The bustling central square was alive with activity.
As Sakeer walked down the crowded street, pedestrians instinctively stepped aside, their eyes fixed on the little Barghest trotting at his heels.
The inquiry from the middle-aged man at the Adventurer's Guild didn't concern Sakeer in the slightest.
From the moment he had sold the two bone chains, he had already expected someone to suspect he had ventured into the Great Forest of Tob.
However, no matter how much they speculated—
It was simply impossible for the Adventurer's Guild to believe that the turmoil in the Great Forest of Tob had been caused by a single person.
After all—
The disappearance of a massive number of monster corpses wasn't something that made sense to people of this world, who lacked the concept of spatial storage like an item box with large space.
Without any trace, there was no foundation for speculation to begin with.
"Vice President of the Magician' Guild… Belori Vanov Grigory Bertkin."
Sakeer sighed as he muttered the name to himself.
"Just from his name alone, I can tell he's not someone easy to approach."
He shook his head.
"I wonder if the Magician's Guild has any magical artifacts that can translate written text…"
By midday, Sakeer decided to stop at a lively tavern, ordering a simple meal.
At the same time, he planned to take advantage of the tavern's lively gossip, hoping to pick up on any recent news or rumors.
He had already noticed that the atmosphere in E-Rantel wasn't too different from a month ago—
But the subtle tension in the actions of the city guards suggested that something had definitely happened.
Whatever it was, it seemed to be deliberately concealed from the public.
If that were the case, then spending money on information at the Adventurer's Guild would be pointless.
Instead, it was better to rely on the whispers of the common folk.
However—
By the time he left the tavern, Sakeer had learned nothing useful.
The only thing he gained was a meal that finally wasn't the kind of plain food he had survived on in the forest.
Jingle!
As Sakeer approached, the dark brown doors of the Magician's Guild automatically creaked open.
Stepping inside, he was met with the same quiet atmosphere as before—
A stark contrast to the Adventurer's Guild.
Behind the counter, two guild staff members stood at their posts.
One was a young magician, the same one who had been there on Sakeer's last visit.
The other was different—a new face.
Instead of the middle-aged magician from before, this one was younger, clad in a light blue robe.
The moment Sakeer stepped in, a surprised voice filled the room.
"No wonder the monster detection artifact reacted! I thought it was malfunctioning."
The blue-robed magician leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the small Barghest.
"A Barghest… And it's a cub, no less?"
Hearing this, the black-robed magician, who had been watching silently, finally recognized Sakeer.
"Ah, it's you. The one who purchased magic scrolls a month ago."
After all, the only thing memorable about Sakeer was his pure black hair—and even that hadn't left much of an impression.
The black-robed magician spoke up.
"Are you looking to buy more magic scrolls?"
Sakeer shook his head.
"Not this time. I'm looking for magic items."
Both magicians exchanged a glance.
"Magic items?"
A flicker of surprise passed through their eyes.
While the Magician's Guild sold magic scrolls, most of them were support-based spells—
Something Sakeer had no use for at the moment.
His only real interest was in life magic that could raise its rank, but higher-tier life magic came with limitations.
Given his current situation, he had no intention of spending precious skill points on it just yet.
But magic items—
Those were far more expensive.
Judging from Sakeer's modest outfit, neither magician believed he could afford them.
"Is there a magic item that can translate written text?" Sakeer asked again.
"A translation item?"
The blue-robed magician snapped his head up, his voice rising with incredulity.
"Who would waste their time making such a useless magic item?!"
"Even if something is magical, that doesn't mean it can do everything!"
His reaction was so sudden and loud that the black-robed magician beside him quickly reached out, tugging discreetly at the hem of his robe.
Then, turning to Sakeer with an apologetic look, the black-robed magician offered an explanation.
"Sorry, but we don't have any magic items like the one you're looking for."
Sakeer cast a calm glance at the agitated blue-robed magician and simply nodded.
As expected.
He recalled that Sebas, the House Steward of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, possessed a glasses-shaped magic item capable of translating text.
It was likely a high-tier artifact.
Compared to that, the magic items crafted by humans in this world held little interest for him.
"That reminds me..."
Sakeer's tone shifted as if something had just occurred to him.
Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a piece of white paper—its surface faintly shimmering, exuding a delicate yet durable texture.
"Do you accept materials like this?" he asked, holding the paper up for them to see.
The rolled-up sheet emitted a soft glow, with pale-white magical energy faintly flickering across its surface.
Until now, one magician had been irritated, while the other had worn a practiced, professional smile—both carrying a hint of arrogance in their expressions.
But the moment their eyes fell upon the mysterious sheet of paper, everything changed.
Their attention snapped to it immediately.
"How many do you have?!"
"We'll take them all!"
The blue-robed magician suddenly leaned forward, his expression shifting from skepticism to excitement.
Without hesitation, he snatched the paper from Sakeer's hand, studying it intently as he spoke in a rush.
Sakeer's eyes flickered with curiosity.
"Huh?"
He hadn't expected such a strong reaction.
