"Hey, that name sounds familiar."0

The mercenary's murmured words, spoken with indifference, were abruptly cut off as if sliced by a knife. A deep frown creased his forehead as he stared at Ian.0

"Did you just say, Ian Hope?" His voice, now louder than before, seemed to echo through the room, silencing the lively chatter in an instant.0

Every man and woman in the tavern paused what they were doing and turned to look in their direction. Ian instinctively glanced at them, feeling the weight of their collective gaze.0

Thanks to his heightened senses, he could see almost every face in the room at a glance.0

Not a single familiar face among them.0

At that moment, he felt one side of Lucia’s cloak subtly bulge. She had bent her elbow, likely moving her hand to the handle of the flail strapped to her back. It was not an overreaction; the stares they received were far from welcoming. Distrust, suspicion, and overt hostility shone in the eyes of the onlookers.0

... Ah, right. There must have been some audacious imposters claiming to be me.0

Ian stifled a silent chuckle. It made sense for them to doubt first. This was a world where not only the fairies but countless others lied without hesitation.0

"Yes, Ian Hope," Ian responded calmly. 0

The mercenary’s eyes narrowed further. He scrutinized Ian’s dark eyes as if trying to uncover something before finally speaking.0

"Can you prove it?"0

Lucia, who had been ready to step forward, hesitated. Ian’s left arm subtly stretched out beneath his cloak to hold...0