The administrative office of the sixth region smelled of damp paper, the afternoon light barely cutting through the dirty window panes. Three clerks sat around a rusted brazier in the center of the room, their loud laughter filling the damp space.

A fat guard tossed a crumpled parchment onto the cluttered desk, his yellow teeth showing as he leaned against the wall, "have you heard the news from the capital?"

One of the clerks looked up from his watered-down ale, his fingers stained dark with ink, "some new regional lord is arriving today, right?"

The guard snorted, spitting onto the floor before he shook his head in amusement, "some kid from the capital, they say he is barely twenty years old."

The other clerks joined in the snickering, the prospect of a young ruler bringing a rare moment of genuine joy to their miserable afternoon.

A thin clerk with greasy hair chuckled, scratching a rash on his neck, "the local houses will eat him alive before the week is even over."

"They will skin him and split his budget before he even unpacks his carriage," the guard laughed, slapping his thigh in delight.

In the far corner of the room, Merrick sat quietly at a small table, his pen scratching rhythmically against a thick registry book. His cheap coat was worn thin at the elbows, but he did not look up from his work to join the conversation.

The fat guard noticed his silence, marching over to kick the leg of his table, "what is the matter, scribe, do you think this kid stands a chance?"

Merrick paused his writing, his tired eyes looking up at the guard before he answered in a flat, even tone, "it does not matter what I think."

He dipped his pen in ink, resuming his careful records of the town’s actual assets, "but if he cleared a Beast King gate, he is not helpless."

The guard barked with laughter, waving a hand dismissively as he walked back to the warm brazier, "clearing monsters is different from dealing with tax fraud."

The greasy-haired clerk leaned back in his chair, staring up at the peeling ceiling with a sigh, "if only those fools could kill the guardian beast, we could finally mine the gold mountain."

"That beast has been there for decades," the fat clerk grunted, "even the Great Families cannot touch it without cooperating, which they will never do."

The guard spit into the brazier, the hiss of the liquid rising above the low crackle of the flames, "so we are stuck in this plague-ridden dump forever."

Merrick listened to their complaints in silence, his pen moving steadily across the parchment while he thought about the reality of the region. The gold was a myth, but the sickness spreading through the districts was very real.

The rough front door creaked open, admitting a blast of cold wind along with a shivering old woman wrapped in a thin shawl. She held a pale child close to her chest, her hands trembling as she approached the main counter.

The fat clerk groaned, not even bothering to look up from his ledger as he waved her away, "what do you want, old woman?"

The woman coughed, her voice cracking as she pointed to the sickly child in her arms, "my grandson has the regional fever, we need medicine from the clinic."

"There is no medicine," he barked, "Lord Garrow ordered the clinic closed until the local taxes are paid in full."

She stared in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes as she took a step backward, "but we have no coin, the gray soil grows nothing."

The guard stood up, his face turning cold as he walked toward the door, "get out of here before I toss you into the gutter."

Merrick watched them, his heart tightening with frustration while he reached into his coat pocket to pull out a single copper coin.

He walked quietly toward the old woman, handing her the coin before the guard could notice, "take this and buy some tea at the market."

The guard turned around, his eyes locking on Merrick with a sneer as he stepped between them, "what do you think you are doing, scribe?"

Merrick did not back down, his voice remaining flat as he met the guard’s hostile gaze, "I am simply keeping the peace."

The guard scoffed, snatching the coin from the woman’s hand before he pushed her out the door into the street. He turned back to Merrick, pocketing the copper with a smirk, "no charity in this town, scribe, you should know that by now."

Merrick returned to his corner in silence, his fingers clenching around his pen while he resumed his registry entries. This place was a prison of corruption, and the news of a new lord from the capital changed nothing.

The greasy-haired clerk suddenly called out from the window, his voice turning sharp, "the carriage is here!"

The other clerks and the guards crowded around the dusty pane, their laughter dying down as they saw the luxury carriage roll into the square. It was completely out of place in this town, its polished lacquer reflecting the dull afternoon light of the gray sky.

"Let’s go greet our new ruler," the fat guard laughed, gesturing to the others, "time to collect the regional transition tax."

Three corrupt guards walked out the front door, their hands resting on their weapons as they approached the stopped carriage.

Hajin stepped down from the vehicle, his white coat catching the dusty wind while he looked at the derelict administrative building. Loccy hopped out right after him, her ears twitching as she took in the scent of the barren town with a wrinkled nose.

Jonas and the rest of the group followed, their relaxed postures failing to hide the alert focus in their eyes.

The guard leader stepped forward, his dirty uniform loose at the shoulders as he spit near Hajin’s boots, "welcome to the sixth region, kid."

"There is a regional entrance tax of ten gold coins," he added, "pay up and we will let your carriage pass."

Hajin did not even blink, his voice cold and flat as he locked eyes with the speaker, "show me the written law for this tax."

The guard laughed, gesturing to the other guards who were now chuckling behind him, "the law is whatever we say it is around here."

Hajin narrowed his eyes, a silent wave of golden and blue mana rippling outward from his body to crack the ground. The arrogant smiles on the guards’ faces instantly froze as the sheer weight of his presence pressed them to their knees.

He looked down at the kneeling guard leader, his voice carrying clearly across the square, "I am Lord Hajin, the new ruler of this region."

"I suggest you learn the actual laws before you try to extort my carriage again," he added, his tone cold.

Inside the registry, the three corrupt clerks had already stopped laughing, their faces turning pale as they felt the immense aura filtering through the walls.

They cowered behind their cluttered desks, shivering in terror while the gold and blue light seeped under the door.

Merrick sat frozen at his corner table, staring through the window panes at the white-haired youth standing in the square.

His chest tightened, his heartbeat quickening under the crushing weight of the stranger’s power.

"Is that... divine power?" He whispered, his eyes locked on the boy.