"The meal is ready, sir!"

  After some time, a small procession of servants carrying silver trays returned, led by Elias.

  His duties should have ended at the reception desk, but the fear of being dismissed—or something worse—had compelled him to personally make sure the service was flawless. He did not trust any of the other staff to handle it, so he had accompanied Mark the entire time.

  The moment they entered, the aroma that flooded the area was rich, a mixture of strong spices Mark had never smelled before.

  The servants placed the trays on the table. As the silver lids were lifted, the fragrance spread through the restaurant, causing nobles and merchants at nearby tables to pause their conversations.

  Even Alden, the treasurer, glanced away from his plate, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized what was being served.

  Elias set down the first dish with almost religious care.

  "To begin, Sir Vaelin. Thin cuts of Greater Sand Lizard, a Rank D beast. Our chefs performed an infusion of rare essences to stabilize the raw mana within the meat."

  Mark, who had been sitting there waiting for his meal, was slightly taken aback by the scene, but he did not mind.

  Essence infusion?

  Rank D?

  Internally, he had no idea what the man was talking about. He could only guess. Even so, he kept his expression calm, giving a slight nod as if he were familiar with every detail.

  But something caught his attention.

  Sand Lizard.

  The thin, translucent slices of meat, arranged symmetrically, stirred an unpleasant memory. The texture and color vaguely reminded him of the desert lizards that had visited him on his first day.

  Cindralisks.

  'Ugh...' Mark quickly pushed the thought away, afraid he might vomit on the table. Even if they were not the same species, it did nothing to help his appetite.

  "As you may know." Elias continued, unaware of Mark's thoughts, lowering his voice with reverence. "For Rank C dishes or higher, the establishment requires the presentation of an adventurer's identification to ensure the client can withstand the mana load. However, since we have not yet had the pleasure of registering your documents in our system, I took the liberty of selecting the finest options from our kitchen."

  Elias maintained a flawless smile as he said this.

  His mind had worked quickly.

  He had no idea what Mark's rank was, and serving something too potent to a client who might simply be a wealthy but untrained visitor would be disastrous for the Haven's reputation.

  On the other hand, asking for his identification now could sound like an insult after the blunder at the entrance.

  So he relied on what he had overheard earlier, learning that Mark was an adventurer, and brought the best dishes he could.

  "In addition to the Greater Sand Lizard cuts, we also have Steppe Bison, both Rank D. These are delicacies that any ordinary human can safely enjoy and benefit from."

  Elias revealed the dark cut of meat. "The bison loin was sealed in thunder boar fat. It is accompanied by glass rice, cultivated under magical formations so the fiber remains pure and does not interfere with mana absorption."

  As he spoke, Elias gestured with his hands, as if he had truly memorized all of it.

  Mark looked at what appeared to be a juicy steak. The grains of rice were so clear he could see the bottom of the plate through them.

  On Earth, he had worried about the basics. He had never imagined that in a world like this, food like this existed.

  It was truly unique.

  Beneath the cloak, Pippin stirred.

  The smell of the food was making the servant restless.

  Neither of them had eaten for several hours. While Mark himself did not feel particularly hungry, the same could not be said for Pippin. It would be better to feed the servant before he decided to slip away in the middle of the night for a "midnight snack."

  Just imagining the monstrous figure running through the city gave him a headache.

  'Time to eat...'

  Mark picked up the heavy silver utensils, preparing himself.

  "..."

  "..."

  "..."

  Elias and his entire entourage were still standing beside him, watching.

  "You may leave."

  "C-certainly, sir! I wish you an excellent meal." Elias quickly stepped back with his group after one final bow.

  Once he confirmed they had left, Mark brought the first bite to his mouth, slowly chewing the bison meat. The moment he swallowed, his taste buds reacted, and the flavor filled his senses.

  What he felt was simply the taste of meat.

  Nothing more.

  '?'

  It tasted like ordinary food.

  If it were not for the faint trace of mana he could truly feel circulating, he would have thought Elias was trying to scam him.

  Discreetly, Mark speared one of the thin Greater Sand Lizard slices. In a movement too fast for human eyes, he pretended to bring the fork to his mouth, but diverted the motion, dropping the piece beneath his cloak.

  Pippin, already waiting, devoured the meat instantly before anyone could notice.

  "Did you feel anything?" Mark whispered quietly.

  Pippin's eyes glowed in the darkness beneath the cloak. The servant let out a faint clicking sound and shook his head.

  'No?'

  Mark sighed inwardly.

  If even a weak servant like Pippin could not feel anything, it was obvious why he himself would not either.

  This was useless at his level.

