The staircase sealed behind them with a soft, organic thump, like a great heart settling back into a slow, steady rhythm. Sai Ji exhaled, the air in the main sanctuary feeling strangely thin after the dense, living presence of the Den below. His body still hummed with the newly integrated stats—a thousand points of health, hundreds in strength and instinct—a power that felt less like an upgrade and more like a suit of armor three sizes too large.
He turned to his sworn guards, who were watching him with the reverent anxiety of acolytes tending a holy flame that had a tendency to singe the curtains.
"Right," he began, forcing his voice into something resembling a plan. "We're going into the city. Silvermarch. That means rules. No wolf forms. No… Sovereign 'leaks.' No accidentally making the city guards prostrate themselves because we walked by smelling of 'too much authority.'"
Fen and Lura exchanged a glance that was a masterpiece of guilty recollection.
Sai Ji's eyes narrowed. "…What did you two do in the last dynasty? Specifically involving cities."
"Nothing of lasting consequence!" Lura said, too quickly.
"Merely a minor…economic realignment," Fen rumbled, studying the ceiling with sudden intense interest.
"It was one bakery chain!And the bread only screamed for a week!"
"It was a very stressful week for carb-based commerce!"
Sai Ji pinched the bridge of his nose where a human nose would be. The gesture felt oddly natural in this form.
You were never particularly adept at blending in, my King, Sal Vera's voice chimed in his mind, a note of fond amusement clear.
Not helping, he thought back sharply.
However, she continued, I retained a relic for such occasions. From the older dynasty, for when you wished to walk among your subjects… unnoticed.
A soft pulse of silver light coalesced in his palm. It resolved into a simple, elegant amulet on a thin chain—a crescent moon of pale, opalescent stone.
"It rewrites your surface appearance," she explained aloud for the benefit of the others. "It will restore your past human visage… while containing the totality of your current power within this vessel. A sheath for the sword."
"Oh. Useful. Wait, 'containing the totality'—"
The amulet flared.
The transformation was nothing like the violent, bone-snapping horror of the gacha. This was seamless, liquid. His body didn't break; it flowed. Muscles redistributed, density compacting. His stature slimmed, height adjusting subtly. The thick pelt receded into smooth skin, his hair lengthening into a cascade of dark, silken waves. The immense, predatory aura that clung to him like a second shadow compressed inward, coiled tight behind a facade of mundane beauty.
His bodyguards let out a synchronized, choked gasp.
"Master—!" Lura stammered.
"Your…your face!" Fen managed, looking genuinely stricken.
Sai Ji stumbled to a polished section of the sanctuary wall, his heart hammering a new, lighter rhythm in a human chest.
The reflection that stared back was a stranger.
Tall, lean with the sharp grace of a honed blade, with features that seemed carved from moonlight and shadow. Silver-touched lashes framed eyes the color of a storm-lit twilight. It wasn't just handsome; it was a level of aesthetically devastating that felt biologically unfair. This was the face of someone who could start wars or end them with a well-timed sigh.
"Who… is that?" he breathed, the voice that came out smoother, clearer, but still his own.
Thatwas your preferred human form in the last dynasty, Sal Vera whispered, her mental voice carrying a sigh of nostalgia. A mask of civility for the court.
"I looked like this?"
You looked… more intense. The years have softened the rendering slightly. People used to write ballads about your profile. There were… incidents involving your discarded grooming towels.
"What kind of incidents—"
"We cannot protect this," Fen announced gravely, pulling Sai Ji from his internal panic. "This visage surpasses defensive protocols."
"Agreed," Lura nodded, deadly serious. "Master, you must not smile at any civilians. Historical records indicate a non-zero chance of spontaneous civic infatuation leading to structural fires."
Sai Ji grabbed both their shoulders. "ENOUGH. The point is to blendin. To be boring, forgettable, normal travelers. Can you two manage 'normal'?"
They looked at each other, then back at him with identical expressions of profound doubt.
"No promises," they said in unison.
