The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 130 - 131: Rescue

Malcolm’s parting words carried a clear warning.

As long as Hutson remained hidden within Moonlight Grove, he was safe. But the moment he stepped beyond its borders, Malcolm would strike.

After a brief moment of thought, Malcolm made his decision—for now, he would retreat.

Barty was too strong to face directly, and taking Hutson from him was nearly impossible. A direct battle here would serve no purpose.

Casting one last glance at Barty, Malcolm turned his Nightmare Steed and vanished into the sky.

Barty watched him go, making no effort to stop him.

This was a critical moment of truce, and escalating the conflict could disrupt the fragile balance between factions. Even so, the hostility between Moonlight Grove and Green Lodge had been reignited.

Turning his gaze downward, Barty looked at the battered form of Hutson.

"We need to get him back to the Grove. I’ll inform Larry."

Hutson was Larry’s student, and though his injuries were severe, they were not fatal.

Barty lifted a hand, summoning a massive enchanted leaf. With a simple flick of his fingers, Hutson’s unconscious body floated onto it, while Barty himself stepped atop the leaf.

The moment he was balanced, the leaf accelerated, soaring swiftly toward Moonlight Grove.

A desperate voice called from below.

"Wait! Barty, I’m not on yet!" Fried’s voice rang out.

Barty’s voice drifted down from the sky, indifferent.

"You’d just be extra weight. Get back to the outpost and finish your assignment."

And just like that—he was gone.

Fried stood frozen, watching as Barty and Hutson disappeared into the distance.

Then, he glanced in the direction Malcolm had left, his body tense.

What if Malcolm doubled back?

If he did... Fried would be dead before he could blink.

He wasn’t like Hutson—he wouldn’t last a second against Malcolm.

Shuddering, he exhaled deeply, before turning and running back to the outpost.

Pain.

Hutson’s first sensation upon waking was an unbearable wave of pain, his body aching as if he had been shattered and hastily put back together.

His head throbbed, his limbs felt heavy, and every breath reminded him of his broken ribs.

A soft voice broke through the haze.

"You’re awake."

It was a gentle, familiar voice.

His thoughts slowly cleared, and as he focused, he realized he was lying in his own bedroom.

Beside him sat a woman—Bessie.

Hutson blinked in surprise.

"You?"

Bessie smiled. "Don’t talk too much yet—you haven’t fully recovered."

She poured him a glass of water as she continued.

"Larry just left. He’s been treating you these past few days. Your bones have been mended, but you still need time to heal. I can’t perform healing magic, and I don’t have anything important to do right now, so I decided to stay here and take care of you."

Hutson tried to lift his head but found it too painful to even move.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice dry.

A thought flickered through his mind.

"AI chip, assess my physical condition."

A moment later, AI chip’s response echoed in his thoughts.

Multiple fractures detected—fully mended.Extensive soft tissue damage.Lungs previously punctured by fractured ribs—now repaired.Severe liver rupture—fully healed.Overall status: Heavy injury recovery. Estimated full recovery time: One month.

Hutson exhaled. "I really almost died."

It was his first direct confrontation with a fully ranked sorcerer. The power gap was insurmountable.

Even though he had fought with everything he had, all he could do was delay his inevitable defeat.

Had Barty not arrived when he did, Hutson would already be strapped to Malcolm’s laboratory table, dissected like a specimen.

"...Water."

His throat was unbearably dry.

Bessie immediately rose, gently propping him up with a soft pillow, then carefully lifted the cup to his lips.

He drank slowly, feeling the cool liquid ease the burning dryness in his throat.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Bessie simply smiled. "We’re friends, aren’t we?"

Hutson noticed something else—her attire.

Unlike their last meeting, she was dressed conservatively this time.

A thought pushed itself to the surface, but he ignored it. Instead, he asked, "How long was I out?"

"Three days."

Bessie crossed her arms. "Honestly, it’s insane you even woke up this soon. Larry said that with your level of injuries, most people would be unconscious for at least ten days."

Hutson knew why. His physical endurance was far beyond the norm.

But compared to Malcolm, compared to a real sorcerer, it meant nothing.

He shook his head bitterly.

"I was too weak."

"I almost didn’t make it back."

Bessie frowned, her voice firm. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"No, you’re already incredible. Malcolm is a Tier-1 Crystalized Sorcerer, one of the strongest in his rank. The fact that you lasted against him, dodged his attacks, and survived until Barty arrived? That’s unheard of. No third-tier apprentice could have done what you did."

The gap between apprentices and full sorcerers was an impossible chasm.

By all rights, Hutson should have been obliterated the moment the battle began.

Instead, he had held his ground.

Hutson let out a soft, weary laugh. He appreciated the praise, but deep inside, he felt nothing but frustration.

"...It’s not enough."

A fire ignited within him.

He had to become stronger.

He had to ascend.

He had to become a full sorcerer.

The desperation he had felt in that battle—the absolute powerlessness—he never wanted to experience it again.

He would reach the official rank. He had to.

Closing his eyes, Hutson slowly sank into meditation.

There was no time to waste.

Bessie watched as Hutson immersed himself in deep meditation, his breathing slow and controlled. Even in his weakened state, his discipline remained unwavering.

She sighed softly, shaking her head. "You really are relentless. No wonder you improve so fast."

She hesitated before adding, "Master Larry mentioned that while meditation does speed up recovery, you still need proper rest. Don’t push yourself too hard."

With that, she gently closed the door behind her, leaving Hutson undisturbed.

In the vast expanse of his mind, a second star ignited on his Runic Array—the sign of his growing mastery over the Celestial Meditation Technique.

At the third-tier apprentice level, this technique allowed for five stars to be lit. Hutson had four more to go.

He assessed his progress.

Current Mental Strength: 18.6.Projected Maximum Before Advancement: 24–25.

For most third-tier apprentices, 20 mental strength was enough to attempt ascension.

But Hutson wasn’t interested in ’just enough.’

He would push himself to the limit—maxing out his meditation before stepping into the ranks of full-fledged sorcerers.

"Only when I have reached the peak will I advance."

The battle with Malcolm had ignited a fire within him—a hunger for power that would never allow him to remain weak again.

And so, he trained.

Hutson took his first unsteady steps across the room, his body recovering faster than expected.

His mind flickered with curiosity.

"Is this the effect of the Celestial Meditation?"

Through rigorous training, the twelfth star in his runic formation was nearly solidified.

In two or three days, he would complete this phase of meditation.

Just as Bessie helped him toward the sitting room, a sudden knock echoed from downstairs.

She steadied him onto the sofa before turning toward the door. "I’ll get it."

Hutson, ever-cautious, instinctively activated AI chip’s perception.

Through its enhanced senses, he saw the visitor.

A middle-aged man wearing round spectacles.

From the sheer density of magical energy radiating off him, there was no doubt—this was a powerful Tier-1 Sorcerer.

Hutson frowned.

He didn’t recognize this man.

Why was he here?

Downstairs, Bessie opened the door—and to Hutson’s surprise, she seemed to know the visitor.

Not only that—her demeanor instantly shifted.

Gone was her usual casual air. Instead, she stood with visible respect and deference.

Whoever this was, his status was significant.

A moment later, Bessie led the man upstairs.

He stopped in front of Hutson, eyes sharp with quiet appraisal.

"You must be Hutson."

His voice was measured, authoritative.

"I am Salin Ellison, one of the current overseers of Moonlight Grove."