Inside the Dragonlord Guild hall stood not only the female knight client and the three men behind her, but also members from both the Dragonlord Guild and the Forest Sprite Guild. Alan knew some of them—living in the same town as fellow mages, their members often teamed up for missions.

The Forest Sprite Guild had sent a tall, handsome young man named Garisding. Had his luminous green hair been golden instead, it would’ve elevated his charm considerably.

"Hey Alan," Garisding greeted with a smile lighting his refined features upon spotting him. "Didn’t expect this request to drag the guild president himself out. Quite a surprise."

Alan shrugged. "Blame it on being born under the wrong sign. And seriously—white suits for field missions? A bit flashy, don’t you think?"

"Old habits," Garisding chuckled, unfazed by the jab. "I itch all over if I skip a day in a suit."

"Try black then. Hides stains better." Alan stepped forward, playfully punching Garisding’s chest.

"I prefer white. Pure as my soul." Garisding sighed, lightly ruffling Alan’s silver hair with envy in his emerald eyes. "If only my green locks could turn this shade..."

Alan batted his hand away. Garisding was notoriously vain—obsessed with his looks but hating his green hair and matching eyes. Alan privately thought the gem-like eyes were striking; the hair, admittedly, less so.

"Alan Renas," a crisp voice cut in. The silver-armored knight approached. "I’m Verris Dracula, your client. Call me Verris—or Knight."

"Alan Renas, president of Cloud Peak Guild." He pressed his staff to his chest in formal greeting. First impressions mattered, even if names were known.

"Alan Renas? *The* author of *Mercenary World*?" An older man behind Verris suddenly spoke up.

"If Newdali City has only one Alan Renas, then yes." Alan grinned. Denial was pointless—his real name topped every *Magic Weekly* chapter.

"Brilliant work. That shameless Chi Hanfeng training little Amy? Felt real. If not for your mage robes, I’d have pegged you for a swordsman." The man’s praise was earnest. He’d bought a hundred copies of *Magic Weekly* at one gold coin each just to share with friends—all for a protagonist who dreamed of being a mercenary since childhood.

"An honor to earn your approval. Thank you for your support." Alan’s tone softened respectfully. Patrons deserved courtesy.

The man blinked, stunned. Arrogant mages rarely bowed to mercenaries. These "darlings of the heavens" seldom spared them a glance—yet here stood an S Rank Mage using "Your."

Verris exhaled inwardly too. Politeness eased her worries. Temporary teams fractured easily; one misstep could wipe out the whole squad.

"Everyone’s here. We move out now—I’ll detail the mission en route." Verris cut off further chatter.

"Take care of me on this mission, Alan." A clear voice sounded beside him. Alan turned to see Crimson Cherry—a crimson-haired mage from Dragonlord Guild. Three years his senior, an S Rank Mage like him, and a fellow magic-warrior hybrid whose strength ran deep. He’d always wondered if her name held special meaning.

"I’d never dare claim to ‘take care’ of you," Alan demurred. Even Arcane Academy’s elders praised her prowess. "At most... we watch each other’s backs."

A rare smile touched Crimson Cherry’s cool features. "Still humble. Newdali’s Top Little Demon—you earned that ranking."

The "Three Little Demons" ranked Newdali’s strongest young mages: Alan, Crimson Cherry, and Garisding. Alan hated the nickname—too crude. The ranking itself? Fabricated gossip spread by Academy elders.

"No humility here. I’d never claim first place before you, Sakura."

"Planning to hand your ‘Top Demon’ throne to Crimson Cherry?" Garisding teased from Alan’s side.

"Yours for the taking."

"Garisding’s no match for me," Crimson Cherry stated flatly. "Third place suits him."

Garisding rolled his eyes. Since when was "perpetual third" a compliment? He had ambitions too.

"Hey, mages," rumbled the axe-wielding Barbarian, interrupting them. "Walk and talk?"

"Sure," they chorused.

"Quite the trio," the Barbarian chuckled.

Ten minutes later, led by Verris, the seven stood outside the guild hall.

*Whoosh!*

A sharp whistle pierced the night. Moments later, eight massive griffins descended through the darkness.

"Whoa—hold up!" The Barbarian’s bell-sized eyes bulged at the griffin landing before him. "We’re riding *these* Beastmonsters?!"