{AT SILVER MARCH GATE}
The city of Silvermarch did not so much bustle as it performed a continuous, noisy ballet of commerce and chaos. Merchants hawked glowing potions, guards gossiped at their posts, and adventurers compared scars with the gravitas of philosophers debating the universe.
Sai Ji approached the main gate wearing the most anonymous traveler's cloak he could manifest, sturdy brown boots, and the expression of a man desperately trying to become one with the wallpaper.
It was a valiant, futile effort.
Partly because Fen and Lura, their own appearances subtly shifted to equally (if differently) striking human forms, flanked him like lethal, hyper-attentive sculptures. And partly because, as the gate guard lowered his clipboard, his eyes widened as if he'd been personally addressed by a minor deity.
"State your name, business, and… uh…" the guard trailed off, his gaze stuck. "Marital status? For… census purposes."
Sai Ji blinked. "What?"
His bodyguards were a blur of motion, stepping forward to form a wall of polite, smiling menace.
"Unavailable," Lura said sweetly.
"Permanently,"Fen added, his tone inviting no further inquiry.
Sai Ji shoved between them. "We're adventurers. New in town. Just here to register at the guild." He tried on a small, harmless smile.
The guard made a faint wheezing sound. "R-right. Of course. Please, proceed. And, sir? A word of advice? Maybe… ration the smiling. Indoors. For public safety."
Sai Ji stalked through the gate, grinding his perfectly aligned teeth. This was supposed to make us NORMAL.
I did warn you, Sal Vera's mental voice was rich with amusement. That vessel was sculpted to command rooms, not vanish into them.
Change it. Make me plain. Unremarkable.
I cannot. That face was ratified by three royal portraits and a treaty with the Moon Sprites. It is part of the legacy.
That is NOT comforting
Then.....
The Silvermarch Adventurers' Guild was a cacophony of clinking mugs, shouted boasts, and the low thrum of a hundred simultaneous negotiations. The moment Sai Ji pushed open the heavy oak door, the cacophony stuttered, then died.
Chairs stopped scraping. Tankards halted mid-swig. A man across the room dropped a dagger on his own foot and didn't flinch.
Dozens of eyes, sharp with assessment and sharper with envy, locked onto the trio.
Near the quest board, a party of elite adventurers—battle-worn and bedecked in trophies—huddled in a furious whisper.
"—The hells are they? Some exiled nobility?"
"No house breeds that kind of…polish. It's unnatural."
"Are they illusions?Gotta be glamours. No one's skin glows that subtly."
Their leader, a warrior woman with a scar bisecting one eyebrow and a perpetual scowl, narrowed her good eye. Her gaze swept over Sai Ji, then his guards, then back to Sai Ji. Her scowl deepened into a territory of pure, incandescent resentment.
"Pretty boys," she spat, the words dripping with venom. "I hate pretty boys. They're always trouble. Or demons. Or demonic trouble."
Her mage, a nervous man clutching a staff wrapped in too many ribbons, leaned in. "Preemptive strike? While they're disoriented by the… the… general splendor?"
"YES," the warrior woman snapped, slamming a gauntleted fist on the table. "PREEMPTIVE VANITY STRIKE! WE CAN'T LET THE BAR BE RAISED ON DAY ONE!"
Sai Ji, who had been trying to locate the reception desk, froze. That's their casus belli? Aesthetic intimidation?
His bodyguards didn't freeze. Their hands drifted toward hidden weapon hilts. "Master," Lura murmured. "Permission to establish dominance?"
"No."
"Permission to…harshly critique their armor polish?"
"Absolutely not."
Before the jealous elite party could launch their ill-conceived assault, the guild receptionist—a flustered young woman—practically vaulted over her counter, skidding to a halt before Sai Ji with wide, slightly desperate eyes.
"Welcome! Hello! Welcome to the Silvermarch Adventurers' Guild! Please ignore the, ah, ambient hostility! They're all just very… passionate about personal grooming!"
Sai Ji offered a polite, minimal nod. "We'd like to register—"
"WE CHALLENGE!" bellowed the scarred warrior, hefting a brutal-looking axe.