  The dish was nothing more than a well-seasoned dinner. This kind of food might work for low-level individuals as a supplement. For someone strong, consuming it regularly made no sense; the effect was far too limited for the effort and cost involved.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Mark continued eating indifferently, ignoring the stares around him.

  If they knew his thoughts, the paranoia in the hall would likely double.

  Mark finished his meal quickly.

  The Greater Sand Lizard meat vanished magically from his plate, leaving a small hidden figure happy and full-bellied.

  The moment he set his utensils down on the porcelain, Elias, who had been watching from a safe distance, immediately approached with a flattering smile.

  "I hope everything was to your satisfaction, Sir Vaelin," Elias commented, his eyes shining.

  Mark stood, adjusting his cloak. "It was not bad," he replied simply.

  His former self had never been good with praise, and Vaelin was no different.

  "Show me the way to the room."

  The short response made Elias blink, but he quickly recovered. "If you allow me, I will personally guide you to your quarters now." He gestured forward with his hand.

  The two left the hall under the attentive gazes of Alden and the others, entering a side corridor. As they walked, the sound of the restaurant was gradually replaced by the absolute silence of the thick carpets.

  Elias walked a step ahead, gesturing toward the polished stone walls and the statues decorating the path, briefly mentioning information about Ivory Haven.

  Mark simply nodded.

  They ascended a marble staircase to the top floor, passing heavy wooden doors until they stopped before an entrance adorned with silver details.

  Elias opened the doors with exaggerated courtesy, allowing Mark inside.

  "Your room, Sir Vaelin!"

  The interior was revealed, vast and imposing. At the center, a canopy bed with dark silk sheets dominated the space, flanked by solid wooden furniture that gleamed beneath the soft lantern light.

  The floor was covered with animal pelts Mark did not recognize, but they looked soft enough to muffle any footsteps.

  At the far end, wide windows displayed Luminaris beneath the night sky, revealing the contrast between the brilliance of the noble district and the darkness of the rest of the city.

  There was even a sitting area with leather armchairs. Through an open door, it was also possible to see a bath chamber with a stone tub, where the water had already been prepared, releasing a faint steam.

  It was the pinnacle of human luxury in that desert.

  "If you need anything, simply ring the crystal bell beside the headboard. We will be entirely at your disposal."

  Elias said, remaining by the door. He kept his hands folded, with an expectant smile, his eyes shining with the hope that Mark would remember his extra efforts.

  "Alright." Mark merely gave a slight nod, his eyes occupied as he observed the room with curiosity.

  ...

  ......

  .........

  Elias did not move.

  Why was this guy still standing there?

  "Is there a problem?"

  Elias let out a dry cough, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second.

  "No, sir... absolutely nothing." He replied, quickly bowing again. "I remain at your disposal if needed. Have a good night." With that, he turned and left, closing the doors softly.

  Mark finally exhaled, dropping the rigid posture.

  "Pippin, you can come out."

  Beneath the cloak, Pippin jumped onto the soft carpet, retrieving his top hat and letting out a sighing hiss. His belly was slightly swollen, and he seemed more lethargic.

  "Humans... they know their comforts, Sovereign," Pippin muttered, stretching his body.

  Mark looked at the servant, who seemed far too comfortable, and shook his head. Unbothered, he walked to the balcony, feeling the night wind stir his hair.

  The view was good.

  He could see Luminaris from above, a network of lights protected by walls against a sea of absolute darkness.

  "A suspicious figure..." Mark murmured into the empty air, frustration visible in his eyes.

  He could not have predicted that leaving the Crimson Ziggurat would throw him directly into the eye of a geopolitical hurricane.

  Mark had expected a world, perhaps decadent or peaceful, where he could explore and understand what Age of Blood had become after a thousand years. Instead, Luminaris was a powder keg, and he felt as though he had just stepped into it holding a lit torch.

  "I do not have many options." His eyes narrowed as he looked toward the eastern horizon, where he imagined the so-called Solis Empire was already moving its pieces.

  Leaving the Ziggurat was something he needed to do, so he truly had no alternative. He could try exploring the world by sending a commander or servant, but they might not perform well in society.

  It was a fact that his commanders were not the “good guys,” so it fell to him, who still retained some humanity and social awareness, to go out and explore—even if it meant stumbling into unknown conflicts.

  "Pippin, tomorrow we will need a real identity." Mark decided, his voice regaining the usual authority of the Sovereign. "But first..."

  He turned toward the luxurious bed. "Stand watch."

  Pippin immediately jumped to his feet, assuming a serious posture. "Yes, Sovereign!"

  The next day, he woke with sunlight hitting his face.

  Mark rose without hurry, making sure Pippin was ready before heading down to the main hall. The place was already bustling with the movement of morning, filled with the smell of fresh food and overlapping voices.

