Soel City, a fortress town scarred like a rough wound along the kingdom’s eastern border.
The wind sliced through the narrow, winding streets like a blade.
Beneath the towering, weathered city walls, the Adventurers’ Guild building—a rugged stone structure—sat like a weary giant crouching in a corner.
The heavy oak doors groaned as they were pushed open and then shut.
Inside the guild hall, the clamor crashed like tangible waves against soot-stained walls and stout wooden beams.
Adventurers of all kinds crowded around greasy long wooden tables, loudly chatting, fiercely arguing, or silently polishing their weapons.
In a corner, a few drunken men jeered around a shabby harp player whose strings squeaked off-key, drowned out by the roaring voices.
Behind the front desk, the receptionist Catherine—or rather, the demon disguised under that human identity—restlessly tapped her fingertips against the scratch-covered wooden counter.
Her black hair flowed like a waterfall, with stray strands hanging beside a graceful yet cold neckline.
Her ice-blue eyes brimmed with undisguised boredom and a faint, barely perceptible disdain.
Today was another dull day.
These human adventurers—weak as insects at their worst, at best just brute thugs relying on raw strength—had suffered heavy losses thanks to her carefully orchestrated “accidental” missions.
Now, hardly anyone worth mentioning remained.
She was a demon spy infiltrating human territories to gather intelligence.
Under the guild’s guise, she also “assassinated” promising adventurers, crushing potential heroes in their cradles.
Word from the demon side said the great “King” already sat upon her throne.
Soon, the demon tower would shatter Maria’s Wall once more, then rose the fortresses of Rosay and Hina—three human strongholds built in the name of goddesses!
Humans… were becoming increasingly uninteresting.
She sneered silently to herself, her fingers gliding over a dusty, open task ledger.
One mission, carefully set by Catherine, caught her full attention.
It was a trap, perfectly arranged, yet still missing someone to lead it right into the humans’ hands.
Only when humans discovered the trap themselves would they leap in without hesitation!
Just as she schemed how to cast this bait, the guild’s heavy doors pushed open again.
This time, not only stale air and noise poured in, but a strange silence instantly settled over the entire hall.
Four figures stepped in, backlit by the sharp daylight at the entrance.
Unlike the generally rough, travel-worn, even sloppy look of those inside, these four were draped in finely crafted cloaks, their faces hidden behind butterfly-shaped masks of various styles and exotic materials.
Their movements carried an unspoken grace, and the faint aura of magic beneath their cloaks silently proclaimed their extraordinary nature.
All the noise was abruptly cut off, as if an invisible hand strangled it.
The drunken hiccups caught in throats, quarrels stopped mid-sentence, weapon polishing froze, even the out-of-tune harp in the corner fell silent.
Countless gazes—curious, probing, wary, even greedy—focused sharply on these four “masked maidens” who had so abruptly appeared.
Leading them was a tall, well-proportioned woman whose steps were as graceful as a cat’s.
Beneath her mask, strands of silver hair shimmered faintly in the dim light.
Her eyes, partially uncovered by the mask, glowed like molten gold, calm and distant as she scanned the hall with a detached scrutiny.
Behind her stood a slightly taller girl, her heterochromatic eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings—clearly a bodyguard figure.
A petite, delicate girl lowered her hood, revealing just a sliver of pale purple hair.
The crowd’s focused stares seemed to make her shy.
The last maiden gripped a holy staff taller than herself and looked somewhat nervous under the crowd’s attention.
The absolute silence lasted only a few fleeting seconds before a low, more raucous buzz of whispered talk replaced it.
“Where did they come from? A noble lady playing adventurer?”
“Oh, and with masks on… trying to be all mysterious!”
“Tch, just look at that fabric… must’ve cost a pretty penny.”
“The girl throwing punches—her eyes are different colors?”
Catherine’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, like a snake spotting fresh prey.
That boredom instantly shifted into a spark of interest.
This group… was intriguing.
She straightened from her lazy lean on the counter, a professional, slightly saccharine smile blooming on her face.
Her crisp voice pierced the low murmur: “To the stars and the abyss, welcome to the Adventurers’ Guild! How may I assist you esteemed ladies today? Are you here to take on quests, or perhaps something else?”
She deliberately emphasized the word “esteemed,” her gaze lingering appreciatively and inquisitively on the silver-haired woman.