Sai Ji turned. He didn't snarl. He didn't flare his power. He simply looked at her—a calm, flat, utterly unimpressed look. The kind of look a mountain might give a particularly noisy gnat. It was the expression of an entity who had recently made a Disaster-Class dragon bow and now found this posturing… quaint.
A fraction of his contained aura, the barest sliver of the pressure that had flattened a boulevard, leaked. Not a wave, just a sigh.
The air in the guild hall tightened for a single, suffocating second.
The warrior woman's battle cry died in her throat. Her axe felt suddenly three times heavier. The mage behind her made a small, squeaking noise. The entire party took an involuntary step back.
"U-uh," the warrior amended, lowering her weapon. "We challenge you to… a friendly drink! Later! Maybe never!"
"Retiring!"the mage yelped, tossing his staff into a corner. "The adventuring life is not for me!"
Their rogue had already vanished,leaving only a slightly quivering potted plant in his wake.
Sai Ji blinked. Huh. That worked.
Of course, Sal Vera purred. You wear authority like a second skin, even under the glamour. They are mice who have seen the shadow of a hawk.
He sighed and turned back to the deeply confused but relieved receptionist. "Registration?"
"Right! Yes! Please, place your hand on the Guild Classification Crystal. It will assess your latent potential and assign your appropriate rank!"
Finally. A simple, bureaucratic procedure. Something blessedly mundane.
My King, Sal Vera's voice held a hint of warning. The crystal is a system artifact. It may react to what you are, not what you appear—
He placed his palm on the cool, clear crystal.
It glowed a gentle blue.
Then white.
Then an incandescent, solar gold that forced everyone in the hall to shield their eyes.
The crystal began to vibrate, emitting a high-pitched, distressed whine that climbed into ultrasonic registers. The receptionist yelped. Sai Ji tried to pull his hand away, but it was magnetically stuck. Glowing script, far too fast to read, flashed across the crystal's surface like a system having a catastrophic panic attack.
[ERROR: ENTITY PARAMETERS EXCEESSSSZZZZZT—]
[ERROR: RANK MATRIX OVERFLOW—]
[WARNING: CLASSIFICATION PROTOCOLS CORRUPTED—]
[CRITICAL: OBJECT INTEGRITY—]
KRAAAA-BOOOOOM—!!!
The Guild Classification Crystal didn't just break. It ascended to a higher state of being—that state being a cloud of extremely fine, magically-charged glitter. A miniature, silent supernova of sparkles detonated, raining down over the entire hall, coating every surface, every person, and especially Sai Ji, who stood with his hand outstretched, now dusted head-to-toe in radiant, prismatic powder.
A profound, sparkling silence descended.
One of his bodyguards coughed, a puff of glitter erupting from his lips. "Master. You have… outperformed the crystal."
The other nodded solemnly,picking a glittering shard from his hair. "And now you are fabulous."
Sai Ji looked at his glittering hands, then at the horrified receptionist, then at the hundred-plus adventurers now dusted like confused, angry cupcakes. "I… hate this."
"WHO DESTROYED THE CRYSTAL?!"
The Guild Master exploded from his office like a siege weapon—a mountain of a man with a beard that could house a small ecosystem and a face permanently etched with the toll of managing idiots. He thundered to a halt, his furious gaze landing on the epicenter of the glitterfall: Sai Ji.
"…Oh, sweet merciful gods above and below," he breathed, his anger momentarily displaced by awe-turned-dread. He whirled on the receptionist.
"Why in the name of every bankrupt deity did you let a walking divine incident TOUCH the tax-payer-funded artifact?!"
"He said he was level one!" she wailed, pointing an accusing, glittery finger.
Sai Ji offered a weak, sparkling smile. "I… am?"
The Guild Master stared at him as if he'd just claimed to be a sentient turnip. Then he gestured violently toward his office. "You. In here. NOW. Bring your… glittering entourage."
The door slammed shut, muffling the rising tide of incredulous chatter from the hall. The Guild Master leaned on his desk, breathing heavily, examining Sai Ji as one might a bizarre, beautiful, and potentially unstable relic.
"…Kid."
"Yes?"
"Let's skip the nonsense.Disguised prince?"
"No."
