In her relief, Pixel’s paw accidentally nudged the glass bottle she was hiding behind.
Clatter…
smash!
The bottle rolled right off the shelf and shattered into a million pieces on the stone floor.
Instantly, Kaelen, Lisa, Karen, and Flair whipped their heads around, shooting a freezing, icy-cold, synchronized look of pure death straight at the feline.
“NOT AGAIN!” they all screamed in perfect unison.
From a dimly lit corner of the guild hall, an adventurer sitting at a table groaned loudly, slamming his tankard down.
“C’mon!
That bottle contained my healing potions!”
A female adventurer sitting across from him crossed her arms, glaring toward the front desk.
“This is the second time that furball has broken something today!”
“That potion cost me a fortune!” the first guy snapped, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Whose cat is this?
They’re gonna have to compensate me!”
Hearing the mounting outrage, Kaelen immediately grabbed the edges of his cloak and pulled his hood low over his face, looking straight down.
He began to casually whistle an aimless tune, entirely pretending to read the mission paperwork Lisa had put on Flair’s desk as if he were just an innocent bystander who had never seen a cat in his entire life.
Flair turned her eyes away from the broken glass and fixed them on the whistling boy, her tone entirely serious this time.
“Well…
you’re probably gonna have to pay for that, you know.”
Kaelen froze, his whistling cutting off abruptly.
Without lifting his hood, he muttered a tense, strained question.
“How much?”
“It costs about a month’s pay of an E ranked adventurer ,” Flair replied flatly.
The words felt like a literal iron nail being driven straight through Kaelen’s heart.
His brain automatically calculated the devastating logistical deficit of giving up a full month’s hard-earned income just to compensate for a liquid spill, and his face paled into a ghost-white complexion beneath his hood.
Pixel jumped back, her fur standing completely on end in pure terror as she realized she was once again the target of the guild’s collective wrath.
But seeing the cat’s genuine, wide-eyed fright and Kaelen’s instant, secondary soul-crushing despair, the entire group burst out into a massive, roaring fit of laughter.
The angry adventurers in the corner started snickering, and Lisa and Karen practically doubled over.
Flair wiped a fresh tear from her eye, waving a hand lightheartedly.
“Gotcha again!
It’s fine, it’s fine!” She chuckled, gesturing toward the mess.
“This one is on the house.
The guild will pay for it since it was actually our responsibility to take those supplies up to the vault earlier, but we delayed.
Consider your debt canceled, Mr.
Kaelen!”
Before the shattered glass could even settle, Flair cupped a hand around her mouth and hollered over the counter toward the dimly lit corner, her voice booming across the lobby.
“Don’t worry, Rody!
We’ll pay for that one, okay?”
From across the room, Rody raised his tankard in a brief, accepting gesture and hollered back, “Alright Flair, got ya!”
Flair turned back to Lisa, her smile widening as she leaned her elbows onto the polished wooden counter.
“That is one seriously interesting party you’ve assembled here, Lisa.”
“Well, we’re not officially a party yet,” Lisa noted, scratching her cheek with a slight, self-deprecating chuckle.
She glanced back at Kaelen, who was still adjusting his hood and trying to regain his shattered dignity, and then at Karen, who was looking around the grand hall with wide, starry eyes.
“Oh, really?
What are you guys waiting for?” Flair asked, tilting her head curiously as she began stacking the rattled paperwork back into a neat pile.
“Most rookies spend weeks hesitating in the taverns before they even stand in the registration line.”
“We just met recently,” Lisa explained, her tone shifting into a more focused, professional register as she leveled her posture.
“But we’re here to do it all in a single go—introductions, administrative syncing, and official registration.
Efficiency is the priority today.
Anyway…
where is the Guild Master?
I was hoping to have her sign off on our initial deployment clearance.”
Flair’s expression turned slightly disappointed, her playful demeanor completely evaporating into a heavy, bureaucratic sigh.