Eileen stepped forward to the front desk.
Her voice came through the mask, metallic and frictional in texture, calm and steady: “Registering. A new adventurer team.”
This time, Eileen had left Clarette and Layla behind in the territory.
With the territory’s development just getting underway, the Marquis’s mother had sent reinforcements that surprised Eileen—none other than Mr. Wagner, the blacksmith from the royal capital’s smithy!
With his help, crafting mithril equipment would be even more reliable.
Before departing, Clarette and Layla had been reluctant to leave.
Eileen persuaded them firmly: “Clarette, you know the territory’s just starting out and needs capable administrators like you. While I’m away, I’m entrusting the territory to you—I believe in you!”
Only then did Clarette wipe her tears and wave goodbye.
She understood someone had to stay behind, as she had already taken on the administrative duties.
Layla and Ansel served as Clarette’s deputies—after all, Eileen worried Layla might not be able to keep order alone!
“Very well! May I have your team’s name?”
Catherine immediately flipped open the ledger, dipping her quill into ink.
Her voice pulled Eileen back from her thoughts.
Eileen paused briefly; golden eyes flickered behind the mask: “Call us AVE M… no, let’s go with ‘Masquerade.’”
“‘Masquerade’… a name full of charm.”
Catherine wrote smoothly, her smile unchanging.
“Now, please have your members provide basic information and demonstrate your… hmm, primary combat methods. We need a brief strength assessment to better assign quest ranks.”
Her gaze swept over the four, lingering especially on Eileen.
Because from Eileen, she sensed no hint of strength at all—she seemed like nothing more than an ordinary young lady!
Hiding her true power?
“Of course.”
Eileen nodded lightly.
As she spoke, almost unconsciously, she reached to adjust the sword sheath at her waist.
That subtle movement acted like a carefully designed trigger.
“Clang—”
A clear, resonant metallic chime rang out unexpectedly across the hall, overpowering all the noise!
The sword at Eileen’s side shimmered with a sudden cold, dazzling silver light as the mithril crest on the pommel and the runes etched on the guard flared magically in the dim light!
The glow was pure and sharp, exuding a soul-piercing magical affinity that instantly stung everyone’s eyes.
Immediately, as if triggered in a chain reaction—
The staff in Helga’s hand lit up with magical radiance.
A tough, pale yellow halo and a sharp silver edge appeared simultaneously, the heavy metal gleaming as if alive, announcing itself as a doubly enchanted staff!
Lillisa crossed her arms, her vambraces covered in dense, scale-like mithril plates silently sliding open to reveal wrist blades beneath, also glowing with double enchantments.
A light cyan aura swirled around them.
Rita exhaled and planted her holy staff into the ground with a heavy “clang,” signaling it too was crafted to the same high standard!
Four pieces of equipment—each blazing with at least two types of top-tier magical light!
That pure silver glow, the stable yet powerful magical pulses—
“Mithril… all of them?!”
A scruffy old mage in the corner jumped up in shock, dropping his inferior staff with a clatter.
“And all double-enchanted?! No way! What the hell is this?!”
A heavily armored warrior nearly popped his eyes out.
“My gods… that shine… that magical aura… absolutely top-grade! Worth a fortune, but nowhere to be found on the market!”
A corpulent man dressed as an equipment merchant trembled with excitement, his rolls of fat shaking.
The entire hall erupted into chaos!
What had been mere whispers transformed into incredulous shouts and greedy gasps.
Countless eyes burned hot as they locked onto those shining weapons, as if they wanted to devour them alive.
The air thickened with a scorching blend of shock, frenzied envy, and blatant desire.
Mithril!
And high-quality, doubly enchanted mithril gear at that!
This was like parading a mountain of gold in plain sight!
For the first time, the professional smile on Catherine’s face stiffened genuinely.
Beneath her ice-blue eyes, the demon’s cold logic overwhelmed her human guise, rapidly analyzing: top-tier mithril equipment… concentrated all on a nameless new team?
This was absolutely abnormal!
Whose private mercenaries were these?
Or some hidden faction’s puppets?
Could it be—?!
Her fingers twitched unconsciously, but the smile quickly returned, now tinged with exaggerated admiration:
“Truly… astonishing equipment! The depth of talent these ladies possess is unfathomable.
It seems the Soel City branch is about to welcome a powerful new force!”