The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 63: Departure

The next morning, Hutson arrived at Larry’s home, prepared for the journey ahead.

Unlike before, he no longer looked like a wizard.

Dressed in light armor and with a sword fastened to his waist, he bore the unmistakable presence of a knight.

This armor had cost him seven magic stones at the flea market—a steep price, but worth it. Unlike conventional plate armor, it was reinforced with protective enchantments, making it exceptionally durable against both physical strikes and magic.

Hutson had decided—once he left Moonlight Woodland, he would travel under the guise of a knight. Walking around in wizard robes would only make him a target among common folk.

Larry took one glance at him and smirked.

"Ready?"

Hutson nodded.

"Good. Follow me."

Larry led him upstairs, moving through floors Hutson had never explored before.

By the time they reached the eleventh floor, Larry came to a stop.

The space was vast, resembling a lounge. Plush sofas were arranged neatly, and a large fireplace dominated one side of the room. Stacks of firewood were piled beside it, neatly arranged.

Hutson frowned.

"Why are we here? I thought we were leaving."

Larry chuckled.

"You weren’t thinking of walking out through the eastern or southern gates, were you?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "If you want to, I won’t stop you—just be sure you’re ready for a fight the moment you step outside."

Hutson’s face darkened.

Larry’s words confirmed his worst fears—Moonlight Woodland’s borders were no longer safe.

Green Lodge’s forces were already lurking, waiting for anyone foolish enough to leave the conventional way.

"So... how are we getting out?" Hutson asked cautiously.

Larry gestured to the fireplace.

"Through the Floo Network."

Hutson blinked.

"Floo Network? Never heard of it."

Larry smiled.

"I’m not surprised. Only three fireplaces in all of Moonlight Woodland are connected to it."

Hutson listened carefully as Larry explained. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"The Floo Network links certain wizard homes through enchanted fireplaces. With the right powder, you can step into the flames, say the name of your destination, and be instantly transported there."

Hutson frowned.

"That sounds... extremely dangerous."

He pictured himself stepping into a stranger’s fireplace, only to be ambushed the moment he arrived.

Larry shrugged.

"That’s why only powerful wizards dare to connect their homes to the network. If you ever end up in the wrong place—pray you have a quick escape."

He reached up to the mantelpiece, pulling down a wooden box.

Opening it, he revealed a fine green powder inside.

"This is Floo Powder. You take a handful, step into the fireplace, speak your destination clearly, and throw it down. The magic does the rest."

He closed the box and locked eyes with Hutson.

"Your destination is Violet Cottage. It’s an abandoned wooden house deep in the forests of the Konakani Kingdom. Once you arrive, head south for two days, and you’ll reach Violet City. From there, head west, and you’ll find your way to the Doris Kingdom."

Hutson committed the route to memory.

Larry clapped his shoulder.

"Simple. Now go."

Hutson stepped into the fireplace, checking his belongings one last time.

Larry held the box out to him.

Hutson grabbed a handful of Floo Powder—it felt like fine sand, ordinary in every way.

Larry’s voice turned firm.

"Remember. Say ’Violet Cottage.’"

Hutson nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke the name aloud.

"Violet Cottage!"

Then, he tossed the powder downward.

Green flames erupted instantly, engulfing him whole—and in the blink of an eye, he vanished.

Everything turned black.

Then, Hutson’s world flipped upside down—his head and feet reversed, and he felt himself being pulled through a swirling void, moving at an impossible speed.

Just as he glimpsed a white opening ahead—

BOOM!

Hutson crashed straight into a pile of debris, sending wooden shelves, broken chairs, and dust flying in all directions.

He coughed violently, trying to clear the thick cloud of dust choking the air.

When his vision cleared, he saw that he had landed inside a ruined wooden cottage.

The place was a mess—piles of tattered furniture, shattered wood, and discarded junk covered the floor.

Hutson looked behind him.

A large fireplace stood there—his point of entry.

So this is Violet Cottage...

A cough wracked his body.

"Dark Energy Shield!"

A veil of shadowy energy flickered around him, blocking out the dust.

He forced his way out of the pile of debris, shoving aside broken furniture without a care—his magical shield kept him from worrying about scratches or splinters.

When he finally stepped free, he took a good look around.

The stairs leading to the second floor were rotted and broken, several steps missing entirely.

How long has this place been abandoned?

Hutson spotted the front door and approached it, testing the handle.

With a loud crack, the rusted handle snapped off in his grip.

He stared at the broken piece of metal in his palm, expression blank.

"This house is a lost cause."

Sighing, he put his shoulder against the door and pushed.

Nothing.

It was completely jammed.

Without hesitation, he took a step back and—

BAM!

With a single kick, the door flew open, sending another cloud of dust and splinters into the air.

Hutson hurried outside, coughing as he emerged into the cool, open air.

The moment he looked up, raindrops touched his face—cold and light.

Glancing skyward, he saw thick gray clouds rolling overhead.

It was raining.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but wild plains, stretching in every direction.

The Violet Cottage sat alone in the vast expanse, a forgotten relic at the heart of an endless wilderness.

Beyond the plains, just at the horizon, dark forests loomed—his next destination.

Hutson exhaled slowly, adjusting the sword at his hip.

The journey had begun.

...

Hutson moved like a shadow through the dense foliage, his keen eyes scanning the undergrowth. The damp scent of earth filled the air, mingling with the distant whisper of rain against the towering canopy. Then, a flicker of movement—a rabbit, its fur blending with the underbrush.

Without hesitation, Hutson drew his bow, his breath steady. The world shrank to the taut string, the arrow’s sharp tip, and the small creature’s oblivious form. A heartbeat later, the twang of the bowstring cut through the silence, followed by a dull thud. The rabbit crumpled, an arrow lodged cleanly through its skull.