She slumped back into her high-backed chair, waving a hand toward the locked, ornate double doors that led to the upper level.
“Unfortunately, she’s not here today,” Flair said, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at the upper management protocols.
“She’s off attending a mandatory regional Guild Masters’ summit over at the Capitol.
You know how it is—endless political lecturing, budget auditing, and high-status power plays that could have easily been handled by a carrier pigeon.
She won’t be back until the end of the week.”
“Oh,” Lisa murmured.
Lisa held her chin between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes narrowing as she fell into a deep, calculating silence.
This sounds incredibly fishy…
she thought to herself, her inner analytical clock ticking through the logistical timelines.
Given her high-tier traversal speed, traveling back here from the Capitol would only take her an hour or so.
If she left last Sunday, she absolutely should have been back at her desk by yesterday.
A full week’s delay doesn’t add up administratively…
A sudden realization struck Lisa, and she had to suppress a sharp twitch in her jaw.
Which means this must only mean one thing…
She’s gone dungeon hunting again.
She’s actively using a corporate summit as a smoke screen to slack off her paperwork and chase high-level boss drops.
I know it for a certainty.
That woman never changes.
“So, what brings you in today then, Lisa?” Flair asked, pulling out a heavy, leather-bound guild ledger and flipping through the crisp pages until she found a clean slate.
“I have a formal field report to hand over regarding my previous mission,” Lisa said, sliding a thick stack of finalized paperwork across the polished wood.
Her hand remained on the documents for a beat, anchoring them with professional authority.
“And, I came to officially register my gang into our guild roster.”
Flair’s eyes brightened instantly, a bright spark of genuine excitement completely wiping away the lingering bureaucratic boredom.
“Oh my, really?
That’s awesome!
You finally found yourself a team of people you trust…
That’s really amazing, Lisa.
Lora will be thrilled to know you finally found a party where you belong!”
She reached beneath the counter and brought out two crisp, official registration forms, the premium parchment crinkling as she laid them out on the desk side-by-side.
As Kaelen and Karen picked up the specialized ink pens, Flair leaned forward, her elbows on the counter and a mischievous glint returning to her eyes.
She began firing off standard induction questions, completely transforming what should have been a mundane, dry administrative process into a rapid-fire routine of sudden flares of performative anger, sharp wit, and playful teasing.
As she guided them through the session, Flair made it her absolute personal mission to get entirely on Kaelen’s nerves, relentlessly poking at his stoic demeanor.
Just as Kaelen was meticulously filling out his background parameters with cold, calculating focus.
Flair suddenly slammed her hands on the desk right next to him with a loud, theatrical gasp.
Startled, Kaelen’s hand jerked violently across the parchment, his ink pen tracking a jagged line straight into the wrong box—checking off the “Female” gender option instead of “Male.”
Flair took one look at the ruined document and completely burst into a fresh fit of loud, hysterical laughter, pointing a finger at the paper.
Kaelen’s face flushed with pure irritation as he sat completely rigid, his eyes narrowing into slits that practically shot daggers and swords straight through the receptionist’s forehead.
Amused by his homicidal glare, Flair casually took her official stamp, crossed out the mistake, and marked the correct gender box for him.
Kaelen watched her every movement with a dark, brooding expression that clearly screamed if it were legally permitted by the guild’s code of conduct, he would have gladly slapped Flair right across her smirking face.
Flair continued guiding them , or perhaps the right word is ‘Tormenting ‘
“Full name and origin!
And don’t lie, the ink knows if you’re wanted in the neighboring kingdoms,” she barked with a sudden, deadpan sternness that made Karen’s hand shake mid-stroke, before bursting into a giggle.
“Relax, sweetie, I’m just checking your spelling.”
She kept the depth of the conversation incredibly lively, auditing their responses in real-time as they logged their names, origins, and baseline background parameters.
Every time Kaelen tried to answer with cold, clinical precision, Flair would find a loop to twist, teasing him about his newfound “cat-inflicted debt liability,” while encouraging Karen’s bright-eyed enthusiasm.