  Elias, the receptionist, seemed to be on standby. The moment he spotted Mark, he approached with the same servile posture as the previous day.

  “Good morning, Sir Vaelin. Are you hungry? Your table is ready.” He gestured toward a reserved spot on the terrace, leading the way.

  Mark did not protest. He ate in silence, observing the people around him.

  After finishing, he walked to the reception counter with something in mind.

  “Where is the Adventurers’ Guild? Can I obtain identification through them?” Mark asked directly.

  Today, he was determined to secure his adventurer identification and become an ‘official citizen.’

  Elias did not seem surprised to hear this; he had already expected something like it after the previous night’s conversation.

  “It is located in the Bronze District, sir. A large building bearing the symbol of a sword and a staff. As for identification, the Guild issues registration cards after a basic aptitude test. For someone like you, it should only be a formality, but the place has been crowded due to the troubles in the East.”

  Mark simply listened.

  The East again.

  For a neutral city, Luminaris seemed to orbit that conflict far too closely.

  “Does this card allow entry and exit from the city without issue?”

  “Yes, sir. If you are Silver Rank or above, the guards barely even look at your papers. It is the most practical document in Luminaris.”

  Mark nodded.

  Silver Rank or higher.

  He already had his target.

  Ending the conversation—and leaving Elias with restless hands and a flattering expression—he exited the Ivory Haven and stepped into the busy street.

  The morning heat was already bearing down on the pavement, but the people seemed accustomed to it. As he walked down the street, Mark felt something the moment the first rays of sunlight touched him.

  What…

  It was a faint discomfort.

  Damn.

  He had forgotten something important.

  The sun.

  Mark was still a vampire.

  As a Progenitor, he obviously would not turn to ash like in the movies, but the sun was still his natural enemy. His senses felt slightly dulled, and the consumption of his Blood Essence increased just to keep his body operating at a normal level.

  Fortunately, it was nothing serious.

  But it was still uncomfortable.

  'Is the sun here stronger than Earth’s?' Mark wondered, adjusting his cloak around his body.

  The safest presence was the servant hidden beneath his cloak. Mark was starting to genuinely envy Pippin. So far, he had done nothing except eat and cling to him like a baby koala.

  Setting that aside, Mark continued walking in search of the Guild.

  From the heights of the Aureate District, Mark observed the city’s step-like geography. Below lay the Silver District, home to wealthy merchants, and farther beyond, pressed against the walls, the Bronze District.

  That was where he needed to go.

  As he descended the long stone stairways, the mixed scent of perfume and spices was gradually replaced by the smell of coal, sweat, and dust.

  In the Bronze District, Luminaris truly pulsed with life. Large, muscular figures carried massive loads, while groups argued in front of cheap taverns even this early in the morning.

  There were so many different faces that Mark could not identify their races. Some were races he did not even know existed in Age of Blood and had never seen anywhere else.

  It only made him more curious.

  At last, he stopped before an imposing building of gray stone and black oak beams. Above it, a banner bearing the sword and staff swayed in the dry wind.

  The flow of people there was chaotic.

  Yet they all had one thing in common—the identification displayed on their bodies, marking their adventurer ranks. There were various ranks Mark could not yet identify.

  “We’ve arrived. Stay quiet,” Mark murmured to Pippin as he pushed through the reinforced double wooden doors.

  The moment he stepped inside, the interior revealed itself.

  The guild’s interior was vast.

  To the left, enormous boards were covered in mission scrolls. The noise of conversation, clanking armor, and the jingle of coins filled the hall.

  Mark walked straight toward the main counter, ignoring the side queue.

  A receptionist, visibly exhausted, stood there with her head down.

  She wore a fitted gray tunic embroidered with the sword-and-staff symbol on her chest, now wrinkled and stained with ink along the sleeves. Her brown hair was tied into a hurried bun, with several loose strands escaping to frame her face.

  Noticing someone standing before her, she lifted her head, revealing brown eyes ringed with deep dark circles and a pale face.

  The woman looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  “Good morning… sir.” She began, her voice dragging. Seeing the lack of insignia or any visible crest on Mark’s body, she hesitated for a second before letting out an audible sigh.

  “Registration, information, or quest turn-in?”

  “Registration.” Mark replied simply.

  “I see. For new registrations or renewals, you must undergo the aptitude test. As the city is currently in a special situation, the tests have been stricter. Do you have any proof of your previous rank, or…?”

  Mark remained silent.

  Proof of a previous rank?

  He had none.

  “Let’s proceed directly to the test.”

  Author’s Note: If you’re enjoying the story, please consider adding it to your favorites. It helps a lot and lets me know you’d like to see more. Thanks for reading!