77 Kim Yul

“…….”

Ian studied the woman who had introduced herself as a mage. She met his expressionless gaze without flinching.

Overall, she was a gloomy-looking woman. Her hair was a mess, as if it had never been cared for, and a thick, inerasable dark shadow hung under her eyes. Her skin was clear, but so pale that she looked like a sheet of pure white paper.

At the very least, she wasn't the kind of face that inspired affection. Even so, she didn't feel ugly; objectively, she was closer to a beauty. Most men would probably have their hearts racing just because she spoke to them.

Ian wasn't one of them. Once he realized she was a mage, what he saw in her was less a woman than a mage. Gender was meaningless.

‘Bluffing?’

It was hard to tell a mage from an ordinary person at a glance. Unlike fantasy novel mages, they didn't store mana in their bodies or wear eye-catching outfits like robes or pointed hats. To realize someone was a mage, you had to see them actually use magic.

The same was true for other mages. They didn't have telepathy or some sixth sense for recognizing their own kind. Eyes and ears were all they could rely on.

In that sense, her appearance was closer to an ordinary person's than a mage's. She didn't have a single feature that screamed, "I'm a mage." Maybe she was even impersonating one to gauge his reaction.

“…….”...