Part II – The Eyes of Ashhaven The Hunter Exchange stood at the very heart of Ashhaven.
Unlike the Guild Headquarters, which represented power, or the Noble District, which represented wealth, the Hunter Exchange represented opportunity.
Every Hunter, regardless of rank or background, eventually passed through its enormous bronze gates.
Some arrived carrying nothing but dreams.
Others returned with fortunes earned through blood and steel.
Many…
Never returned at all.
Drake stood across the street, watching the constant flow of people entering and leaving the building.
Hunters dressed in polished armor laughed loudly as they compared the rewards from recent dungeon expeditions.
Merchants pushed carts overflowing with monster hides, enchanted herbs, and crystalline beast cores toward the appraisal halls.
Couriers rushed between departments carrying sealed documents stamped with Guild insignias.
The entire district moved with remarkable efficiency.
Money.
Power.
Information.
Everything eventually converged here.
Drake lowered his hood slightly.
He had visited this place before, but only as a laborer unloading supplies for merchants.
Never once had he crossed the entrance as someone carrying something valuable.
Today…
Everything was different.
His fingers instinctively tightened around the cloth pouch hidden beneath his jacket.
The Mana Crystal seemed heavier than before.
Not because of its weight.
Because of what it represented.
Hope.
Forty-eight hours.
That was all Luna had left.
Failure was no longer an option.
He took one slow breath before stepping forward.
The towering bronze doors slowly opened before him.
The Hunter Exchange welcomed another visitor.
— The interior was far larger than it appeared from outside.
Massive stone pillars stretched toward a ceiling nearly thirty meters high, each engraved with the insignias of famous Guilds that had helped build Ashhaven after the first Dungeon Bursts.
Mana-powered chandeliers floated silently overhead, bathing the enormous hall in warm golden light.
Dozens of appraisal counters lined both sides of the building.
Some specialized in monster materials.
Others evaluated enchanted weapons.
Several accepted ancient relics recovered from unexplored ruins.
Each counter displayed long queues stretching across the polished marble floor.
The Exchange was crowded.
Yet strangely organized.
Drake quietly observed everything.
Years of surviving poverty had taught him something valuable.
The loudest place often hid the most danger.
His eyes slowly moved from counter to counter.
Hunters argued over appraisal prices.
Merchants negotiated contracts.
Guild representatives quietly recruited promising young Awakeners.
No one paid attention to him.
Exactly as he wanted.
The relic finally spoke.
**Observation complete?** Drake answered silently.
“Almost.” “You said this crystal shouldn’t exist.” **Affirmative.** “If I show it to the wrong person…” The relic remained silent.
Drake understood the answer anyway.
Someone would eventually ask where he found it.
And that question alone could destroy everything.
— A directory stood near the center of the hall.
Dozens of appraisal offices were listed beneath different categories.
Most belonged directly to the Hunter Association.
Several independent specialists also maintained private offices inside the Exchange.
One name immediately caught Drake’s attention.
**Aldren Kael** **Master Independent Appraiser** **Fourth Floor** **Appointments Only** Beneath the name…
A single sentence.
*”Appraising History Through Mana.”* Drake frowned.
“Independent…” The relic answered.
**Probability of information leakage reduced.** He nodded slowly.
An independent appraiser answered to no Guild.
No Noble Family.
Perhaps…
That was his safest option.
— The fourth floor was noticeably quieter than the rest of the Exchange.
Luxurious carpets replaced polished stone.
The loud conversations from below disappeared entirely.
Only a handful of visitors occupied the corridor.
Each office belonged to someone considered an authority within their respective fields.
Rune specialists.
Artifact historians.
Alchemy consultants.
Finally…
Drake stopped before an old wooden door.
Unlike the extravagant entrances surrounding it, this office appeared surprisingly ordinary.
A brass plate simply read: **Aldren Kael** Nothing more.
No titles.
No awards.
No unnecessary decoration.
Drake raised his hand.
Knock.
Knock.
Silence.
Just as he considered leaving…
A calm elderly voice echoed from inside.
“The door is unlocked.” Drake slowly entered.
— The office resembled a library more than an appraisal room.
Books filled every wall from floor to ceiling.
Ancient scrolls rested inside carefully preserved glass cases.
Countless mana crystals illuminated the room with soft blue light.
Several strange artifacts occupied wooden shelves, each tagged with handwritten notes.
Near the large window sat an elderly man.
His silver hair reached his shoulders.
Round spectacles rested upon the bridge of his nose.
Despite his advanced age, his sharp emerald eyes remained surprisingly youthful.
He never looked up from the thick book resting in his lap.
“Leave the artifact on the table.” His voice was calm.
Measured.
As though he had already appraised a thousand treasures before breakfast.
Drake hesitated.
“I…” “I’d like to know its value.” The old man lazily adjusted his glasses.
“So would everyone.” Still…
He never looked up.
Drake slowly placed the wrapped crystal upon the wooden table.
The cloth barely touched the polished surface.
Something changed.
The old man’s page stopped turning.
Silence filled the office.
Very slowly…
Aldren Kael lifted his head.
His eyes settled upon the cloth bundle.
Not Drake.
The bundle.
He quietly removed his spectacles.
Then stood.
Each step toward the table was unhurried.
Almost casual.
Until…
He unwrapped the cloth.
Blue light flooded the room.
The old man’s pupils contracted.
For the first time in decades…
His hands trembled.
“No…” His whisper barely reached Drake’s ears.
“…Impossible.” He carefully lifted the crystal.
The room became completely silent.
Minutes passed.
Aldren slowly rotated the crystal beneath the sunlight pouring through the window.
His breathing became uneven.
He looked at one side.
Then another.
Again.
And again.
Finally…
The old man quietly sat back down.
His expression had completely changed.
Gone was the bored appraiser greeting another customer.
Now…
He looked like a scholar standing before the greatest discovery of his lifetime.
Drake frowned.
“…Is something wrong?” Aldren didn’t answer immediately.
Instead…
He reached toward a nearby drawer and removed an ancient bronze lens covered in mana inscriptions.
The moment the lens focused upon the crystal…
The old man’s hand shook so violently that the instrument slipped from his fingers.
It struck the wooden floor with a loud metallic clang.
Neither man moved.
Drake stared in confusion.
The appraiser stared at the crystal.
Finally…
Aldren whispered.
“…Mana crystals don’t grow like this.” Drake blinked.
“What?” The old man’s voice remained distant.
Almost as though speaking to himself.
“They fracture.” “They compress.” “They crystallize.” “But they do not…” His trembling fingers gently traced the smooth surface.
“…grow.” He slowly looked toward Drake.
For the first time…
Their eyes met.
The scholar’s calm demeanor had vanished completely.
“What…” His voice became unusually serious.
“…exactly did you bring me, young man?” The question hung heavily between them.
Drake remained silent.
Because he didn’t know the answer himself.
Far beneath the Hunter Exchange…
Inside the Intelligence Division’s restricted archive…
A dormant mana detection array suddenly awakened.
One crystal after another lit up.
An attendant looked down in confusion.
“…That’s strange.” Another official hurried over.
“What happened?” The attendant swallowed.
“The ancient signature…” “It’s appeared again.” Several floors above…
Aldren Kael still stared at the crystal in absolute disbelief.
Outside his office…
Unseen by either of them…
A pair of sharp eyes watched silently through the corridor window.
Then…
Their owner quietly walked away.