The old man looked at the newly arrived individual; his eyes gazed at him from head to toe as if judging every aspect of his figure.

  "You... What string are you?" He opened his mouth while his eyes furrowed.

  His question gathered the attention of the other members; even they were curious about the person's ability.

  However, the ma his sile was Lindsay who answered the captain's query.

  "Based on his record, he's a sed-strior, and his css is...." she said, but her introdu of him came to a halt as her eyes squinted.

  All of them were now focused on her, waiting for her words.

  'W-what?' She pted; fusion resent on her face.

  "What is it?" The old man asked upon seeing Lindsay's baffled expression.

  The woman was dragged out from her own thoughts upon hearing her captain's voice. She looked at him before diverting his gaze to the young man.

  "He's an appraiser," Lindsay stated.

  "What?!" the old man excimed in disappoi while stifled ughter was heard from the others.

  "An appraiser?" he repeated, mumbling.

  Theurned around and looked at the young man.

  "We're not here to py. Why would an appraiser want this dangerous mission? What are your Firs?" The old man added, fuming in anger.

  But despite his rage, the pyful smile on the young man's face remained. He was about to reply, but Lindsay stepped in all of a sudden, positioning herself iween.

  "There must be a misuanding," she insisted.

  While staring straight into the old man's eyes, she gulped a mouthful of saliva before expining. She flipped the book in her hand and ha to the captain, showing him the young man's record.

  'Efraim Valia,' the old mahe h his eyes.

  'He's indeed an appraiser,' he added in his thoughts, clig his tongue.

  The sed, Lindsay poi the bottom part of the record, the se where the results of previous missions could be seen. As the old man diverted his gaze on that particur segment, his jaw dropped; he even closed and opened his eyes while shaking his head.

  A total of seven ruby rank missions, and all of them were pleted by him alone. From gathering rare materials to eliminating fiend camps in the desote nd, the old man read all of it; he felt fused.

  After all, ruby rank missions were so dangerous that no one was in their right mind to take them alone, especially fiend subjugation. However, it was not the case for the young man in front of him.

  "You. Who are you?" the old man asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  . . . . .

  Severed limbs scattered across the open ground; grass and trees were painted red while the rusty smell of blood lingered in the air.

  "He really is... something that is beyond my prehension," the old man stated as he stared at the appraiser standing in the pile of corpses.

  A while ago, they were on their way to the mission's locatiohe young man came to a sudden halt.

  "What's the matter?" Lindsay asked as she surveyed the area, but the young man didn't reply.

  Instead, he turned around and uhed his bdes. Then a rain of arrows poured down on the group.

  "An ambush! Take cover! Draw your ons!" the old man shouted in a hurry.

  They waited for the barrage of attacks to die down before engaging in the fight. However, the moment they moved back, a se enough to make them gulp transpired before their eyes.

  The appraiser whom they made fun of moments ago destroyed the group of bandits tailing them, dismembering their bodies into several parts in just a fra of time. Lindsay covered her mouth in shock while the others almost threw up due to the hideous sight.

  After the group recovered, they resumed their jourowards their target destination. No one was uttering a single word; only their light footsteps could be heard ihe forest.

  The people walking in front were gng a few times at the back, stealing a glimpse of the man with a casket earring. However, the moment they noticed that he was looking back at them, they averted their gazes, afraid that their eyes would meet.

  Upon notig this, Efraim sighed and lowered his head.

  'Maybe I overdid it,' he pondered.

  At first, he only wao show off his skills to get the group's trust, but they now looked at him with fear. Then, a tap on the shoulder pulled him away from the middle of his thoughts. He turned his head sideways to look for the owner of the hand; it was her than Lindsay.

  "You did well. Thank you for saving us," she said with a smile.

  Afterward, she walked a little faster and caught up with the roup members. Efraim was startled for a moment, but the edges of his lips started to curl upward as he stared at the woman's back.

  Then, ges from his left eye began to occur. Its bck pupil shrank in size, and a hexagram pattern appeared on it. These ges made his eye look like a magic circle.

  The sed, he moved his gaze above everyone's head, and there it was. Numbers ranging from oo one hundred were written, floating on top of their heads; some were written in bck, while two others had a blue color, including the group leader's.

  However, Efraim's focus was not on them; it was on the number sixty-h a golden hue, floating above the bck-haired woman's head.

  Then he looked above the clouds, and memories from a year ago came flooding right through his mind.

  . . . . .

  he borders between the Sunless Cradle and the Oriental Pin. Alongside the river flowing from the mountain ranges, a man woke up from a nightmare.

  The moment he opened his eyes, the brillianing from the ball of light hanging up above the sky was the first oo greet him.

  "Am I still alive?" he asked with an unusual question, his voice barely a whisper.

  But the gushing sound of flowing water and the buzzing of little is were the only replies that he got.

  He tried to move his body and afterwards raised his hand to obstruct the sunlight from his eyes. Theood up and examihe surroundings he was in; however, he felt puzzled as he saw numbers floating everywhere. From the tiny pieces of stones up to the t trees, even the is hiding in the leaves, wherever he looked, he could see numbers at the top of them.

  "What's happening?" he uttered, his brows furrowed in fusion.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and even massaged the temple of his head, but nothing had ged; the moment he opehem, the digits were still there.

  Upon seeing this, he clicked his tongue ao the riverbank; he washed his fad stared at his refle ier.

  It was the same as he remembered; however, there were two peculiar things that didn't fit his appearahey were his left eye and the earring dangling from his right ear.

  "What is this?" He said while examining the blue hexagram pattern inside his iris.

  "A magic circle... Is this the source of those numbers? How is this thing possible?" He blurted several questioe knowing that there was no oo give him an answer.

  The sed, he reached the earring on his right ear. It was a tiny white wooden box that had a design of a bck cross in front.

  "This looks like... a casket," he uttered and gulped a mouthful of saliva.

  'It's simir to that...' he thought as he remembered the se from that night.

  He tried to take it off from his ear, but there was no hook, stud, or wire for it to be unlocked. Given this fact, he reverted his focus onto his eyes.

  "So how does this thing really work?" he asked, curious about the ability he now possessed.

  From this point on, the man studied the numbers; tless nights had passed whe st uood how to deactivate and activate the hexagram on his will.

  Aside from this, he learned what it really meant; it acted as a measuring device to gauge an item's or an individual's capabilities. All of the numbers he had seen were ranging from one up to one hundred, with the tter being the highest.

  Meanwhile, the colors kept his mind puzzled. All that he could see ihe forest was digits written in bd blue. Curious about this, he picked up two ants from a nearby y.

  One of them had a number seve written in bck, while the other one had a blue-colored number forty-seven. Afterward, he pinched and removed both of its antennae ahe two ants fight each other.

  Despite having the same size, the ant with the lesser number overpowered its oppo, giving the man a vague idea.

  "Those who had numbers written in blue are way better than those bes," he uttered.

  Then a strange question came into his mind.

  'Are there any colors aside from blue and bck?' he pondered as he let his eyes roam around the forest.

  . . . . .