The paperwork became less of a legal chore and more of an initiation ritual, officially binding the rookie squad to the guild’s permanent ledger under the watchful, highly entertaining eye of its sharpest receptionist.
Once the forms were filled, Flair tapped the papers neatly together on the wooden desktop, a satisfying snap echoing through the immediate space.
“Alright, everything looks good.
Follow me!”
She spun on her heel, her guild-issue cloak swishing gracefully behind her as she led the squad out of the bustling main lobby.
They ascended a grand stone staircase, the heavy thuds of their boots echoing off polished obsidian walls before arriving at a quiet, high-ceilinged chamber on the upper level.
The air here felt noticeably denser, humming with a faint, static charge of raw magical energy.
Sitting prominently atop a beautifully carved stone pillar right in the center of the room was a large, flawless magic globe, its translucent gray surface swirling internally with light, cloudy mists.
“This is the mana verification terminal,” Flair explained, stepping up to the pillar and gesturing toward the smooth orb with a theatrical flourish of her hand.
“The magic globe measures exactly how much mana an individual possesses by reading their biological frequency the second they make physical contact with it.
The globe will glow a specific color depending on where your pool falls, which determines the starting rank we put on your adventurer IDs.”
She began to walk a slow, deliberate circle around the pillar, instantly falling into an educational, highly animated explanation flow that felt right out of an academy training lecture.
“The baseline colors are incredibly simple,” Flair said, holding up a finger to punctuate her points as she counted down the tiers.
“Blue means your mana is significantly low, placing you in Class E.
Green means you have a significantly higher reserve, falling under Class D.
Then we have Brown, which shows an advanced mana capacity, placing you in Class C.
Red indicates an incredibly strong, high-tier mana presence, giving you Class A ranking.
Yellow shows an individual is an absolute monster of strength, launching them straight into Class S.
And finally, Orange indicates someone who is completely broken and super strong, granting them entry into the legendary Class SS or S+ tiers.
Got it?”
Stopping her walk, Flair leaned her hip casually against the stone pillar and rested her chin in her hand, casting a highly performative, sweeping glance over the group.
“Though, honestly,” she continued, her voice dropping into a playful, conversational drawl, “you can usually tell what someone is going to get just by looking at them.
Judging by the way some people look—mostly the weak ones, real scrawny, low-stamina types—they almost always end up lighting it up blue for that classic E-rank starter pack.”
As she spoke the words “weak” and “scrawny,” her eyes locked squarely onto Kaelen, lingering on his lean frame with a deadpan, deeply deliberate stare that left absolutely no room for interpretation.
But just as Kaelen’s jaw tightened, Flair’s face instantly shifted into a bright, easygoing grin, and she waved her hand dismissively before he could explode.
“Though, judging by how you guys actually look as a unit,” she added, her voice dripping with an incredibly thick, heavy coat of sarcasm as she gave Kaelen’s slender shoulders one last amused up-and-down glance, “I highly doubt there will be any E-ranks among you. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
You all honestly look really strong.”
Kaelen instantly picked up on the blatant, targeted jab.
His hands balled into tight fists at his sides, and a visible twitch jumped in his jaw as he ground his teeth together in pure, simmering anger, his icy glare narrowing so hard it could have chipped the stone pillar right in front of him.
Flair clapped her ledger shut against her side and gestured toward the glowing artifact.
“Alright, now one by one, step forward and touch the globe with both of your hands.”
Karen stepped forward first.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands shook slightly as she nervously reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before pressing both of her palms flat against the cool, light gray surface of the orb.
For a second, the globe flickered violently, the cloudy mists inside swirling into a chaotic storm.
Suddenly, it flashed a blinding, vibrant light red hue that illuminated the entire room, before rapidly settling into a deep, rich, glowing light brown color.
“Ohhh!
