I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Chapter 37 Ocryphia Guild

Guilds were divided into two main types.

First, there were the affiliated guilds, founded by seasoned Hunters, Exorcists, or a collaboration of both. In Aurion alone, thousands of these guilds existed, with hundreds more in the renowned city of Ocryphia, known as the Capital of the Southern Region of Adrencia. Ocryphia was home to the most powerful, wealthy, and influential figures in the land.

The city boasted elite guilds like the prestigious 7-Star Whiteford Guild and the 6-Star Starlight Guild. However, becoming an official Hunter or Exorcist in these organizations was no easy feat. The competition was fierce, and only the best of the best were recruited.

Membership required not just skill but a near-perfect track record, often with personal recommendations from highly esteemed Hunters or Exorcists.

Naturally, not everyone harbored ambitions to join such elite guilds. Dreams of joining were common, but so was the understanding that these guilds were out of reach for many. Candidates needed to present impeccable resumes that showcased talent, intelligence, strength, adaptability, and a solid education—qualifications far beyond the reach of the average applicant.

For those who couldn't meet these standards, the alternative lay in independent guilds, operated under government oversight. These guilds required no stringent entry criteria; anyone could register as a Hunter. However, to participate in Human Exorcism Quests, applicants needed an official passport verifying their clearance.

For other missions—such as slaying demonic beasts, assisting locals, or recovering rare items or materials—no such credentials were required.

The Guild of Ocryphia, in particular, enjoyed widespread popularity, largely due to its location in one of Aurion's wealthiest cities. People journeyed from distant lands to Ocryphia, aspiring to earn a reputation as a great Hunter in a city renowned for excellence.

Advancing through the ranks in Ocryphia was a unique challenge compared to other regions. To rise here was to gain respect as a truly qualified Hunter, a status that carried prestige far beyond the city's borders.

As usual, the Ocryphia Main Guild was a hive of activity from the very beginning of the day. People from all walks of life filled its halls, navigating the guild's five floors.

Each floor had its own function: the ground floor served as the registration area but was also taking requests mostly from low ranked Hunters, the second floor was dedicated to quests as well, and the third floor was a bustling cafeteria filled with the scent of warm food and fresh coffee.

The fourth floor, exclusive to VIPs, catered to those with special or high-stakes requests, drawing visitors with unique demands. But above all these, atop the guild's towering structure, lay a hidden sixth floor—an office known only to a few. This was the seat of the Guild Master of Ocryphia, a position directly appointed by the government of Aurion and the President of Ocryphia.

Though seldom present due to his numerous duties both in Ocryphia and abroad, today, Ferdinand Ruthern, the Guild Master himself, sat at his desk for a rather unusual reason.

"Your coffee, sir."

One of the guild staff, a young woman in the guild's uniform, set down a steaming cup in front of him. Ferdinand took it with a brief nod, his eyes thoughtful. In his middle years, he had an air of seasoned refinement. His tall, imposing frame and slicked-back brown hair gave him a ruling presence, yet he exuded a sharp intelligence that left no one doubting his capabilities.

With this decision, Ferdinand had already instructed his staff to provide guidance to the newcomer, known only by the name Hubert had provided. It wasn't much, but it was the extent of what he could do—and would do—for his old friend's sake.

The ground floor of the Ocryphia Guild was, as usual, bustling with activity.

On one side, eager new applicants waited for their turn to register in excitation. On the other side, experienced hunters clustered around towering, rectangular panels set into the walls. These digital boards displayed the latest requests, each with a description, rank, and listed reward.

Each request was also tagged with a unique code that hunters would relay to the receptionists when claiming a quest.

The diversity of hunters on the floor was quite visible. There were those adorned in gleaming, finely crafted armor, flaunting wealth through every polished buckle and engraved blade. Others had a distinctly rugged look, their gear battle-worn and functional, telling stories of hard-fought victories far from the city's opulent heart.

These hunters, often from humble beginnings, eyed the wealthy nobles and their entourages with quiet disdain tinged with envy.

The poorer hunters believed they had clawed their way up, earning every rank with sweat and grit, while they sneered at the well-dressed sons of nobility, whom they saw as coddled elites. Nobles, in turn, looked down their noses at the more rugged hunters, privately questioning the Guild's decision to allow them within the prestigious halls of Ocryphia.

Above it all, Ferdinand watched from his office, holding Hubert's letter in hand. He glanced out of the window at the sprawling cityscape of Ocryphia, its towers stretching skyward. Hubert's last words echoed in his mind:

[I dare you to look after him! His name is—]

"Siver King..." Ferdinand murmured, reading the name aloud.

-Thud!

Just then, on the ground floor below, the double doors of the Guild burst open with an almost theatrical flair, crashing back against the walls with a force that drew every eye to the entryway. Conversations hushed, and heads turned.

In the doorway stood a young man. His hair was a striking shade of silver-white, slicked back with precision. A mask, equally silver and exquisitely crafted, covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes exposed. They were a vivid, glowing azure blue, peering out from the mask.

"..."

He paused in the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the crowd as he took in the sea of staring faces. A slight, almost imperceptible smile played at the edges of his hidden lips, visible only in the exhilarated squint of his eyes. With a single step, he strode forward, clearly relishing the sensation of every gaze fixed upon him.