The teleportation gate stood right before us, oval-shaped and glowing with a bluish-purple light. Inside it, energy flowed endlessly, like a slow vortex that never settled.
I stood there, watching the others step forward one by one. Inside me was a strange feeling I couldn't quite define. I wasn't exactly afraid, but I wasn't comfortable either. There was a faint tension in my chest—after all, this was my first time experiencing something like this, and I was hesitant, even if only slightly.
When my turn came, I paused for a second, took a deep breath, then stepped forward. The moment I touched the gate, I felt a faint sting run through my body—not painful, but unpleasant.
With the first step inside, everything around me vanished abruptly. A light dizziness washed over me, as if my head had gone empty for a moment.
It didn't last long. After a few seconds, I felt my feet touch the ground again. I took a deep breath without thinking and tried to steady myself. I raised my head and looked around.
A beautiful sight greeted me as soon as my feet settled. Before us stretched majestic rows of mountains—rocky chains rising calmly, as if placed there with care. Their colors shifted between dark gray and light brown, and thin layers of mist covered their peaks, giving them a serene, comforting appearance. The air was clean and refreshing, completely different from what we were used to inside the academy. For a brief moment, I forgot that we were on a mission and focused only on the beauty of the place.
But that calm didn't last long.
I heard someone's voice.
"Welcome."
I stopped staring at the mountains and turned toward the source of the sound. Standing a short distance away was a man who looked to be in his middle years. He wasn't particularly tall or short, but his straight posture gave him a strong presence. His skin was slightly tanned, with faint lines around his eyes—marks of years of fatigue or experience. His dark hair, streaked with light gray, was tied back simply, and his eyes were sharp but not hostile. He wore a dark-colored coat.
He glanced at us briefly, as if assessing each of us, then asked,
"Are you from Amber Academy?"
Before anyone else could answer, Fry stepped forward. He wore his usual calm smile—the one he always used when speaking.
"Yes, we're from Amber Academy. We've come to carry out the mission assigned to us."
The man nodded slowly, as if the answer had been expected. Then he said in a simpler tone,
"Welcome to Irval."
He paused briefly, then added,
"My name is Aern Valdir."
Somehow, the name suited him.
Fry responded immediately, keeping his composed tone.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Aern. My name is Fry Kstar. I'm a second-year student at Amber Academy and the leader of this team."
Aern extended his hand calmly, and Fry shook it. The handshake was brief.
Before he could add anything else, Aern's tone shifted slightly, becoming more formal, as if he suddenly remembered his role.
"We've prepared a bus for you over there."
He gestured to the right. I turned with the others and saw a dirt road stretching between the rocks.
Not far away stood a medium-sized bus, dark in color and practical in appearance.
Aern looked back at us and said in a lighter tone,
"If you're not in a hurry, you can take a short break. We've prepared a suitable place to rest before departure."
For a moment, the idea was tempting. After the teleportation and the lingering dizziness, I really needed to sit down—maybe even drink something cold. But before anyone could respond, Fry stepped forward. His smile this time was different, less formal, as if he were speaking to someone he'd known for a while.
"Thank you for the offer. We truly appreciate it."
He paused briefly, then added calmly,
"But we're in a bit of a hurry right now. Maybe we'll stop here when we return."
Aern let out a light, effortless laugh, stepped closer, and casually patted Fry on the shoulder.
"No problem. You can go now—and come back later."
Watching their conversation from a distance, I couldn't help but genuinely marvel at Fry. How he managed to make anyone he met lower their guard so easily… just as expected from a cunning person like him.
Even though he wasn't numbered within the Atran Organization, he was still an opponent who made the protagonist suffer.
The Atran Organization classified its members in a way unlike any other organization.
They didn't care about who you were before, your rank, or how many missions you had completed.
The only thing that mattered to them… was the number.
And that number wasn't something that could be granted or obtained easily.
There was only one way to earn it: How much demon blood your body could endure… without collapsing.
Not everyone was capable of that.
Demon blood was dangerous by nature, and every additional dose was a true gamble.
If the body couldn't withstand it, it would either collapse completely…
or survive, but at a cost—becoming less human than before.
Because of this, many stopped at a certain limit, unable to progress any further.
Not due to a lack of ambition,
but because their bodies could no longer endure it.
As for the unnumbered, their situation was different.
They carried only a very small amount of demon blood within their bodies—insufficient to grant them a number.
Even so, they were not looked down upon.
The Atran Organization worshipped demons and viewed their blood as a sacred symbol, a means of drawing closer to the Demon King himself.
Because of that, even those who were not given a number were still considered part of this path…
even if they stood at its lowest level.
That's why every time I looked at Fry's smile, I felt my stomach churn.
Then Fry turned his gaze toward us and said, with that calm smile,
"Let's go."
That smile… that particular smile—I hate it.
Damn you… please, stop smiling.
I clenched my fist unconsciously and stepped forward with the others.