Based on the results of Item Identification, this paper—crafted using second-tier magic—was capable of preserving written text for centuries.
That was impressive, certainly—
But it shouldn't have been enough to make the blue-robed magician this excited.
"This is exactly what we need."
The blue-robed magician finally tore his gaze away from the paper and exchanged a glance with his companion.
He gave a firm nod and whispered something under his breath.
Meanwhile, the black-robed magician's expression was even more shocked.
"I remember… You're a Magic Caster of the Faith Department, right?" the black-robed magician asked, turning his gaze toward Sakeer.
"That's right."
The black-robed magician hesitated for a moment before speaking seriously.
"Who made this paper?"
"I ask because we urgently need more of it."
"If the creator is willing to supply us, we're prepared to purchase it at a rate of ten sheets per silver coin."
Sakeer did a quick mental calculation.
Using second-tier papermaking magic, he could produce 700 sheets at a time.
At this rate, just by spending a little mana, he could earn 70 silver coins per batch—the equivalent of 5 gold and 5 silver.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
If he dedicated a portion of his daily routine to making this paper, he could easily earn over 160 gold coins per month—
Financial freedom, just like that.
But instead of agreeing, Sakeer simply waved a hand dismissively.
"That won't be necessary. I made it myself."
Silence.
Both magicians froze.
The blue-robed magician, who had been intensely studying the paper, finally looked up, his expression unreadable.
Meanwhile, the black-robed magician, who had remained relatively composed until now, suddenly reacted sharply.
"Impossible!"
His voice rose in pitch, carrying an undeniable edge of disbelief.
"A month ago, you came here and bought a zero-tier 'Papermaking' scroll!"
"If you already knew how to make paper, why would you waste money on buying that scroll?!"
A visible shift took place in his demeanor.
The initial curiosity and surprise in his gaze had been replaced by something else—
A hint of hostility.
A barely concealed resentment, as though Sakeer's very existence was a challenge to something fundamental he believed in.
Sakeer cold gaze swept across the room.
A month spent slaughtering goblins and monsters in the jungle had left a lingering aura of death around him. His hair, uncombed for weeks, fell messily over his face, partially veiling his eyes—until now.
With a slight tilt of his head, his half-covered eyes gleamed through the strands, dark and emotionless.
"Is there a problem?"
His voice was calm, devoid of warmth, as he fixed his gaze on the black-robed magician.
"You… you…"
The black-robed magician visibly shuddered.
An inexplicable chill crept up his neck, sending a sharp shiver down his spine. Instinctively, he took a step back, his body reacting before his mind could process the danger.
Then—
His expression twisted, a mix of embarrassment and anger bubbling to the surface as he realized his own cowardice.
"Do you even know where you are?!" he snapped, voice strained with frustration.
"Enough!"
A stern voice cut through the tension.
The blue-robed magician, who had earlier been annoyed with Sakeer over the magic item request, now spoke with authority.
His gaze locked onto the black-robed magician, his tone serious.
"Albert, is what you said true?"
"What…?" Albert blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "True?"
His mind scrambled, not fully grasping the sudden shift in the conversation.
But the blue-robed magician had already turned away, as if he had heard all he needed to know.
"I see."
Then, looking at Sakeer, he spoke in a controlled yet urgent tone:
"Please wait here for a moment."
Without another word, he hurried toward the staircase, disappearing into the depths of the Magician's Guild.
Now, only two people remained in the dimly lit hall.
Albert. And Sakeer.
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable.
Albert's face had turned pale, his earlier bravado fading under the weight of uncertainty.
Avoiding Sakeer's gaze, he turned his head away, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Meanwhile, Sakeer's curiosity only deepened.
"So, this 'Papermaking'… has a hidden secret?"
But something about it wasn't adding up.
The wait wasn't long.
The measured sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase—two sets.
The blue-robed magician reappeared, now following cautiously behind an elderly man in a worn gray robe.
The old man's presence immediately shifted the atmosphere.
Up close, his gray robe looked patch-ridden and frayed, clearly not enchanted or imbued with magic. His hair, too, was ashen, his face etched with deep wrinkles, like the creases of an old manuscript.
His expression was rigid, his lips pressed into a severe line—a demeanor that suggested not only age and experience, but also a strict, no-nonsense personality.
Even without speaking, he exuded an air of someone who was difficult to approach—the kind of man who adhered strictly to rules and had no patience for nonsense.
"Teacher."
Albert's voice came out in a hurried, almost pleading tone as he rushed forward, eager to assist the elder.
But the old man brushed past him without a glance, shaking off the offered arm with effortless dismissal.
Despite his advanced age, his stride was firm and unwavering, his presence commanding the room without a single wasted movement.
His gaze lowered to the piece of glowing white paper resting on the counter—
Then slowly rose to meet Sakeer's.
His sharp eyes took in every detail, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Sakeer's black hair.
Then, in a cold, measured voice, he finally spoke:
"Are you from Slane Theocracy?"
(End of Chapter)