude.

It was as if Herbert's gaze and attention naturally possessed an invisible filter, completely shutting out those who had not awakened their Spirit.

All conversations—whether discussing paths and traps with Sutton, or the brief, almost charitable comment he had just made about Matthew—were strictly limited to the circle of "wizards" or "apprentices."

This subtle yet unmistakable discrimination became even more pronounced in the brief exchanges that followed. When Herbert spoke with Sutton, he naturally used words like "we," "this exploration," and "that barrier." The semantic scope of these terms vaguely included Matthew, as if assuming he was a marked, albeit still marginal, member of this core circle of "explorers" defined by the threshold of Spirit.

But when it came to executing specific scouting or guard duties, Herbert's target was always "them."

To those adventurers, his orders were direct, concise, and unquestionable, leaving no room for explanation or negotiation—just like a master commanding silent servants, cold and efficient.

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