The moment the final bell rang, he left the hall with quiet steps and made his way toward the academy’s main gate. After finishing his elective class, Ruvian didn’t linger. There were no lessons tomorrow due to the rare reprieve of a weekend, and technically, that meant the perfect opportunity for his first-ever outing.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

In a place like this, scholars from Class E didn’t get to “go out.” Not without a miracle, a bribe, or a noble’s signature. And certainly not with a simple request form. Those letters usually ended up in the bin or worse, became examples during faculty meetings for what not to entertain.

But Ruvian wasn’t planning to rely on permission. He had, in fact, already calculated an alternative. And it was currently reclining beneath the shade of an old academy tree, legs crossed, posture regal even in leisure.

Silvena D’Elvoire.

An upper-class scholar and a noble.

When Silvena D’Elvoire submitted a formal notice to leave the academy grounds, she didn’t need to wait three days for approval like the common students. Her status as the daughter of House D’Elvoire, the wealthiest merchant lineage in the capital, meant that her paperwork traveled faster, lighter, and easier than most.

The moment her letter reached the administration, it wasn’t a question of if she’d be approved, but who would escort her. And Silvena had already answered that question in advance.

She named Ruvian as her chosen companion.

Ruvian stopped a few paces from the bench, already wary. She lifted her head slightly as he approached, her eyes alight with amusement.

“Took you long enough,” Silvena said, her voice carrying indignation that didn’t quite mask her amusement.

“You do realize it’s terribly rude to keep a lady waiting on her first date?”

Ruvian decided not to entertain her, as it might have turned out worse. He wasn't flustered, but he’d learned to listen to his instincts. And right now, they were whispering all the usual warnings.

‘She's dangerous.’

He sighed. “First off, my elective ended late. Second, this is not a date.”

“Are you sure?” Her lips curled in something between a pout and a smirk.

“You really shouldn’t waste a chance like this. Dozens of men would kill for a moment alone with me, and here you are… hmm, indifferent to it all.”

She shifted her posture, legs crossed just so, eyes half-opened with a feigned allure that probably worked wonders on people less suspicious.

“If you’d drop the seduction routine and focus on the job,” Ruvian said dryly, “I’ll pay you more.”

That got her attention. Immediately, the performance dropped. Her eyes sharpened, and the teasing tone vanished without a trace. In its place was a demeanour far more honest: businesslike efficiency. Googlᴇ search novelfire(.)net

“Aight,” she said with a snap of her fingers, already standing. “Carriage is waiting just past the gate. Come on… we don’t have all day.”

Ruvian blinked and watched her saunter toward the gate with effortless confidence. His brain, still processing the whiplash. Seeing how quick she was to change her act whenever money was mentioned... was almost terrifying.

'Am I making the right decision here?' He wasn’t sure anymore. People who could turn their entire personality on and off like a switch unnerved him the most. It wasn't because of dishonesty, not really. But if someone knows how to utilize that weapon, they're a scary person.

***

The carriage rocked gently as it passed from the polished cobblestones of the central district into the older veins of the city. Outside the small window, the architecture changed – less ornamental, more lived-in. The capital had many faces, and not all of them were gilded.

Ruvian sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the shifting streets beyond. He wasn’t here for sightseeing. Where they were going wasn’t marked on any official map. It existed in the cracks of legality.

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The Ashway Bazaar.

To most, it was a place where items that should not be sold found their price. For Ruvian, it was a potential turning point.

He wasn’t deluded. The odds of finding exactly what he needed were slim. But slim was still better than none, and if fate was feeling particularly reckless, he might just stumble across something rare. Furthermore, he wanted to test his theory. How will this affect the narrative?

Across from him, Silvena crossed her legs and watched him with curiosity. The playful smirk she wore earlier had faded into something more focused and serious.

“You know…” she began, her tone light but probing. “Not many know about the Ashway. Even among the nobility, only a few houses are aware it exists… and fewer are allowed in. How did you hear about it?”

Ruvian didn’t look at her. “I would prefer to keep that as confidential,” he said simply.

Silvena narrowed her eyes, but didn’t press. Smart enough to know when a question wouldn’t yield anything useful. Still, she leaned back against the seat, arms folded in mock irritation. Well, she wasn't asking because she needed his access.

She had her own.

The House of D’Elvoire wasn’t just another merchant family—they were the pulse behind half the capital’s economy. Bankers, logisticians, silent shareholders in institutions both noble and criminal. Influence flowed through their fingers like a coin, and coins in their hands could bend even the strictest law.

