The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridors like a war drum. No one dared to contradict him. No one dared to confront him.
Seth stood there, motionless, surrounded by corpses and terror. The air was thick as concrete—saturated with mana, blood, and menace.
Five minutes. That was all he had granted. And even that was generous.
The agents didn't know what to do. Some kept their weapons pointed, more out of instinct than courage. Others just stared, as if still trying to process what they saw before their eyes. What he was.
Time passed. Slowly. Suffocatingly.
And then she arrived.
The door opened without fanfare—as if the building itself recognized the authority of the person entering. She was not escorted by guards. She was not accompanied by subordinates. She entered alone.
Mirelle Vasqen. Supreme Leader of the Hunters' Association.
Tall, elegant, with silver hair falling over her shoulders and gray eyes that seemed to see through the soul. Her every step was a manifestation of silent power.
Seth stared at her. He didn't move a muscle.
She walked past the agents, the bodies, the blood—without a word. She stopped a few feet away from him. She looked around, assessing the scene as if she were observing a work of art. A work made of flesh and fury.
Then, finally, she spoke:
"Who authorized this?" Her voice was cold as ice and sharp as a blade.
The agents hesitated. One tried to say something, but his words died before they formed sound.
Mirelle looked at the Auditor's torn body.
"That was the Primary Class Evaluator of the Continental Section. He answered only to the Central Council." She turned her gaze back to Seth. "And you destroyed him completely."
Seth shrugged, indifferent.
"Should I be sad? He tried to invade my soul with an identity suppression spell. Want to argue with me?" He spoke... it was true... after all...
[Central Mission is underway. Make yourself Superior to the Inferiors.]
She raised an eyebrow. "You're right. And that worries me even more. Because if you noticed... it means they knew exactly what they were trying to do."
A heavy silence fell again. She turned briefly to the agents behind her. "Everyone. Out. Now."
They obeyed without question.
When the door finally closed, only she, Seth... and Bastet's shadow looming behind him like a snake about to strike remained.
"She's dangerous," Bastet whispered in his mind. "But not a liar."
Seth didn't respond. He just waited.
She sighed and walked over to a nearby table, wiping the bloody surface clean with a magical gesture. She sat down as if she were in the most luxurious meeting room in the Central Tower.
"They tried to preempt my summons," Mirelle said bluntly. "Some members of the Council didn't want me to recruit you. You are a prime suspect, after all. They probably saw the note I left in your name... my bad."
"Note. What a great note," Seth replied dryly, as if savoring the venom contained in the words.
She smiled—briefly, but genuinely.
"I can't deny it. It's partly my fault. But also... your track record doesn't help." She crossed her legs, her posture as casual as it was calculated. "Connie Parker. Vixen Rose. Kaguya Blanc. The Succubus Hunter. Doctor Seo Ha-rin. You've had contact with five Rank-S in less than three months. Not to mention the report of an invasion through an unstable portal."
She shot him a sharp glance, like a blade measuring its enemy before striking.
"Invasion? I'm sure that—" Seth began, but was cut off.
"We have witnesses. And the helpless little girl... Eliza. She confirmed it." Mirelle said coldly, as if spitting lead.
An uncomfortable silence settled in. Bastet purred softly inside Seth's mind, assessing Mirelle like a panther stalking its prey.
Then she softened her tone.
"But... trust me. Everything is under control."
Seth frowned, incredulous.
"Then tell me, Mirelle Vasqen. Why, exactly, should I trust you?" he asked, crossing his arms with a look that could pierce steel.
Mirelle's smile faded like a blade dipped in boiling water. In its place, an ancient coldness emerged.
A low, almost imperceptible sound reverberated in the air, like the muffled rumble of distant thunder.
And then, Mirelle's aura leaked out.
Like a storm trapped for too long behind a fragile dam, energy subtly exploded from the edges of her body—sparks of golden and scarlet mana danced around her, distorting the air, bending the light. Mirelle's eyes flashed with fierce intensity, casting beams of light as if probing every corner of the room, every shadow.
When she spoke, her voice was not just sound. It was command.
"I don't have time to play with a child."
The floor vibrated beneath her feet. The walls responded with subtle cracks, as if the very foundations of the room were about to give way.
But Seth... did not bow.
His shadow rippled, alive. Bastet stirred like a trapped beast about to devour its cage. And then, lightning began to leak from Seth's body. First a faint crackle, then another—until an electric arc shot through the air and struck the ceiling with a deafening crack.
The energy was white and blue, dense as condensed smoke, pure and uncontrolled like a star about to explode.
Seth took a step forward. The tension in the room exploded like a powder keg about to collapse.
"And I don't have time for small talk."
A second bolt of lightning streaked across the floor, opening a tiny crack in the enchanted slab.
The silence lasted for an entire heartbeat—heavy, full of destructive possibilities.
Then Mirelle took a deep breath, subtly retreating her aura, not as one who surrenders, but as one who recognizes a dangerous parity.
"Hmph..." She narrowed her eyes. "Then let's stop wasting time."
Mirelle was silent for a moment. Her eyes still glowed ruby-gold, but the storm behind them receded, tamed by cold reasoning.
She let out a short sigh, pulling a small arcane crystal device from inside her overcoat—the kind used only by members of the High Council. With a swift gesture, she activated it.
"Seth Chambers, by authority of the Continental Hunters Association, your provisional license as Rank-S is... officially approved," she said, as the crystal flashed with the purple color of formal records.
Seth did not respond immediately. Only the distant sound of the crystal sealing the authorization echoed, like the closing of a trial.
But then Mirelle spoke again, this time with less firmness and more... reality.
"Unfortunately, I'll have to report this." She put the crystal away. "Which means your approval will be public in a few hours."
She stared at him, serious.
"The big guilds will come after you like hungry dogs. All of them. Some will offer you millions. Others... will hunt you down, just because they see you as an ownerless threat."
Seth crossed his arms, the electricity still crackling slowly beneath his skin.
"And you expected me to be what? One of the dogs?"
Mirelle didn't smile this time. But she didn't seem offended either. Just... resigned.
"I wanted you to work with us, yes," she confessed. "At the Association. It would be useful to have someone like you here. Controlled. Monitored."
A brief silence.
"But I understand that's not going to happen."
Seth tilted his head slightly.
"Common sense suits you well, Vasqen."
She laughed softly. But the sound was bitter.
"You're going to be a problem, Seth. For all of us."
"As long as it's a problem for the right people..." he replied, turning slowly, his golden eyes still burning. "I don't mind."
Mirelle watched as he walked away. Bastet glided into the shadows behind him like a satisfied panther. The tension dissipated, but the threat remained—now recorded in the annals of the Association.
Seth Chambers was Rank-S.