The guild master let out a hearty laugh, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the high, stone walls of the guild hall. His mirth was genuine, yet his weathered features showed a certain look of perplexity, a faint crease between his brows, underneath the practiced composure of a man who had seen too much. “So, he does. I never thought I’d see another one in my lifetime.” He finished, his voice dropping slightly as he eyed Ayron with a newfound, intense scrutiny.

  The young man at the center of this sudden attention wasn’t sure what to think. The guild master was an enigma of immense power. Ayron could feel his ki, and it was sharp and intense; a palpable aura of power that felt like a challenge, daring anyone in his path to defy it. The young man had never felt a presence so overwhelmingly intimidating. Ayron knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his physical strength and mastery of ki were too great for the foreigner to even attempt to oppose.

  The sensation was less a threat and more a certainty, a fundamental law of nature.

  Kaysi, who glanced nervously between the formidable guild master and the stiff-backed tower director, finally broke the tension in the room. “So, what happens now?” he asked. “You can’t punish him for this. It wasn’t his fault the examiner registered him incorrectly.”

  Malik had a slight smile playing on his lips. “Punishment? No. That’s not the way of Raider’s Tower.” He nodded once, a decisive movement. “He’ll simply be placed at his correct tower level, 316, according to his attack power.” His gaze then shifted to the tower director. “There shouldn’t be an issue any longer, right, Vanny?”

  Vanya was a study in controlled displeasure. He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of a man burdened by incompetence, or in this case, sheer anomaly. The man took a few agonizing moments before he answered, his gaze fixed on Ayron with a look of concealed disdain. “He’s a liability, Malik,” Vanya stated dryly. “A level 316 fighter with no hue to indicate emotional signatures? It’s unheard of. I doubt anyone would want to fight someone with such a strange result, let alone trust him as a teammate. He disrupts the entire system of ranking and prediction.”

  Before the guild master could respond, Iridiana erupted. “I’ll schedule a match with him right now!” she stated adamantly, her eyes blazing with a mix of excitement and indignation. She stepped forward, practically vibrating with energy. “He’s going to be an asset! A complete anomaly is exactly what we need to shake things up! What are you talking about?!” the young woman squealed with excitement, nearly bouncing up and down as she messed with her panel. Her former concern was completely forgotten in the face of what she saw as a thrilling, unprecedented opportunity. Her enthusiasm was a stark contrast to the director’s rigid disapproval.

  Within moments, Ayron’s RTG panel rang again. “You’ve got a match! Press to accept!”

  The director sighed, his tongue clicking in frustration. “Fine, but he’s on a short leash.” He mentioned, pointing his finger at the newest recruit before leaving the room.

  “I’m sorry he’s caused you so much trouble.” The guild master commented. “He means well, he’s just wound tighter than an eight-day clock. Being a tower director is no easy task.

  “No problem at all, sir,” Ayron nodded. “I just appreciate you guys vouching for me. If you hadn’t been here, I’m not sure what would’ve happened.”

  The digital chime of the guild master’s panel began to sound, and Malik glanced down at his wrist with an audible, world-weary sigh. "Looks like I have another fire to put out," he murmured, his gaze lifting to the old tower instructor, Kaysi. "It was great seeing you again, Kaysi. I truly wish it were under better circumstances."

  Kaysi, a man whose eyes still held the mischievous twinkle of a younger man despite his age, offered a warm, inviting grin. “You’ll have to stop by the tavern, it’s on me. We can catch up properly.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” the guild master grinned.

  A bright, genuine smile illuminated the features of Iridiana as she stepped forward to embrace the older man. “Thanks for coming, Grandpa! Your timing was impeccable.”

  “No, thank you, my Rae of starshine,” Malik responded, his professional facade softening completely as he enveloped his granddaughter in a protective embrace. His smile was filled with paternal pride. “Let me know when your next match is. I’d like to see what this young man can do.” The guild master’s shrewd, assessing gaze landed squarely on Ayron, who stood quietly taking it all in. “Have you sparred with him, Kaysi?” he inquired.

  Kaysi nodded before chuckling softly under his breath, a sound laced with genuine admiration. “Honestly, Malik, I wish I were still an active instructor. He’s the kind of talent that makes you regret retirement. I have a gut feeling he’s going to make it to the elite tower in a matter of weeks, not months. Our tower might actually win the Grand Tower Tournament this year, with him on the roster.”

  “Good,” the guild master nodded, his smile now a satisfied, professional curve. "That's exactly what I like to hear." He stepped toward the exit, pausing at the threshold to offer a final, significant word to Ayron. “I expect to hear great things from you, young man. Don't disappoint." With that, he turned and walked out of the exam room, the door clicking shut behind him.

  A moment of silence hung in the air, broken by Kaysi, who was unable to contain his disbelief. "That was completely unexpected. I didn’t know you were in the stands, Iridiana! I would’ve said hello."

  “It’s okay,” Iridiana replied, waving away his concern with a lighthearted smile. Her watermelon-pink eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, were bright with amusement. “Any time Damyan gets a match, I usually pop my head in. He consistently picks fights with people way out of his league, though his spirit is… admirable. He really picked a doozy this time, challenging someone with your kind of output." She let out a soft, melodic laugh. “He even picked a battle with me once, and I’m a stage six enki user. The tower didn’t even allow the match to be scheduled—too much of a liability for him.”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Stage six?” Ayron’s brow raised in genuine surprise, his interest piqued immediately.

  “I’ve accessed all five core enki techniques, as well as gained a non-traditional technique, which is unheard of,” Iridiana confirmed, a slight, proud grin playing on her lips. She looked at him with an unnerving level of perception. “Seeing your exam and the pure, unstructured energy you released, I can tell you’re an outlier, or what we sometimes call a stage zero user.”

