With a single touch, Maxwell extinguished the flames that had been moments away from consuming Top's arms. Top stared in disbelief—just seconds ago, he was certain he would die. Now, he was being saved by the very mage he admired, a man wielding powers beyond anything he had imagined.
Maxwell exhaled, his expression heavy with regret. I'm sorry, he signed. I couldn't save your grandfather… but I promise, he will receive the justice he deserves.
As his eyes drifted downward, he noticed a fading magical symbol on Top's arm—the exact spot where the fire had erupted. A realization clicked into place.
"So that's your magic, Cevic," Maxwell deduced, his voice steady. "You create magical marks through touch… which means you can ignite anything you've marked at will." His gaze lifted to the smirking mage. "That's how you forced the chief to cooperate, isn't it? You took Top as a hostage. The chief had no choice but to play along, knowing that, at any moment, you could set his grandson ablaze."
Cevic chuckled, amused by Maxwell's accuracy. "Sharp for a level 1 mage." His smirk deepened as he folded his arms. "But honestly, did Arthur send his weakest after my party? One level 1 mage against four of us? I'm almost insulted."
Then his amusement wavered. A creeping thought gnawed at him.
'Wait… did he just cancel my magic?' His eyes narrowed. 'A level 1 shouldn't be able to do that. If negating spells is his specialty, then that would explain why Arthur Pendragon keeps him around…'
Cevic wasn't about to take any chances. He whistled sharply, and from the shadows, armed bandits emerged, their blades gleaming in the dim light as they encircled Maxwell.
"Let's see you cancel steel when it's buried in your gut," Cevic sneered.
But Maxwell barely acknowledged him. His eyes scanned the environment and bystanders homes, concern flickering across his face.
Meanwhile, just outside the town, Fay's sudden alarm of maxwell disappearance sent a ripple of tension through the rest of the party.
"That idiot," Arthur growled. "Does he think he's some kind of hero? He can't even save himself—he's only going to get himself killed." Without hesitation, he and the others sprinted toward the town.
Back at the scene, Maxwell spoke, his voice calm but firm.
"Cevic… let's take this fight somewhere else. I don't want anyone getting caught in the crossfire."
For a moment, Cevic just stared, caught off guard by Maxwell's audacity. Then he scoffed.
"Are you serious? I don't give a damn about these townsfolk. And fighting a level 1 like you? It'd be over in an instant. There won't be any destruction—just a quick, clean kill. So no, I'm not going anywhere."
Maxwell sighed. "That's fine… I wasn't really asking."
Without another word, he slung his staff onto his back. Then, in one swift motion, he clenched his left hand and shattered all five fingers.
"Forbidden Arts: Number One. I offer five broken bones… Spatial Warp."
The air trembled. Space itself twisted and bent as reality unravelled around them.
In a blink, Maxwell, the Elementals, and the bandits vanished—leaving only Top, still kneeling on the ground, staring at the empty space where they had once stood.
The Outcasts returned to Heaven's Peak the moment the spatial warp was activated, arriving to find only a dazed Top. Confusion spread among them as they scanned the empty streets, searching for any sign of Maxwell.
It was Fay who noticed it first—the lingering distortion in space around Top. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she studied the anomaly, feeling the residual energy left behind.
"This isn't Void," she muttered, half to herself, half to the others. "The distortion is different… less chaotic, more controlled." She hesitated before adding, "But it's definitely forbidden magic."
Arthur's mind raced. A single name surfaced in his thoughts—the adventurer who had once defeated Tadesse.
"Could it be…?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Was the adventurer here? The one who surpassed all others?"
Driven by urgency, he turned to the townspeople, desperate for an answer. "Did anyone see the adventurer's face?"
Silence.
The doors and windows remained shut. The villagers had hidden away, too terrified to witness what had transpired. Arthur clenched his jaw, realizing that his best hope for answers now lay with Top.
But even as he questioned him, Top remained unresponsive, still trapped in shock.
While the others were caught up in speculation, Hana stayed focused on the task at hand. Without a word, she broke away from the group and began searching the town, determined to find any trace of Maxwell.
Meanwhile, Fay's mind churned with a different thought. If the adventurer really did use Spatial Warp… where did they go?
The Elementals found themselves warped deep into the forest outside the town. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves. But something was off—something Cevic and his party had yet to notice.
The bandits were gone.
Still reeling from shock, Cevic's gaze snapped to Maxwell.
"Spatial Warp? That's forbidden magic," he growled. "A level 1 mage shouldn't have enough mana to even request the deal, let alone complete one… Who the hell are you?"
Maxwell's expression remained unreadable. "You can see my mana pool, can't you?" His voice was cold, devoid of amusement. "I'm nothing but a lowly level 1." His eyes hardened. "But enough about me. What I want to know is—how did you throw your code away so easily? What drove you to oppress the very people who asked for your help?"
Cevic glanced at Maxwell's mana pool. It confirmed what he already knew—Maxwell was still just a level 1. He must have used up whatever tricks he had left. There's no way he can break his other hand and pull off another forbidden spell. A smug confidence returned to Cevic as he decided to indulge in his own brilliance.
"We took this quest six months ago," he began, smirking. "At first, we thought it was just some low-paying job—clean up some bandits, get paid, move on. But after we caught the bandits, curiosity got the better of us. We asked ourselves, why were these bandits so interested in this town?" He chuckled. "And then we found out. This little old town is sitting on a gold mine. The kind that makes a million coins look like pocket change."
He spread his arms dramatically. "So I came up with a plan. We let the bandits go—on one condition. They'd attack whenever adventurers passed through, making sure no one suspected us. Meanwhile, we took control of the town, forcing the villagers to mint gold for us… for the rest of our lives."
Cevic's grin widened as he studied Maxwell's expression, searching for a reaction, for anger, for anything. "Tell me, level 1 mage… does my story fill you with rage?"
Nothing.
Maxwell's face remained unreadable, his gaze empty.
Then Cevic's smirk faltered. Something was wrong. His eyes darted around, his stomach twisting with unease.
"Wait… Where are the bandits?"
Maxwell exhaled softly, almost bored. "Took you long enough to notice," he muttered. Then, he tilted his head, his voice calm. "Don't worry. They're not far. In fact… they should be dropping in right about… now."
A sickening splat echoed through the trees.
Cevic's blood ran cold as bodies—what was left of the bandits—began raining from the sky, crashing into the ground in grotesque, lifeless heaps. Pools of blood spread beneath them.
Maxwell barely blinked. "I altered their location a bit," he said flatly. "Gave them a little sightseeing tour up in the sky."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The Elementals stepped back, their confidence eroding as terror took its place.
Maxwell took a slow step forward. "You see, I've always admired those noble protagonists. The ones who choose the hardest path, who lead by example, who spare their enemies." His voice darkened. "But that kind of bullshit only works in fiction."
He gestured to the carnage. "These bandits killed Top's parents. They deserved what happened to them." His gaze lifted, locking onto Cevic and his trembling allies. "And that just leaves you."
His next step sent them scrambling backward.
Cevic's breath hitched, his body stiff with terror. "J-Just who the hell are you?!" he stammered.
Maxwell finally grinned—a menacing, wolfish grin.
"You want the truth?" His voice was almost playful now, but the weight behind it was crushing.
"Alright then." He spread his arms.
"I'm the adventurer who killed the 10th Demon Lord—and you've just been chosen as my guinea pigs to test the limits of my plot armour."