"Demigod on a walkabout?"
"Not that I'm aware."
"Ancient dragon in a really good human suit?"
"Slightly warmer,but no."
"Eldritch horror enjoying a vacation?"
"Definitely not."
The Guild Master massaged his temples, leaving streaks of glitter in his beard.
"Then why did a crystal, rated to assess up to Mythic-tier entities, self-destruct upon contact with your… 'level one' essence?"
Sai Ji spread his hands, a shower of sparkles drifting to the floor. "I just want an adventurer card. Something low-key. Bronze. Tin. Unpainted wood. I'm not picky."
"You want to be low rank."
"Yes."
"You."The Guild Master's voice was flat. "Who just turned a major guild asset into party decor."
"It was an accident!"
"An accident that required more latent power than our last three guild champions combined!"He sighed, a sound of profound professional exhaustion, and yanked open a deep drawer. He pulled out a single card, not the usual bronze, silver, or gold, but matte black. He slid it across the desk with two fingers, as if it were mildly toxic.
Sai Ji picked it up. It was cool, heavier than it looked, and utterly blank except for a faint, shimmering silver border.
"What rank is it?"
The Guild Master closed his eyes. "It's Unranked."
A flicker of hope. "Perfect!"
"It is not perfect," the man growled, eyes snapping open. "It means the guild's entire assessment matrix took one look at whatever you are, screamed, and defaulted to the only setting it has for things it cannot, or darenot, quantify. This card is reserved for spectral liches, sealed calamities, and entities the core system itself flags as 'Ambient Apocalypse.'"
Sai Ji's brief hope curdled into dread. "So it says…"
The Guild Master leaned forward, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "It says you are officially, guild-sanctioned, 'Do Not Engage.' It's not a rank. It's a warning label."
Sai Ji slowly lowered his head until his glitter-dusted forehead met the cool, sobering wood of the desk. "I am trying… so very hard… to be normal."
He exited the office, the ominous black card held between two fingers. The elite adventurer party was waiting, having reconstituted their courage. The scarred warrior woman stepped forward, her earlier bravado forced but present.
"You! Pretty boy with the explosive taste in crystals! We—"
Sai Ji didn't say a word. He simply raised the black card, turning it slightly so the guild's magelight caught the silver border. A line of tiny, crimson script flickered to life on its surface, visible to all:
[INTERACTION NOT RECOMMENDED]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: INDETERMINATE / CATASTROPHIC]
The elite party stared. The script flickered again, more insistently:
[SERIOUSLY. DON'T.]
Their collective bravado evaporated. The warrior woman's axe clattered to the floor. As one, they bowed, a jerky, synchronized motion of pure, system-assisted self-preservation.
"Our humblest apologies!"
"We mistook you for a mere mortal!"
"Please enjoy your day! Discreetly!"
"We will be over here!Not existing!"
They scattered, leaving a vacuum of terrified politeness in their wake.
Sai Ji pocketed the card with a deep, soul-weary sigh.
Well, my King, Sal Vera's voice was a warm, teasing ribbon in his mind. You have successfully 'blended in' as only you can.
This is blending? he thought back, despairing.
For a Sovereign? Yes. Remarkably subtle. No one is dead. Only one artifact was destroyed. And you have acquired official documentation confirming that you are, indeed, terrifying. She paused. I call that progress.
His bodyguards, having observed the entire exchange, nodded in solemn agreement.
"A most efficient and low-profile integration, Master," Fen stated.
"Indeed.Last time, you were declared a public nuisance by three city-states before lunch," Lura added helpfully.
Sai Ji looked at the glitter still clinging to his sleeves, felt the weight of the black card in his pocket, and met the still-awed, wary stares of the entire guild hall.
"I hate this world," he muttered, with no real heat left.
No, you don't, Sal Vera whispered, her tone suddenly soft and certain. You're just remembering how exhausting it is to be a king in a world of ants. But even ants need to see the sun.
He didn't answer. He just walked out of the guild, his two devastatingly beautiful shadows at his heels, leaving a trail of faint, sparkling footprints and a legend that was just getting started.
END OF CHAPTER 9