Legend of the arch magus

Chryselle was momentarily stunned when one of the brothers was suddenly sent flying. His body rolled on the ground several times before halting to a stop, leaving behind trails of blood. A soft groan escaped Austen's lips. He coughed several times before vomiting blood. "No!" George's cry echoed in the alley. He tried to run towards Austen when a fist suddenly struck his abdomen, making him kneel on the ground in pain. "You'll be next. Wait your turn."

The hooded figure slowly walked towards Austen. Chryselle broke out of her stupor. She quickly got up and ran to stop the man from hurting anyone any further. "Brother! What are you doing?! Stop!"

Chryselle yanked at his clothes, pulling down the hood in the process. A red-haired man with stubbles and a crescent scar running through his left eye stared at her. He was Alecto, the Master of the City of Magic. "The same for you," said Alecto, his voice comparably softer when speaking to his sister. "Stay put. Do not move."

Chryselle tried to cast her magic to stop her brother, but to her horror, she found herself unable to channel her mana. She looked at her feet and saw a small magic circle glowing underneath. During that short exchange, Alecto had already sealed her magic with the highest-grade talisman, an item that would normally cost several gold coins in the market. Even speaking had become impossible now without Alecto's permission. Despite the pain, George stood up and ran towards Austen. Alecto smirked as he looked at this amusing sight. "Hey, are you alright?" George was horrified when he saw Austen's broken arm. "Don't ask the obvious," groaned Austen. "We need to get out of here. That guy… he's seriously trying to kill us."

A short chuckle escaped Alecto's lips. "Kill you? I may look like this, but I'm a compassionate man, kids. I will let you live. Don't worry."

He snapped his fingers and George's left hand twisted in unimaginable ways, making horrible crackling sounds. "Ah, Ahhhhh!"

George screamed at the top of his lungs as tears flowed down his eyes. He fell on his knees as his entire body trembled from excruciating pain.

"G-George!" Alecto's eyes were cold. Austen tried to stand up to help his brother, but an invisible force struck him at the face, sending a tooth flying out. Blood dripped down his nose as he finally lost consciousness, his entire body sprawled on the ground. "Ah, damn it. I should have hit him on the stomach instead." Alecto smacked his lips in disappointment. He did not expect Austen to lose consciousness this easily. He held back a lot, after all. "You'll have to entertain me I guess." Alecto was about to cast another spell when a hand grabbed his shoulder, and upon turning to look, someone slapped his cheek. "Chryselle."

Her eyes were red from crying. "I told you to stop!" she shouted, her voice almost pleading. "Please! Just stop!"

Alecto saw the torn talisman on the ground. As expected of one of the elders of Wizzert City. A normal magician would have taken at least an hour to unshackle himself from that spell. Seeing the pitiful face of his sister, Alecto decided that he had done enough.

He was feeling good today too, so he decided to stop. These two brats were lucky that he was feeling magnanimous today. On normal occasions, he would have killed them without hesitation. He was the Master of the City of Magic. Even the King was unable to touch him. Even if he killed these two on broad daylight, who would be there to stop him? "Fine." Alecto pulled out a handkerchief and wipe the tears on his sister's face. He looked up. It was already dark. "It's time for dinner. Let's go back.

You still have to meet with the other Elders after this."

Chryselle sobbed. She looked at the pitiful states of the brothers. One was unconscious on the ground, while the other one was squirming from excruciating pain, his arm twisted in a different direction.

She did not want things to become like this. She only wanted to see the magic formation drawn on the parchment. "I will call for a healer," she said to them. "I'm sorry."

She bowed her head. She did not know healing magic, and she was not carrying any potions with her. She decided to go back and ask for help from her fellow magicians. The two magicians from Wizzert City left the alley and disappeared from sight. Unbeknownst to her, after that, Alecto stopped the healers and other magicians from coming to help the two. They were left there in the alley, their bodies battered and unable to move. *** The night passed but Austen and George did not come back to the inn. The next day, worried that they somehow got lost inside this large city – or maybe got themselves into trouble – Lark ordered his men to look for the two. Several hours passed and Lark heard the news. One of the servants found the two in the temple, recuperating after passing out in an alley. Lark, along with Anandra, immediately went towards that place. Upon seeing the state of Austen and George's bodies, Lark's pupils shook.

They looked as though they had been hit by a speeding carriage. Their bodies were currently wrapped in bandages as they laid on the bed. The scent of medicinal incense filled the entire room. "What happened?" said Lark. The priest shook his head. "It seems they got into a fight with the magicians of the City."

Lark's face turned grim. Anandra, who stood next to Lark, had the same grim expression. There was no way it would be a fight. It would be nothing but a one-sided slaughter. After all, these two had yet to properly learn magic from him.

