Azhriel exhaled quietly as Frost Born faded into mist and slipped back into his chest, like a blade returning to its sheath.

The moment it vanished, the cold air around him softened, and the eerie chill that clung to his body began to fade.

His clothes, torn and bloodied from the battle, had already started mending.

Threads of enchanted fabric weaved themselves back into place, pulling tears closed with quiet magic.

Within moments, the coat looked almost untouched—except for the dried blood, a reminder of the fight.

That was the quality of high-grade gear. Just like the Academy's uniform, Azhriel's clothes weren't ordinary.

They were enchanted, self-repairing, durable against both magic and blades.

A pair of footsteps echoed from behind, followed by a familiar voice.

"Wow, boss. You really did defeat them all by yourself, huh," Phantom said, stepping beside him.

Noel followed after, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief.

Azhriel didn't turn. His voice was calm and steady. "I don't lie, Phantom. If I say I'll do something… I'll do it."

He said it simply, but his tone carried weight. He didn't speak those words for Phantom.

He spoke them while looking straight at Noel.

It was to make it clear—this is what your new boss is capable of.

And in a world like this, there was no better way to prove yourself than with strength.

Noel lowered his eyes slightly, his throat dry. That smile of Azhriel's earlier—the one that looked like a scammer's grin.

Now it felt a lot more dangerous.

Just then, Azhriel's breath fastened faintly. He paused as he closed his eyes.

Inside his body, something shifted.

A warmth rose from his core. It wasn't hot or burning. It felt steady, powerful—like the rising tide of a calm ocean.

The mana inside him surged. The flow became smoother. The weight on his body lightened.

He opened his eyes, and a small blue glow faded from his pupils.

'I broke through…'

He could feel it clearly.

His core had changed.

He had passed the threshold.

From Initiate- to a full Initiate.

It wasn't just the fight. It was the pressure, the strain, the will to keep pushing forward. Everything tonight—the tricks, the pain, the blood—it all added up. And now, it had rewarded him.

He didn't smile. He didn't show joy. He simply accepted it, like one step on a long road.

"Let's go," he said, turning away from the broken stalls and bloodstained stones. "Phantom. Noel. The commotion we caused is too loud—even for the Black Market. Someone will come investigate."

He looked down the street.

Empty now. Silent. But not for long.

"You're correct," Phantom said, his expression more serious than before. "Even the Black Market has some rules. And we made a mess right in their territory."

Noel swallowed and finally spoke. "You think they'll send someone strong?"

Azhriel nodded slightly. "Depends on who's in charge of this main district. But even if they don't care about the demons… they'll care about the damage. Property destruction, dead buyers, dead sellers. That's bad for business."

"And the Black Market doesn't forgive damage to its business," Phantom added quietly.

"Exactly," Azhriel said. "That's why we leave—now."

Noel looked at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.

Azhriel raised his hand as a greyish blue aura energy came out of his hand. It was his null element.

Like smoke in the wind, it dissipated everything related to Azhriel. His mana signature's vanished, his aura and presence withering.

Only the demonic energy remained in the surroundings.

With a final glance at the frozen body of the Sergeant still buried under ice, Azhriel turned and walked off into the shadows.

The other two followed.

Behind them, the cold street remained silent, but in the corners of the rooftops… faint silhouettes were already beginning to gather.

And so, the night continued—dark, dangerous.

*******

"Well, that was refreshing."

Azhriel muttered to himself as he leaned back on the wooden chair, water still dripping lightly from the ends of his black hair.

A towel rested around his shoulders, and a faint scent of herbal soap lingered in the air.

The room was quiet, lit by a warm mana lamp on the table beside him. Its soft glow painted the walls in golden orange hues, adding a sense of comfort after a long, cold night.

He was currently staying at Morgan's Inn, a small but reputable place located on the quieter outskirts of the First City.

It was far from the heart of the Black Market, far from the chaos he had caused just hours ago.

