Chapter 10: The Legendary Mage

Familiar faces, all with mocking eyes. No one would understand, and no one would believe. Would they?

To the world, Downs had given up a perfectly good knighthood to pursue magic, which seemed like mere folly. But selling the family heirloom armor? That made him a bona fide wastrel.

Even Ren could easily understand this. It was akin to a naive youth selling the family’s only house, then borrowing money during a stock market crash to buy more stocks, only to lose everything when the market didn’t recover.

In the human nations of the Chaos Continent, feudalism reigned. Unless you were a newly knighted individual, lords didn’t support knights with direct payments. Instead, they granted a small fief, typically a village of 30 to 50 households. The villagers paid taxes directly to the knight, who used these taxes to procure armor, horses, and sustain a retinue and apprentices. In times of war, the knight would join the lord’s call to arms.

Knighthood wasn’t hereditary, but old knightly families often had a spot reserved by the lord, as long as each generation produced a knight. This fief would remain with the family.

People ridiculed Downs for selling his armor not just because he sold the armor, but because he essentially sold the fief his father had passed down. Hence, when someone mocked him, the whole tavern erupted with laughter that nearly blew the roof off.

Lamanche City had only six taverns, and for many, switching taverns was harder than moving to the neighboring province. In a city of a thousand people, bad news travels fast, and Downs’s misdeed from two weeks ago was still fresh gossip.

Previously, Downs would have felt heartbroken, as these townsfolk trampled on his greatest dream. He thought, if he hadn’t met his master by chance, he might have been crushed by reality in another year, perhaps less. He would have eventually accepted his impotence and drifted through life aimlessly.

Now, even with a hundred mocking voices around him, Downs felt as if he had an invisible shield protecting him from their scorn. Instead of anger, a slight smile crept onto his face. He didn’t need to confront them angrily because he was no longer the same person. Magic had given him… confidence.

“Yes, I’m not a grand mage yet, but I am an official mage,” Downs responded lightly, naturally drawing even more ridicule. The laughter intensified.

“Haha! You actually believe it!”

“How many clown tricks have you learned to be this confident?”

“I should have conned you myself.”

“Heavens! Please tell me, who was lucky enough to get your family’s heirloom money?”

Among the mockers were his old friends, off-duty city guards, and workers from all trades. They all knew Downs since he was a child.

Downs could accept his old friends and townsfolk not understanding him. But when someone called his master a fraud, he couldn’t hold back his temper any longer. He exploded.

“Johnny! Don’t you dare insult my master!” With a roar like thunder, Downs spread his arms and pulled out a meter-long arc of dazzling electricity from his palms.

The violet-blue lightning serpent writhed and crackled, overpowering the dim oil lamps in the tavern. Silence fell instantly as everyone gaped, dumbstruck, nearly forgetting to breathe.

No one thought Downs was anything but a clown. Yet here he was, a mage! The tavern, filled with over a hundred people, was deathly silent except for the crackle of electricity.

“It must be a trick, right?” A dazed city guard reached out to touch the electric arc.

“Don’t touch it,” Downs warned, too late.

“Ahhh!” Despite Downs quickly withdrawing the magic from his [Lightning Whip], the strong shock had already burned the guard’s fingers, sending him to the floor, twitching and foaming at the mouth.

“Ah!”

“Oh no.”

“Someone help.”

“Wait, how?”

Amidst the chaos, Downs knelt and checked the reckless guard, sighing in relief. “Good thing I controlled the [Lightning Whip]’s power. If I hadn’t, Johnny would be dead.”

No one dared to speak carelessly now. The crowd shivered in fear. If Downs was a real mage, he would undoubtedly become a guest of the Duke or even the King. Who would care about the fate of a foolish guard then?

In the chaos, an old man sneaked out the back door, running frantically to the Temple of Light. Bursting in, he shouted, “Old Ryan! I’ve seen a ghost! You know what I saw at the tavern today? A mage! A real mage!”

The priest called Old Ryan, about sixty with white hair, white eyebrows, and a slight bald patch, frowned. Despite knowing his old friend wouldn’t lie, he couldn’t berate him in front of the younger priests and nuns. “Doyle, are you sure you weren’t hallucinating from drinking too much?”

“Nonsense! I haven’t had a drop today,” Doyle shouted. “I know magic vanished a hundred years ago when the Goddess of Magic fell and the magic web collapsed, killing or driving mad all mages. But that kid used real magic! He knocked out Johnny with a [Lightning Whip].”

Ryan’s expression turned serious. The gods’ war a century ago had a profound impact on the Chaos World. The fall of many deities severed the connection between the divine and mortal realms. Priests, once able to perform divine magic through prayer, found their powers unreliable.

This led humanity to rely more on traditional physical skills. Pure mages were unseen, and even paladins treated themselves more like heavy infantry.

Realizing the significance if Doyle was right, Ryan said, “Doyle, take me to see this mage.”

Before they could leave, the city’s alarm bell rang urgently.

“Clang! Clang! Clang!”

It was the warning bell, sounding like a death knell to the city’s ears. Ryan’s face turned pale. “Damn, this is the third time this year. Is the monster tide coming again?”

A young priest rushed in. “The west gate has been breached by monsters!”

End of Chapter Ten