There was no way they could put up a fight against a magician from this city. Seeing this, the elderly priest sighed. His eyes were filled with understanding as he looked at Lark. "I understand that you're angry seeing them like this, but young man – don't do it. It will lead to nothing but an endless loop of violence."

"Did they tell you what exactly happened? Who did it to them?" The priest shook his head. "They did not tell me the specific story. All they told me was they were trying run away from somebody when a magician assaulted them. That kid over there—" he pointed at George, "—he was severely injured himself, but he kept begging us to prioritize the treatment of his brother first."

Lark was sure that Austen would have done the same for George. These two brothers are really… "Priest."

The priest stared at Lark, wordlessly urging him to continue.

"Thank you for taking care of them," said Lark. He bowed ninety degrees.

"Thank you for taking care of these two. I will make sure to compensate you for this. I promise."

Just by Lark's clothes alone, it was apparent that he was from a wealthy family, a noble. He did not expect someone with such status to bow his head for the sake of his men. "The Church of the Water God is open to everyone. If you are really grateful, pray." The priest gently smiled. "I am sure that the God Nareus will be delighted to have a devout believer."

"I will do that." Lark did not believe in Gods, but if his benefactor – this priest who saved his disciples – wanted him to pray to repay this kindness, then he would do so. "Ah dear me." The priest stared at the incense. "It has run out, eh? I will take a couple more of them. The two of you can sit over there while you watch over the patients."

The priest opened the door. "Please excuse me."

After the elderly priest left, Lark approached Austen and George's beds.

The priests of the Water God treated the two, but their injuries were so severe that it hardly made a difference. "You're going to heal them?" Anandra remembered the time when Lark healed him. His wounds back then were definitely more grave than this since it was inflicted by the basilisk. He could still remember the warm sensation back then when Lark's mana enveloped his entire body. Lark nodded. He pressed a hand on Austen's chest. A magic circle started forming underneath the patient's bed. Anandra stood next to the door to prevent the priest from entering while the treatment was going on. After healing the major wounds on Austen's body, Lark went to George's bed and started healing him. The twisted arm was reverted to its previous state. George groaned. He started to open his eyes. "How are you feeling?" The first thing George saw was the worried face of the young man in front of him. "Young Master?" George blinked several times. He looked around. Stone walls. The scent of medicinal incense. "Where am I?"

He remembered what happened last night. George immediately sat up then groaned when pain assaulted him. "I healed the major wounds," said Lark. "But it will still take some time before your body's fully healed." He pushed George back into the bed. With serious eyes, he asked, "What happened last night?"

George averted his gaze. Lark looked at him with eyes filled with understanding. "George, I cannot help you if you won't tell me what happened."

Like a father trying to comfort a child, Lark patiently waited for George to tell him the full story. Eventually, George conceded. After hearing the story straight from George's mouth, Lark's eyes were filled with murderous intent for a moment, but he quickly hid it. "A magician from the Tower of Magic," mumbled Lark. "Red hair, with a crescent scar across his eye."

He remembered the description given by George. Red hair was not rare, but it was not common either. And when coupled with the characteristic scar, it should be possible to find the perpetrator. Lark patted George's head. He looked at Austen still sleeping on the bed.

"The two of you did well."

These two were in this state because they did their best to protect the secret.

The magic formation written in the parchment was nothing but common knowledge in the Magic Empire. Even if these two screwed up and it fell into the enemies' hands, Lark had no intention of blaming them. Their lives were far more important than that. But the mere fact that they fought for their promise with their lives on the line tugged at his heart. An indescribable warmth filled Lark. "Anandra, you stay here and watch over these two." Anandra nodded his head. "As you wish, Young Master."

"Young Master." George started to turn pale. "Y-You're not going to fight that guy, right?"

He remembered how brutal that magician was. Furthermore, he used peculiar magic unseen by the naked eyes. Although the Young Master was strong, George had this feeling that that guy was stronger. "I won't," Lark lied. "So, don't worry and get some rest, recuperate. I will be back later. I promise."

The priest finally came back with the incense. He froze the moment he stepped into the room. One of the gravely injured patients had woken up. "I will be back later." Lark tapped the priest's shoulder. Upon turning his back on George, his eyes turned predatory. "Please take care of them for me."

The priest momentarily felt his hair stand on their edges. "Of course. That's the will of the Water God."

"Thank you."

After leaving the temple, Lark went back into his room in the inn. He took out the mana stones obtained from the basilisks. He had been trying to postpone his consumption of these stones to reduce the rebound as much as possible. But now, the time to use them had finally come. My current body should be able to handle the effects by now.

The rebound, even if present, should be minimal now. This was the result of him not neglecting training his physical body even for a moment. "A magician from the Magic Tower, huh?"

He planned on staying in this city for only a day, but he had changed his plans. He decided to get back at that bastard who made Austen and George like that.