As Jessica patiently explained, I began to form a clear understanding of mages and the Mages Association.

First, their power. A mage apprentice wasn’t much stronger than a professionally trained warrior. But a full-fledged Mage could wipe out entire battalions with area spells, while an Archmage could annihilate a city with a single rune-grade incantation. Especially now, with the endless war against the Demonkin raging, mages’ terrifying combat prowess made them indispensable.

Of course, raw power alone only bred fear. This world had many formidable warriors beyond mages—Sword Saints, Paladins, Elder Assassins—all wielding supernatural strength. What truly earned mages universal respect was their other role: preservers of history.

Before the Demonkin emerged, humanity had never known lasting peace. After the collapse of the Primordial Dynasty in the Third Era, barbarian tribes built countless new nations atop the ruins of fallen giants. The continent drowned in chaos: wars between kingdoms, noble rebellions slaughtering kings, peasant uprisings against tyranny. War didn’t just destroy lives—it erased cultural heritage, dragging civilization backward.

The Mages Association’s sacred duty was rescuing books, treasures, and artifacts doomed to burn in wars, safeguarding them in hidden vaults to preserve civilization’s essence. It was said their library held records of every major historical event—from the Mythic Age to the current Fourth Era.

Their most celebrated act came 120 years ago. As the Eastern Continent teetered on total collapse under the Demonkin invasion, the Association evacuated countless priceless texts and technical manuscripts to the West. Two Archmages gave their lives for this mission. Because of them, the West never truly forgot the fallen East.

Then, thirty years ago, mages pioneered another wildly profitable venture: the Gold Coin Bank.

Though paper currency existed, people still trusted only gold and silver coins. But coins were heavy, risky to carry, and irresistible to thieves—especially for merchants hauling both goods and sacks of clinking gold.

The Gold Coin Bank solved this. Merchants stored wealth in enchanted Gold Coin Cards. Settling payments required only two cards and a quick bank visit. Far simpler.

Money houses had issued gold notes before, but these cards were cutting-edge magic—jointly crafted by the Mages Association and Alchemists Guild. They featured advanced anti-forgery wards: transactions required the owner’s fingerprint. Lost cards could be replaced for a small fee.

Backed by both Associations, the bank’s credibility was absolute. "As long as the Association stands," their motto declared, "your coin stands." This ancient trust mattered deeply. Even nobles and wealthy non-merchants preferred cards over vaults guarded by armed men.

Naturally, fees applied: card issuance, transfers, withdrawals, annual charges. Most flowed straight into the Associations’ coffers. No one knew their exact wealth, but they were filthy rich.

In short, every mage carried three innate halos: power, wealth, and culture. Such figures commanded reverence wherever they went.

Listening to Jessica’s patient explanations, I finally grasped how exalted a mere Level 3 Mage like me truly was. No wonder the arrogant Lord Raymond dared not openly defy me. No wonder Leonard refused to break ties with me despite the Merchant Guildmaster’s pressure. No wonder the Captain saluted sharply upon recognizing my magic. No wonder bystanders’ eyes held genuine awe when I summoned fireballs. *Well, so I’m actually this awesome?*

But speaking of precious texts, another thought struck me. "Jessica, I’ve heard the Association’s library holds rare magical tomes—even spell scrolls. Is that true?"

"Of course! But you need Contribution Points to access them."

"Contribution Points?"

"The Association posts long-term and bounty tasks. Assisting Gold Coin Card production is a long-term duty. Hunting the Assassins Guild leader? That’s a bounty. Complete tasks, earn coin *and* points. Points unlock the library or scroll rentals."

"Where are these tasks listed?"

"Every quarter, the Association releases a handbook detailing all tasks and rewards. Just pick one up at the front desk."

Jessica answered every question without the slightest impatience, showing no hurry to leave. I almost felt guilty. "You must have duties at the Mage Tower. Am I wasting your time?"

"Not at all! Guiding new members is part of my role." She winked mischievously, lowering her voice. "Or... is the *honorable master* eager to return to his cute little maid for some *grown-up fun*? Don’t want me interrupting?"

My face must have been bright red beneath the mask. This Jessica really was a tomboy—blunt, fearless, and utterly shameless.