Wow!” Lisa and Kaelen exclaimed in perfect, stunned unison.
Lisa was so genuinely impressed by the sheer density of the aura that she began clapping her hands warmly, a bright, proud smile breaking across her face.
“Incredible, Karen!
That is an exceptionally solid foundation.”
Flair’s eyes went completely wide as she hovered over the feedback metrics on the terminal.
“Wow!
Her mana is so incredibly strong!” she proclaimed in a booming, dramatic voice that echoed off the stone walls.
“I bet some people out there won’t even be able to top that baseline!”
As she let out that loud exclamation, she deliberately angled her head and shot a pointed, highly hurtful look directly at Kaelen, her eyes gleaming with the absolute joy of a seasoned veteran who thoroughly enjoyed roasting and tormenting him at every given opportunity.
Kaelen simply locked his jaw, his eyes narrowing into slits as he deliberately ignored the bait, though a small vein throbbed near his temple.
He completely brushed past Flair’s biting comments, his face instantly softening into a genuine, supportive expression as he stepped up to join Lisa.
He began clapping his hands firmly and cheering for Karen, giving her an encouraging nod.
“Great job, Karen.
That’s a massive start for the team.”
“She’s got a massive amount of latent mana stored in her core,” Flair continued, scribble-scratching furiously on her clipboard with an appreciative whistle.
“She’s a total diamond in the rough—incredible raw potential!
She just needs proper tactical training to fully master her output and stabilize the frequency.”
Flair ripped the top sheet with a satisfying flourish and shouted out cheerfully, “Karen, Class C Rank right out of the gate!”
Karen beamed, her cheeks flushing a bright pink as she stepped back from the pillar, cradling her hands against her chest with a proud, ecstatic smile.
“Thank you!
I—I’ll do my absolute best not to let the party down!”
Flair watched her step away, her eyes narrowing slightly as her mind began to race beneath her cheerful exterior.
This girl is incredibly strange, Flair thought to herself, her eyes tracking the lingering, faint light brown aura around Karen.
Her baseline mana signature is completely off the charts.
By all rights, with that kind of raw density, she should easily be placing at an A-rank right now.
It’s almost like something deep within her core is actively holding her magic back, suppressing the full weight of her output.
Flair leaned her chin on her hand, her sharp eyes scanning the rookie’s distinct features.
She must be a mixed blood or something.
Judging by that rare hair color and those refined looks, one of her parents must have been a high royal, perhaps.
She’s definitely a half-elf.
There’s no other explanation for that kind of latent structural power.
A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of Flair’s lips.
She tapped her clipboard against her thigh, her eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity.
“This is going to be interesting,” she muttered under her breath.
“Alright, Kaelen, your turn,” Flair said, her tone practically dripping with anticipated amusement as she gestured to the reset globe.
“Let’s see if you can at least get a nice, pretty blue to match that cloak.”
Kaelen stepped up to the pillar, utterly ignoring her jab.
He adjusted his dark cloak with supreme, arrogant executive status, leveling his shoulders to project absolute architectural authority.
With a calm, deliberate breath, he placed both of his hands firmly onto the magic globe.
The moment his skin made contact, the system went completely haywire.
The globe didn’t just glow—it began cycling through the frequencies at a blinding, high-velocity pace.
It flashed Blue, snapped to Green, surged into Brown, exploded into Red, ignited into Yellow, and then…
it forced its way into an entirely unknown, uncalibrated color.
A deep, abyssal, Phantom Purple—the unmistakable, terrifying hue of absolute void energy.
What does this strange phenomenon mean?
By rapidly cycling through every single known frequency before manifesting a completely undocumented sixth color, Kaelen has shattered the laws of standard magic measurement.
How can someone with a zero-mana rating trigger an energy so dense it breaks the terminal?
And where exactly does this leave his rank in a world governed by rigid tiers?
The calibration is failing, and the system is about to break.
Stay tuned for the next episode of The Vanguard of the Void!