  “How can you tell that from a simple test?” The foreigner questioned, genuinely puzzled. His own understanding of enki was shrouded in misinformation. Although he was a member of the warrior’s pen, it was so long ago that his memories are vague, almost erased.

  “The prism is far more than just a measurement tool; it has multiple, intricate uses,” Iridiana explained, her voice taking on a slightly educational tone. “First and foremost, it identifies and maps the emotional and energetic markers within a person’s aura. Secondly, and for our purposes today, it can show the examiners precisely which of the core enki techniques have been accessed and mastered by a user.”

  “Okay?” Ayron looked back at the large crystal prism on the pedestal, his confusion obvious. He had only seen it as a measure of raw power.

  “The five basic techniques: enhancement, emission, transmutation, manipulation, and conjuring, each give a specific, unique energetic pattern that is displayed on the prism through the light it projects. Outliers, like you, have no such structured pattern. The colors represent emotional markers: fiery red for anger, blue for sadness, yellow for happiness, green for fear, orange for curiosity, and purple for despair.” Iridiana explained. “Other colors can present themselves, but these are the traditional six that are seen consistently.”

  “You don’t have a distinct emotional marker.” The young woman pointed at Ayron. “Your energy is raw, chaotic, and utterly beautiful.” She paused, her enthusiasm growing. “Can I show you something to illustrate the difference?”

  “Be my guest.” Ayron, intrigued, took his hand off the prism. The room, which had been bathed in the soft, uniform glow of his own aura, went pitch black in an instant.

  Within moments, Iridiana placed her own hand flat against the cool, smooth surface of the prism. The darkness was instantly shattered. A spectacular, almost blinding, torrent of color and texture began emanating from the prism and spreading across the room. It was an ethereal, moving map of her inner power: vibrant red swirls pulsed; serene blue dots floated, representing her mastery of the calming technique; sharp green triangles zipped across the ceiling, warm yellow zig zags crackled with energy, dynamic orange squiggles, and finally, a deep, powerful purple chevron.

  “Looking at my prism, you can tell which emotional markers correspond with their techniques.” Iridiana grinned. “But, those are stories for another time.”

  The young man was instantly mesmerized, captivated, and enamored by the sheer plethora of structured color and moving texture that now enveloped the room, an aesthetic display of sheer, controlled power. The young woman with the striking watermelon-colored eyes, who stood calmly amidst her own dazzling display, captivated him completely. Ayron was suddenly, intensely, itching for a spar with her, a desire to test his raw power against her refined control.

  “See, isn’t this cool! It’s like painting with your soul!” the young woman giggled, clearly used to the awe her display inspired. “Each person has a story to tell. The prism helps the world interpret that story.”

  “Ayron, this is Iridiana Prismachi,” Kaysi formally introduced the two, his voice filled with respect. “She’s the upper guild’s ambassador, an unprecedented position for her age, as well as a direct descendant of our guild master and one of our founders, the legendary Aurora Prismachi.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine,” the young woman grinned, extending a hand to Ayron. Her eyes, bright with an almost predatory excitement, locked onto his. “I look forward to our battle tomorrow night.”

  Ayron gripped her hand, his own answering grin a practiced reflex, though a flicker of surprise crossed his face. “Tomorrow night?”

  Kaysi, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, frowned deeply. “Tomorrow night? Iridiana, are you serious? You scheduled the battle for Mundai? It’s the slowest night. ”

  “Of course!” Iridiana threw her hands up, her dark hair bouncing as she nearly jumped up and down with excitement. “Everyone’s going to want to see this match! A fresh-faced, mysterious recruit against one of the strongest in Tower Five? It’s perfect! The guild will be packed! Imagine the roar of the crowd, Kaysi! It’ll be the event of the season!” She paused, her head tilting slightly as if listening to a distant sound. “Most guildmates take Mundai as a rest day, so there will be plenty of people to watch the match!

  Suddenly, her communicator, a sleek, silver wrist-mounted device, blipped with a sharp, insistent tone. Her eyes lit up even brighter. “Oh! I gotta go. The preparation committee needs me for a 'special consultation' about the banquet. We can't have a boring party, now can we?” She winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ayron! Train hard!” Iridiana sang, spinning on her heel and practically waltzing out the door with the energy of a hummingbird.

  A heavy silence settled in the exam room after she left. Kaysi pushed off the doorframe, shaking his head. “That girl… she’s going to be a menace on the guild’s event planning budget.”

  Ayron simply sighed, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he was left alone with his instructor. It was then, in the sudden quiet, that his stomach began to roar; a long, agonizing, rumbling sound that could rival a territorial griffin. Realizing he hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast this morning, he clutched his midsection in a moment of reflexive embarrassment.

  Kaysi listened to the digestive protest and laughed. “Well, I think your stomach just made its own battle announcement. Let’s get some grub before you pass out on the floor.”

  “Do you mind if I commandeer your kitchen?” Ayron asked, the thought of a good meal instantly brightening his mood. “Seriously, I could go for a good burger.”

  Kaysi stopped, his brow furrowing in confusion. “A… what’s that? A good burger?” the instructor questioned, sounding genuinely perplexed. It was clearly a foreign concept in this world.

  Ayron’s grin widened, and a genuine, nostalgic smile reached his eyes. “Only the best food on the planet. I’m talking about a toasted bun, a perfectly seasoned patty, and melted cheese. Trust me, Kaysi, you haven't lived until you've had a proper burger.” With his hunger finally taking precedence over the looming battle, Ayron clapped Kaysi on the shoulder and steered the bewildered instructor out of the exam room, headed back to the tavern down the street.