SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign-Chapter 140: Official Meeting

They didn’t speak for a moment. City lights outside blurred as he exhaled again.

Finally he said, "So... official question: what’s in it for me?"

She stepped closer, lowered voice. "Resources. Info. Access to A-rank events. Insider clearance in certain drifts. And I’d stop unsolicited visiting. Unless you want that."

Lucen smirked. "That last one is enticing."

They both paused, listening to a bus trundle below. Distant horns. Human life everywhere.

He sighed and said, "Alright. I’ll listen. We can talk about terms."

Her relief was subtle but there.

Gabe nodded. "Tomorrow—eyes only. We can go over the specifics."

Lucen yawned. "Cool. Don’t let me sleep. I’m not that invested."

She gave a half-smile. "Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and she walked to the door. She paused.

Lucen recorded nothing—no system ping, no speech marker. Just two people in a messy apartment talking prime-time world-shaking politics.

She opened the door.

"Good night, Lucen."

He watched her step out. Then he locked the door again. Walked over to the kitchenette. Poured himself a glass of water.

He let the cool liquid run down his throat.

’Welcome to the guild. I guess.’

The apartment was quiet again.

But something heavier than night air had settled in.

One more rumor to keep you up, Lucen thought, staring at the ceiling.

—

That evening, Lucen got called out of bed by a subtle ping.

Nothing flashy. No system alert. Just a notification blinking in the corner:

[Guild Meeting Invite – High Priority]

He shut his eyes and turned over.

Tomorrow was going to suck.

—

Lucen woke to the soft beep of the alarm. Groggy, his vision swam. He rubbed his eyes, hair tangled, sweat from the night’s training still clinging to his shirt. The room smelled like stale mint and old socks, his fault.

By the time he realized someone was at his door, his brain was in neutral. Half-dressed, he padded over and opened it without asking.

There she was. Gabe. Taller in daylight. Her jacket pressed, hair sleek. She held a slim tablet and a paper coffee cup, presumably guild-issue.

"Morning," she said, voice casual. "Ready?"

Lucen blinked. "You kicked down my door. Is that normal?"

She offered a small smile. "No door-kicking. Professional courtesy." She stepped aside. He had to scuff his foot across the floor to close it behind him.

She led him downstairs. The lobby smelled of polished floor soap and economy-grade air freshener, pine. The security guard gave Lucen a quick eye-check but didn’t stop them.

After the door closed behind them, Gabe said, "Coffee? Black or mana-sweet?"

Lucen rubbed his face. "Do you have both?"

"Everything you need." She smiled again: efficient, sharp, genuine.

When they rode the elevator up, Gabe pressed the button and leaned back. "This is the central hub. Top floor. Grew in the last year—need more space."

Lucen looked at the panel. Numbers, guild logos, glyph reads. All official. His brow rose. "So... this is the big leagues?"

"It’s a league." She turned to him. "Not the only league."

He let that drift.

The elevator dinged. Doors opened onto a long hallway: glass doors all along, framed by metal bands etched with subtle glyphs of mana containment.

She paused by a sign: Guild HQ – Strategic Command Floor.

Lucen stared. "Strategic? You’re not just handing out handshakes." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

She chuckled. "Nope. We do classified ops up here. Drift intel. Covert hiring."

He stepped in. The room smelled like fresh tech, wires, coffee, plastic. Screens lined the walls. People moved briskly, chatty but not loud.

A mid-ranking clerk glanced at Lucen, eyebrow twitching; he immediately straightened.

Gabe nodded to one side. "This is briefing." Another zone. Four big screens showing map overlays, drift data, mana heat sensors. Operatives in headsets tapped away.

Lucen let his gaze drift over a screen showing a zone that looked like a shattered forest. "That’s last night’s core?"

Gabe nodded. "We were watching." She tapped a button. One screen zoomed into the snowy drift his core had been in. Lucen stared.

He murmured, "You tracked me?"

"System logs," she said. "Nothing secret. Just... interesting."

He looked at her. "You don’t sound interested."

She smiled, real this time, small. "It’s part of the job."

They moved on.

Next came a lounge area: couches, vending machines, plants. A few rankers talked quietly over lunch. One looked up, blushed when he noticed Lucen. Gabe shot her a look; he quickly looked away.

"Social area," Gabe said. "Low security. Reward zones. A quick nod here goes farther than three guild creds."

Lucen nodded. "Guild creds." He glanced at the still-watching clerk. "That kid thinks I’m... what? Trickster support? Circle bender?"

"More like wildcard," Gabe replied. "Variable. Unpredictable."

He smirked. "That sound good?"

She shrugged. "If you want to stay free. If you don’t... other perks."

Not saying—they both knew the unspoken offers.

She led him deeper through buzzing corridors lined with vault-style doors stamped Safe S-Rank and SS-Rank Access.

They passed a training room, voices echoing clash-sounds. All bare fists and metal strikes. Lucen recognized the rhythm of their drills.

"Mixed martial training," Gabe explained softly. "No spells. We test posture, timing."

Lucen grinned. "Somehow I get the feeling when I left this place they started that."

She returned his smile. "Progress."

They turned into a smaller room with a table and chairs. The centerpiece: a glass case holding a large orb of pulsing mana, the relic of a drift named Aetheris Spiral.

Lucen stopped. Fist clenched slightly. He stared.

Gabe watched him. "Handling it needs SS perms. But when you enter the core, the relic goes there too."

"So this is... the prize?"

"In some cases," she said. "Sometimes it keeps spirits alive."

He nodded slowly. "And it hums."

"It does."

He took a breath. "That was mine and Varik’s last night." His voice dropped. "But not mine, from what I registered."

Gabe paused. "Your contribution was recorded."

Lucen turned to her. "Meaning?"

"Means you’ll be invited to operations before official registration," she said. "Because you’re proving you can survive them."

He nodded. "So you’re inviting me to more, whatever it is."

She didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no. Just let him fill in the space.

They walked again, past a glass window looking into a small arena ring. No crowd now. Just mats. One person doing slow kata movements.

Gabe watched Lucen’s reflection dip with surprise. "Already feel at home?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Then shook his head. "Nope. But it’s interesting."

"Good." She checked her tablet. "Schedule’s next. I have several A-rank guilders wanting an informal meet. You’ll attend. Casual."

He exhaled. "Casual by your standards = interrogation."

"More like orientation."