Though the Black Market had gone into full alert—sending their enforcers to investigate the sudden deaths, destruction, and demon activity—they hadn't found anything.

And they wouldn't.

Azhriel had taken every precaution.

He'd cleansed his body of mana signatures the moment the fight ended.

The enchanted robe and earrings had done their work well—altering his scent, mana pattern, even his facial memory through slight illusion spells.

And lastly, he had stayed back in the area for another two hours after the incident, blending into the shadows like a simple bystander.

Moving away too quickly would've drawn more suspicion.

By the time he and his group left, the panic had calmed. The market had gone back to its usual shady business.

He stretched slightly, letting out a relaxed sigh. His body still ached a little, but he had been through worse.

Then—

Knock.

The door to his room clicked softly, followed by a familiar voice.

"Boss, we're all here." Phantom's tone was casual, but respectful.

"You all can come in."

Azhriel said removing the towel, his voice calm.

The door creaked open, and one by one, the people stepped inside.

Phantom entered first, with his usual calm expression and a serious air about him. His footsteps were quiet, measured, and straight to the point—just like the man himself.

Right behind him came Noel, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. He stepped inside with slouched shoulders and a sigh already forming on his lips.

Beside Noel walked his wife, Zeriah—a woman with long red hair tied in a loose braid and striking green eyes.

There was tiredness on her face, signs of years of hardship etched into her cheeks and brow. But beneath all of that, her posture remained refined, her steps graceful.

She had once been a noble.

Though the world had stripped her of titles and luxuries, it hadn't taken her dignity.

Trailing behind them was the old family from the museum, the ones Azhriel had saved that same night—the man named Miller, and his wife Leah.

Unlike before, they looked healthier. Cleaner clothes, fuller faces, and even a small, rare smile between them.

"It's good to see you again, saviour," Miller said with a respectful bow, Leah beside him also repeated the bow, her voice soft. "Truly, thank you."

Azhriel opened his mouth to reply. Word's reached his ears first.

"When did he become a saviour? He's just a scammer, isn't he?" Noel muttered under his breath, didn't expecting anyone to hear it.

"Ow—!"

Zeriah pinched him right under the arm.

"Show some respect," she said angrily. "He saved our lives."

Her voice was sharp, refined, and absolute. The kind of tone that didn't allow backtalk.

Noel flinched, rubbing his side, looking away like a sulking child. "But he blackmailed me into signing that ridiculous contract," he mumbled.

This time, he got a glare.

A very cold glare.

"Shut up, Noel," Zeriah snapped.

The entire room went quiet for a second, then Phantom quietly snorted as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Azhriel, meanwhile, said nothing.

He had listened to everything—Noel's complaints, Zeriah's scolding, the formal thanks from Miller and Leah.

But he didn't interrupt.

He just sat back on the edge of the wooden table, arms folded, a calm look on his face.

"You don't need to do all this," Azhriel said after a moment. "No more calling me 'saviour' or anything like that."

He waved a hand casually.

"Oh, and from now on, just call me boss instead. That sounds better. And a lot less cheesy."

Miller blinked, then gave a small smile. "Okay… boss."

"Good then," Azhriel said, his tone shifting as he leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms lightly on his knees. His relaxed posture didn't match the serious glint in his eyes.

"Let's get to the real talk."

Everyone straightened slightly, even Phantom who had been lazily leaning on the wall tilted his head with mild interest.

Azhriel's gaze swept over them, calm but steady.

"I want to open a company."

The words dropped into the room like a stone in still water.Everyone straightened slightly, even Phantom who had been lazily leaning on the wall tilted his head with mild interest.

Azhriel's gaze swept over them, calm but steady.

"I want to open a company."

The words dropped into the room like a stone in still water.Everyone straightened slightly, even Phantom who had been lazily leaning on the wall tilted his head with mild interest.

Azhriel's gaze swept over them, calm but steady.

"I want to open a company."

The words dropped into the room like a stone in still water.