Of course, she had clearance. Her family had sponsored half the hidden trade permits that made the Ashway possible. If anything, she was only surprised he had found out about it. And that made him, if nothing else… interesting.

Without a word, Silvena reached into the side compartment of her seat and pulled out a small velvet pouch. She placed it on the seat between them, the gesture casual, but not careless.

“For you, try not to lose them. They weren’t cheap.”

Ruvian opened the pouch.

Inside lay a finely wrought mask—light, flexible, and shaped to cover only the eyes and upper face. A noble’s masquerade design, but far more intricate than anything worn at festivals. Alongside it rested a polished ring, deep sapphire in color.

“They’re both Grade A Disguise Artifacts,” Silvena explained, tilting her own hand to show a matching ring of emerald hue. “The mask alters facial structure just enough to confuse recognition spells. The ring weaves a subtle illusion over your mana. Together, they’ll pass you off as someone forgettable.”

Ruvian studied the items for a moment before picking them up. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the quality didn't catch his attention, but it was the implication.

Ruvian’s eyes narrowed as the [Editorial Pen] flickered to life in his vision, sketching out the quiet truths.

[Editorial Pen Inspection]

Item Name: [Masque of the Forgotten]

Enchantment:

◇ [Facial Displacement Matrix] – Slightly warps key facial identifiers to deflect recognition.

◇ [Veil of Surface Thought] – Suppresses emotional leakage and mental presence during scans.

Grade: [Artifact – Grade A]

Item Description:

◇ A masterwork masquerade mask, shaped nobly yet reinforced with mana threading.

◇ Lightweight and pressure-fitted, tailored to adapt subtly to the wearer’s bone structure.

◇ Eyes are shielded by a thin film of mana-responsive glass, obscuring gaze direction.

He set it down briefly and turned to the ring, its sapphire hue glinting faintly under the dim carriage lantern.

[Editorial Pen Inspection]

Item Name: [Azure Loop of Concealment]

Enchantment:

◇ [Passive Aura Blur] – Dulls and misaligns the wearer’s mana signature.

◇ [Thread Refract] – Causes mild interference to active scanning skills or spells.

Grade: [Artifact – Grade A]

Item Description:

◇ Forged with mana and set with a calibrated core gem. The enchantment is subtle, refined, meant for infiltration.

◇ Slight mana current can be felt pulsing from within the ring, like a second heartbeat.

He turned the mask in his fingers, then raised it to his face. As it settled over his eyes, the air around him shifted slightly. The mask was cold at first. Then… oddly comfortable.

Silvena adjusted her own emerald mask in the glass reflection of the window. With it on, she seemed sharper. Not just beautiful, but unknowable in a way that was difficult to place. Like her real face had been hiding behind something soft and invisible.

“You wear it well,” she said, tone smooth as ever.

Then, with a mock grimace:

“But oof. That illusion really did you dirty.”

She leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “Shame, really. I was hoping to enjoy that face of yours. Now, with that hideous disguised face, I wouldn’t talk to you if I didn’t know better.”

“Wait, why does your face look like....” Ruvian replied, tone flat.

She grinned. “Good." She cut off Ruvian. "That means it’s working.”

'As I thought, it was Instructor Delilah's face.'

Of all possible disguises, she had apparently chosen that one. Ruvian decided not to talk about it. The absurdity of the situation needed a second to marinate. Silvena, meanwhile, was far too pleased with herself. She was adjusting her mask with the pride of an artist admiring her latest work.

Ruvian looked at his ring, tightened subtly, syncing with his mask. He could feel the illusion settling over him, one that would crumple under a God’s gaze, maybe, but not under the eyes of thieves or any other merchants.

Which, tonight, was enough.

And then...

[You have unlocked a hidden story sub route!]

‘Oh...'

[You have received +500 Plot Points!]

——{NEW QUEST GENERATED}——

Quest: [Ashes Beneath Silk]

Objective: [Locate and secure the Omen Scroll before it falls into unknown hands.]

Location: [Ashway Bazaar, Lower Tier – Hidden Annex of the Bazaar Vaults]

Requirement:

– Retrieve, buy or intercept the Omen Scroll

Reward: [+2500 Plot Points]

Note:

A strange artifact has surfaced in the black veins of the Ashway Bazaar, a scroll written in an unknown language, pulsating with an ominous presence.

Failure may progress the calamity in motion, an event that cannot be undone.

Ruvian smiled. A small reaction, controlled enough to hide the thought behind it.

PP= 2480

ME= 270