The dark mage raised his staff and began chanting an incantation. A short distance away, other mages continued to hurl fireballs at Matthew.
"Oh? So we have a sorcerer too?" Matthew scoffed. "Doesn't matter. Weak will always remain weak."
As the fireballs closed in, he clapped his hands. A burst of wind exploded from his palms. The moment the fireballs touched the current of wind, they vanished—dissipated without even a flicker of resistance. He landed smoothly on the ground, closing the distance to the dark mage.
The remaining bandits rushed to intercept him—but Matthew dealt with them effortlessly. One punch sent a man flying. Another was kicked into a tree. It wasn't even a contest.
The dark mage, meanwhile, had completed his spell. He raised his staff high, and from it surged a massive, swirling orb of deep-blue dark energy. It hurtled toward Matthew like a falling star.
With a calm expression, Matthew drew his sword once more from his robe. Blue flames ignited along the blade's edge, dancing wildly.
"Max Dragon's Breath Slash: Aqua!" Matthew shouted. His voice echoed unnaturally—through the air, through the ground, and even through the minds of those who heard it.
He slashed the air. A wave of searing blue flame erupted from the blade, crashing head-on into the dark mage's spell. The two powers collided, creating a massive explosion that shook the entire mountain range.
Chunks of rock rained down from above.
A moment later, a coordinated magical attack came from behind—more bandits. But Matthew sensed it. With one fluid motion, he turned and sliced through the attack, splitting the magic in half. Another explosion followed, smaller but sharp.
Matthew wore a smug grin. "You're not bad, dark mage."
"I don't need compliments from a dragon," the dark mage spat. The few surviving bandits clung to his cloak.
"Wait!" Matthew called out. "You're not escaping—"
But the dark mage raised his staff once more. A blinding flash of pale-blue light burst forth. Everyone instinctively closed their eyes—everyone except Baldwin and Athan, who stood firm.
When the light faded, the dark mage and his surviving men were gone—vanished without a trace. Only the unconscious or wounded bandits remained… along with Matthew, Baldwin, Athan, and Spark.
Spark, still lying on the ground, stared at Baldwin and Athan. During the entire battle, they hadn't moved. They hadn't flinched. Even the shockwaves hadn't fazed them. While the world around them crumbled, they'd stood like gods, chatting casually.
What kind of monsters did I let into my carriage…? Spark thought in disbelief.
Matthew walked over to Spark and offered his hand. Spark hesitated at first, wary after everything he'd seen. But eventually, he took the hand and pulled himself up.
"I'm sorry for the… commotion," Spark said awkwardly.
"So why's he apologizing again?" Athan asked, raising a brow.
"I don't know," Baldwin replied with a chuckle. "Maybe it's just one of his weird little habits. He didn't even do anything—except moan like a dying cat. Haha!"
Athan let out a low laugh as well, unable to hold it in.
Matthew gave a small nod. "I'm heading to the village now. Gotta clean up the rest of the trash." Without waiting for a reply, he jumped high into the air—and vanished in the blink of an eye.
"Dragons…" Baldwin muttered. "Judging by his arrogance, that fits their race well."
In the village…
A woman held her child tightly, shielding him with her body. One of the bandits yanked her up by the hair.
"Get up, b*tch! That explosion? Probably our boss getting attacked. Doesn't matter. You two are getting sold either way!"
"Please, leave my child! He's just a boy!" the woman pleaded.
"Shut your mouth!" The bandit raised his boot to strike her—but suddenly, a shadow loomed over him.
The next moment, he was gone.
Matthew landed where the man had stood.
Back on the hillside…
Baldwin and Athan began walking toward the village.
"Hey!" Spark called out. "You're just gonna leave me here?! With all these unconscious bandits?!"
Athan shrugged. "Like you said—they're unconscious. Not going anywhere. If you're scared, catch up."
They continued walking. After a few paces, Baldwin reached into his shadow. A Red book rose slowly from the darkness.
"Took you long enough to bring me out," the book grumbled.
"I need information," Baldwin said calmly. "Tell me everything you know about the dragon race."
They continued walking—toward fire, toward a village on the brink, and toward secrets buried deep in myth.
Before they reached the village, Spark finally caught up with them. Just as he arrived, Baldwin quickly hid Inkbound back into his shadow, concealing the living book before Spark could notice.
"Hey! Took me forever to catch up to you guys!" Spark panted, clearly exhausted from the sprint.
Upon entering the village, Baldwin and Athan were surprised to see the aftermath of the earlier chaos. The remaining bandits had been tied up, and the villagers were tending to their wounded and helping one another recover. Amidst the activity, Matthew walked ahead, casually circling around Baldwin.
Behind him, a few villagers followed curiously.
"This is the man," Matthew announced loudly, gesturing to Baldwin. "Because of him, I came here."
The crowd burst into cheers. Applause, whistles, and excited voices filled the air. Baldwin blinked in confusion. Athan raised an eyebrow. Even Spark looked baffled as he watched the villagers celebrate Baldwin as a hero.
"Did we… do something?" Athan whispered.
"No idea," Baldwin muttered. "But I'm not going to complain."
—
Far away from the cheerful village, in a realm shrouded in darkness, a different gathering took place. It was the secret domain of the Dark Six Kings—a forbidden place untouched by sunlight. Six shadowed figures sat in silence, forming a circle of twisted power.
Suddenly, a white circle of light erupted in the center of the chamber. All six figures immediately rose from their seats, summoning weapons and spells, preparing for battle.
As the light dimmed, a woman stood calmly where it had burst. Her beauty was ethereal, beyond human measure. She wore a simple brown robe, holding a staff with a faint glow.
"Ah… finally found this place," she said, dusting herself off. "Yo, Six!"
Before she could finish her sentence, bolts of dark energy were launched toward her. In response, she lazily waved her staff once—and all the attacks reflected off in different directions, striking the walls.
"Now, now. I didn't come here to fight," she said, smiling. "You'd be foolish to challenge me, especially when you can't win."
One of the kings growled. "Why are you here?"
"Why? Obviously to help you," the woman replied, her smile widening.
"Why would a god from the Light Side ever want to help us?" another snapped, his voice full of suspicion.
The woman pointed her staff toward the center king—the one who had remained seated the whole time.
"You know the reason," she said. Then, she tossed something toward him. A book, bound in dark leather, with a pen attached.
The center king caught it. "What is this?"
"It's a trap," she answered. "A tool that can create an entirely separate world to imprison your target."
"...How do we use it?" he asked, examining the strange artifact.
"It'll show you. Just don't get caught in it yourself."
Without another word, the woman raised her staff. A white circle formed beneath her feet. As light consumed her once more, she vanished, leaving behind a faint scorch mark on the cold stone floor.
The chamber returned to silence—but the kings knew. Things were shifting. A new player had just moved their piece across the board.