Before the dwarf looking man could channel his spell, a voice cut through the air like silk through silence.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Murfy."
It was quiet.
But something in it made the air still.
Not loud. Not angry.
Just… certain. Undeniable. Final.
The dwarf froze mid-gesture, flinching like a student caught mid-crime.
From the space where the wall had melted, a figure emerged a man stepping calmly into the ruins of the room, as if none of the destruction applied to him.
He was tall, lean, and moved with an ease far too elegant for his age. His skin was pale, lined with years, but his posture was impossibly straight.
He wore an old-fashioned, ink-black gentleman's suit, its high collar pinned with a silver brooch shaped like an eye. A single cane tapped softly against the ground with every step, its end capped with a dull blue crystal that flickered gently in rhythm with his movements.
From the breast pocket of his coat, a dark, shiny pen glinted in the dim light.
His eyes were soft but deep, a glassy gray like mist over morning snow the kind of gaze that could look through a person, and then through whatever lay behind them.
When he spoke, his voice carried no threat.
Only truth.
"Do you even know what he is yet?"
The air thickened. The tension shifted.
No challenge in his words. Just a quiet change, as if the floor had tilted ever so slightly.
Down on the ground, Maximus barely registered the exchange. He was still reeling.
One moment, the wall had exploded half of it splintering, the rest melting like wax under some unseen force. And now, three men had entered the ruins as if none of it applied to them.
Was that magic?
His breath was ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears. The chaos, the sudden shift in power it should have terrified him.
But more than anything else… he felt curious.
His wide eyes flickered to the dwarf's wand, still glowing faintly. He replayed the sound of the wall crumbling, the sharp, unnatural way it had melted like a candle.
Shouldn't he be running? Fighting? Doing anything other than staring in silent awe?
The silence stretched.
Then, the tall man the one who had spoken first took a step forward. His lips barely moved, but his voice dropped like a dagger.
"Blood of a traitor."
Murfy exhaled beside him, his wand twitching. He muttered darkly under his breath. "Of course."
A grim acceptance, as if something inevitable had just been confirmed.
But Maximus couldn't process it.
Blood of a traitor?
The words struck him harder than the splinters in his back. A pang bloomed in his chest, sharp and unexplainable. Why did that hurt more than anything else?
Before he could gather his thoughts, the old man tapped his cane lightly against the ground. His gaze turned to the robed man who had spoken, his expression one of mild amusement.
He tilted his head, a faint smile playing at his lips.
Is that so?
"I do not think everyone in your bloodline was all good and noble," he mused, tapping his cane once more. "Should I punish you for the crimes of what your ancestors may or may not have done?"
His voice remained light, almost teasing.
"Shall we check the family tree of the Viltrage line, Mr. Famblo?"
The old man didn't say much more.
He only smiled.
Famblo the tall, brooding man fell into silence, his gaze locked onto the old man. A storm brewed in his chest. He wanted to do something, anything… but what could he do? This wasn't just some frail elder. This old man was a living monster. If he so wished, Famblo wouldn't even have time to scream before being reduced to pure magical particles erased without a trace.
"Are you seriously trying to protect this traitorous blood?" the dwarf-like man growled, voice simmering with fury barely held in check. Though his words carried rage, there was still a heavy dose of respect woven in fear, maybe.
"Protecting?" The old man's eyes glimmered with quiet amusement. "Yes. I am."
"Are you trying to be a traitor too then, Headmaster"
Famblo didn't even know where the courage to say those words came from. They escaped his lips before his mind caught up. As soon as they left his mouth, his eyes widened in terror. His hand shot up to cover it, panic rising. Cold sweat trickled down his back as the weight of what he'd just said slammed into him.
The dwarf-like man and the silent figure beside him both slowly turned their heads toward Famblo, their faces hidden under the shadows of thick robes. Still, their stunned disbelief was almost tangible.
The old man chuckled, light-hearted as if the entire conversation were some twisted joke.
"A good question. But tell me when did trying to save the lives of you three make me a traitor?" he asked, a sly grin creeping up on his wrinkled face. "You should be thanking me." A dry laugh escaped him, and for a second, a single tear threatened to form. He wiped it away with a casual stroke of his index finger.
"Save… us?" Famblo echoed, uncertain.
Then it hit them. That voice. The one they had heard before. As the realization slammed into them like a tidal wave, all three stiffened jolted back by instinct. A single step back, but it screamed volumes.
They weren't fools. Not children. They understood the weight behind the old man's cryptic words he never spoke plainly unless he meant something deadly serious.
"Even if the magic was cast by me," the old man said with a small chuckle, "I don't believe Professor Endeved will stay restrained for long."
"Prof... Pr… Professor Endeved?!" The name dropped like a bomb, and their knees nearly buckled from fear.
The old man laughed again, soft and eerie, clearly enjoying their reaction.
"I shall take my leave, Headmaster Fledrock. Good morning," the previously silent man finally spoke, his voice low and heavy like it carried centuries of burden.
"Lumivox."
He flicked his wand under his robe with a small, graceful motion.
Wickkk!
A ripple tore through the air. Reality twisted, a void of swirling black space opened behind him, and before anyone could blink, the man in black was pulled into it vanishing like smoke in the wind.
