The journey to Salimoor took eight days.

Rey—maintaining his Eru persona with practiced ease—spent the time learning more about Aether society through casual conversations with Kaela and Jaren. They were remarkably forthcoming, their gratitude making them eager to help their "savior" understand the world he’d supposedly been isolated from.

"The Guild system is universal across Aether territories," Kaela explained as they walked along well-maintained roads that contrasted sharply with the Labyrinth’s twisted passages. "Every major city has at least one Guild, and they’re all interconnected through administrative networks maintained by Angel oversight."

"What determines Guild ranking?" Eru asked, his tone suggesting academic interest rather than strategic intelligence gathering.

"Individual capability primarily," Jaren replied. "They test your Ether Core capacity, technique proficiency, combat ability, and trustworthiness. The ranks go from Bronze to Silver to Gold to Platinum, with special designations for exceptional individuals."

Rey filed the information away systematically. Ranking systems meant hierarchies he could climb, resources he could access, and positions he could exploit.

"What about Nephilim?" Eru asked carefully. "Are there restrictions or special requirements?"

Kaela’s expression shifted to sympathy. "Officially, no. The Five Ancient Holy Gods teach that all who follow their light deserve opportunity regardless of heritage. But..." she hesitated.

"But practically, there’s prejudice," Jaren finished bluntly. "Most Nephilim get assigned to lower-risk missions, face more scrutiny during examinations, and have to work twice as hard to achieve the same recognition as pure Aether bloodlines."

"However," Kaela added quickly, "if you demonstrate clear divine favor—like your Spirit Art capabilities—most of that prejudice disappears. Exceptional skill is interpreted as blessing from the Gods, which overrides heritage concerns."

’A perfect framework for exploitation.’ Rey smiled at all of this.

Naturally, he knew most of this information already due to his intentional research beforehand.

Still, it made sense hearing it again.

With his persona as a outskirt dweller, they would also see nothing too strange about his ignorance in certain aspects.

Rey could demonstrate controlled capability, claim divine blessing through natural talent, and use religious interpretation to bypass social barriers that might otherwise complicate his integration.

"I appreciate the warning," Eru said with apparent gratitude. "I’ll make sure to perform well during the examination."

***

Salimoor appeared on the horizon on the eighth day—a proper city with stone walls, organized districts, and population that Rey estimated at fifty thousand based on the visible architecture.

Guards at the gate wore ceremonial armor that still managed to suggest functional combat capability. They checked documentation with professional thoroughness, their eyes lingering on Eru’s Nephilim features before Kaela intervened.

"He’s with us," she stated firmly. "Saved our lives in the Dungeon of Malice. We’re vouching for him with the Silverlight Guild."

The guards’ expressions shifted from suspicion to interest. "Survivors from the Malice expedition?" one asked. "We heard there were casualties. How many made it back?"

"Two of us," Jaren said quietly. "The rest... didn’t make it."

The guards’ professionalism softened into genuine sympathy. "Our condolences. The Guild will want your full report. Proceed."

They entered the city, and Rey immediately began cataloguing details.

Street layouts suggested defensive planning, with main thoroughfares designed for rapid troop movement. Buildings showed a mixture of residential, commercial, and administrative purposes. And everywhere—

Angels.

Not many, but their presence was unmistakable. Beings with luminous features and wings that radiated divine authority, moving through crowds that parted respectfully around them.

’Why are they here? In the Land of Nether, the sight of a single Devil is rare. Could it be that this is actually an important area? Or maybe there are simply more Angels than Devils?’

He speculated on this matter quietly.

’Maybe they’re searching for me...’

Rey kept his mystical signature carefully controlled, ensuring the Prince of Darkness remained completely undetectable within his soul.

Angels possessed capabilities that might sense anomalies normal practitioners would miss, and revealing his true nature would be catastrophic.

But none of them showed particular interest in the three Searchers making their way through the city streets.

’Good...’

The Silverlight Guild occupied a massive building in the commercial district—three stories of reinforced stone with architectural flourishes that suggested both wealth and military function.

People streamed in and out constantly, Searchers returning from expeditions or departing for new ones.

Inside, the main hall buzzed with activity.

Mission boards covered one wall, administrative desks lined another, and training facilities were visible through archways leading to interior courtyards.

Kaela approached the reception desk with confidence born from familiarity. "We need to report expedition results and register a new member."

The receptionist—a middle-aged woman with efficient demeanor—looked up from her paperwork. "Names and mission identification?"

"Kaela Vrost and Jaren Mills, Dungeon of Malice expedition DM-447. We’re also requesting emergency meeting with Guild Master Theron regarding... complications."

The receptionist’s expression sharpened.

"Complications?"

"Ten deaths," Jaren said quietly. "Unexpected entity behavior. We barely survived."

The woman’s professionalism kicked in immediately. "Understood. I’ll arrange priority debriefing. Who’s the registration candidate?"

"This is Eru," Kaela gestured toward Rey. "He saved our lives in the dungeon. Demonstrated Mid-Sequence Spirit Art capabilities. We’re recommending expedited examinations."

The receptionist studied Eru with appraising eyes that noted his Nephilim features but didn’t show obvious prejudice. "Mid-Sequence at your age? That’s... noteworthy. Do you have any documentation?"

"I’ve been working independently in border regions. My records are incomplete." Rey produced the papers he’d taken from the dead Searcher—modified carefully to match his new identity.

"Common enough for solo operators," the receptionist acknowledged, examining the documents. "We’ll need to conduct full verification regardless. Are you prepared for an immediate examination?"

"Yes," Eru replied simply.

"Excellent. Kaela, Jaren—report to Conference Room Three for your debriefing. Eru, follow the blue line to Examination Hall Two. Someone will guide you through the process."

***

The examination facility was separate from the main Guild building—a dedicated structure designed specifically for testing applicants.

Rey followed the indicated path, his enhanced perception noting security measures and mystical wards that would detect hostile intent or deception.

’Interesting...’

He’d need to be extremely careful during the verification process.

"Welcome to Silverlight Guild examination. I’m Proctor Aldric. I’ll be overseeing your verification today." A young administrator met him at the entrance—male, early twenties, professional demeanor.

"Thank you for accommodating me," Eru replied with appropriate deference.