"Good morning, Headmaster Fledrock," Famblo and the dwarf-like man said in unison, watching the void fade.
"Lumivox." They, too, flicked their wands simultaneously and vanished without a sound.
Silence.
Thick, unshakable silence swallowed the room.
Then
Click.
The old man tapped his cane dark wood against older wood. A sound so small, yet it echoed with ominous finality.
"You did well, stopping me, Headmaster. Otherwise…" A voice came, smooth as silk but cold enough to chill blood.
"...I may have been forced to prepare for another war."
The old man's face twitched. He turned, eyes narrowing, the words another war lingering in the air like poison.
From behind the ruined wall, a man stepped into the room his entrance silent but the tremors of his steps shook the floor, as though the wood itself feared him.
"War is never the answer, Professor Endeved," the old man said, forcing a calm smile. "Times have changed. Perhaps it's your thinking that needs to—"
The man now standing besides him looked deceptively fragile. Thin, short green hair clinging to a head that seemed too light for the rage it carried. His sharp, elvish ears poked out from under the tousled mess, and his loose blue clothes hung off him like afterthoughts he clearly didn't care about appearances.
But his eyes.
Those dark green eyes burned with intensity, changing the air itself around him. His entire aura shifted. And despite his fragile frame, he exuded danger an overwhelming sense of power held just barely in check.
The man stepped into the room but not once did his eyes drift to the old man. Instead, his gaze locked straight onto the ground... where Maximus now lay.
His mother lay fully sprawled on the floor beneath him, trembling uncontrollably, one hand pressed tightly over her mouth as if to hold back a scream that no longer had the strength to escape. Her eyes brimmed with tears, the kind that came from a fear so raw, it paralyzed the soul. She didn't understand what had just happened, couldn't begin to make sense of the scene but one thing was clear:
These people… they didn't draw magic circles, didn't prayed for magic. They just did it. Instantly. Power like that wasn't normal. It wasn't human.
They were something else. Something far above. Something terrifying.
To her, they weren't men. They were monsters. Gods. Or spirits. And she ..she was nothing. Just an insect.
She had already accepted the end. Her glassy eyes, still locked onto Maximus' face hovering just above hers, stared up through a blur of tears. She wanted to see him more clearly just one last time. But the tears wouldn't stop.
Maximus, feeling the quaking body beneath him, finally looked down and what he saw crushed him.
His mother. Crying. Hiding her face. Her expression pale, stricken with terror, every drop of color drained from her skin. The sight shattered something inside him. Whatever childish curiosity he'd once had for magic, for adventure it all vanished in that instant.
Reality slammed into him like a wave.
Even the pain in his back, from the wooden shards embedded in his flesh, suddenly surged to life. He let out a soft, painful grunt, flinching slightly as sensation returned with brutal clarity.
He didn't know what to say to his mother. There were no words none that could calm her, none that could ease her trembling sobs. He couldn't speak. He didn't even try. Instead, he just turned his head.
His eyes drifted upward toward the men standing above them, silent and imposing, gazing down like statues carved from judgment itself.
A storm of questions raged in his mind: Why are you here? Who are you? What do you want from us? Why now? But none of those made it past his lips.
Instead, his mouth parted, trembling, as raw emotion flooded through him. His right eye red, glowing faintly with a crimson hue glimmered like a gem under pressure, overwhelmed by the moment.
"If she cries for one more moment… I'll kill you. Begone."
The words slipped from his mouth before he could even understand them. His voice sounded alien deeper, colder, with a force that didn't belong to him. He didn't know where the threat came from or why it felt so natural. It wasn't something he chose to say.
It just... came out. Instinctively. Like his body had rejected the urge to beg, smothered it, and something else rose up in its place. Something darker. Older. Not even he understood it.
And that was the strangest part even he couldn't grasp what was happening. As if something buried deep inside had decided to act without him.
Even Maximus didn't understand what had just happened. No one did.
The old man and Professor Endeved remained silent, gazes fixed on the boy curled protectively around his mother on the floor.
They didn't flinch. Didn't respond to the threat.
They simply looked into his eyes.
That strange, impossible pair of eyes.
One, a piercing blue calm and warm.
The other, glowing faintly with a crimson hue like living flame, trembling with raw emotion. They sparkled like rubies under moonlight.
Endeved's gaze lingered. He studied the boy's bloodied face, the wooden shards protruding from his back, the slow trickle of red along his jaw. And then he closed his eyes. As if confirming something he didn't want to admit.
"...So it's true," the old man said quietly beside him, his voice tired as he shook his head with a long, weary sigh.
Suddenly, inside Maximus's mind
DING!
Emotional Surge Detected: SHOCK
+100 Magic Power Gained.
Congratulations! You have received: [Gold Chest]
DING!
Emotional Overload Detected:
Extreme Sadness | Guilt | Relief | Confusion | Anger | Fear | Nostalgia | Happiness | Shame... and more.
Warning: Emotional Response Levels... Off the Charts.
+1000 Mana Points Granted.
Congratulations, Host! You have unlocked: [Diamond Chest]
Reward Incoming…
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