The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 95 - 96: The Aftermath

The battle had taken a heavy toll on the caravan. Sixty-two lives were lost.

Among them, twenty-five were ordinary travelers—merchants, traders, and workers who had no business being caught in such bloodshed. The rest were guards who had fought valiantly but fell to overwhelming odds.

Karim’s adventuring party had suffered the worst. Thirteen of their warriors had perished, for they had borne the brunt of the enemy’s assault. Their superior equipment made them prime targets, and the attacking force had dedicated significant manpower to take them down.

Other adventurers had lost twenty-four of their own, mostly the weaker ones—those who lacked the strength or cunning to survive. In a battle like this, the shrewd knew better than to fight to the death. They sought survival above all else. The battle hadn’t lasted long, but long enough to leave scars on those who endured.

Karim and Loquay took command of the aftermath, organizing the caravan, tending to the wounded, and ensuring that order was restored.

Karim, now a figure of unwavering authority, had etched an unforgettable image into the hearts of those who had witnessed his power.

Meanwhile, Hutson sought out Ed beneath one of the wagons. The young man had taken cover during the battle, and Hutson rewarded his cowardice with a firm boot to the backside.

"Get up," he ordered. "We’re leaving."

Ed scrambled out, grinning sheepishly. "Right away, my lord."

Ever since he had seen Hutson’s raw display of might, Ed had regarded him as something close to a god. Karim’s radiant power was impressive, no doubt, but in Ed’s mind, Hutson was on an entirely different level.

Hutson made his way to his carriage, preparing to board when Karim jogged up to him.

"You must be Sir Gerant," Karim said, his voice filled with gratitude. "If not for your intervention, the death toll would have been far worse. We owe you our lives."

Hutson barely spared him a glance, nodding once. "Mm."

His curiosity was piqued by the strange power Karim wielded, but the man himself? Uninteresting. Hutson had no patience for fools, and in his eyes, Karim was exactly that—a man who was just as likely to get his allies killed as his enemies.

Karim, undeterred by the cold response, chuckled awkwardly. "Mystics truly are an eccentric lot."

He hadn’t seen Hutson fight firsthand, but upon speaking with the adventurers, he had learned that Gerant was no ordinary warrior—he was a force of nature who had single-handedly cut down scores of soldiers. The moment he heard, Karim had rushed over to express his thanks.

Three hours later, the caravan set off once more. But this time, there were no lively conversations, no cheerful banter—only the weight of loss hung in the air.

Loquay sat atop the lead wagon, his expression dark, his eyes vacant.

A dear friend, one he had traveled with for years, had been among the fallen. When they found his body, only half of his head remained.

"One last job. Then I’ll retire to the countryside and live the rest of my days in peace."

That’s what he had said before they set out.

The caravan finally emerged from the treacherous highlands of the Dragonspine Range, descending into the vast open plains.

In the rear of the convoy, locked within a cold iron cage, Ives remained a prisoner. They gave him only enough water to keep him alive, feeding him once every three days.

"A knight of his rank doesn’t die so easily," Loquay had remarked.

But Ives was nearing his limit. His body was broken, his limbs ruined, his stomach hollow. His spirit—once unyielding—was now a dim shadow of what it had been.

Hutson saw no reason to keep him alive. A swift blade would end the trouble he posed.

But Karim, bound by duty, refused. He had taken on Loquay’s contract and intended to see it through. The caravan had to reach Doris Kingdom safely, and Ives had to be delivered to Stormhold for execution. To that end, two adventurers were assigned to guard the captive at all times.

As they moved deeper into the plains, the barren wilderness gave way to civilization. Towns and villages became more frequent, bringing an end to the isolation of the Dragonspine.

Supply shortages were no longer a concern; food, water, and equipment could be replenished with ease.

Though their numbers had been thinned, the caravan remained formidable. Karim’s recent ascension to a Great Knight ensured that few dared to stand in their way.

Those who did—brigands foolish enough to think the caravan easy prey—soon met their end.

And so, time passed.

A month later, deep within his carriage, Hutson opened his eyes.

"AI chip, display my body’s status."

A mechanical voice responded instantly.

"Hutson Merlin: Strength 3.9, Agility 4.0, Constitution 5.5, Spirit 12.4, Mana 100%."

Hutson exhaled slowly. The seventh star of his meditation was complete.

His body had undergone a noticeable transformation. Some of it was due to reaching this new stage of meditation, but the lingering effects of dark energy particles reinforcing his physical form played a role as well.

Only three stars remained before he could fully illuminate the first pattern of the star array. What kind of power would be unlocked when that moment arrived? Even he couldn’t be certain.

Yet, one concern weighed on him. Reaching the final three stars would qualify him for ascension to a Third-Class Wizard Apprentice, but without the Heart of a Stone Golem, he wouldn’t be able to craft the necessary potion for the ritual.

The heart of a Stone Golem was a rare and volatile component, impossible to store for long periods. That meant he couldn’t prepare it in advance while still at the academy.

Would the Doris Kingdom even have Stone Golems? If he achieved the necessary breakthrough but couldn’t find the required material—and if the academy offered no alternatives—he would have no choice but to rely on AI chip’s calculations to devise a substitute.

Alchemy was never rigid; many potion ingredients had viable replacements—some even superior to the original.

Rare materials were often substituted in widespread alchemical formulas to ensure practicality. Certain elite ingredients were simply too difficult to obtain, so more accessible, if slightly weaker, components were used in their place.

This was a fundamental truth of alchemy. Experimentation was constant. Many of the most extraordinary potions had been born from such trials.

Hutson pushed the thoughts aside and closed his eyes once more, diving into the meditation of the Eighth Star.

Ives’ existence had become pure torment.

As a Great Knight, his body healed quickly. Too quickly.

Yet, his captors knew this all too well.

Every time his wounds mended, his bones knitting back together with inhuman resilience, someone was always there—watching. And the moment he had recovered enough to pose a threat, they shattered his limbs all over again.

Again. And again. And again.

There was no escape, only an unending cycle of agony.

With fewer bandit attacks along the road, Karim had more time to oversee his prisoner personally. And Ives had scoured every opportunity, tested every weakness, but there was none. No gaps in their vigilance.

Still, he refused to give in. The more suffering he endured, the more fiercely the ember of survival burned within him.

He just needed a single chance.

Midnight.

Two weeks had passed since the caravan entered the heartlands of Doris Kingdom. Another two weeks remained before they reached their final destination.

Hutson, deep in meditation, suddenly opened his eyes. His gaze turned toward the iron cage in the distance.

Ives sat inside, slumped against the cold steel, his arms limp at his sides. The image of a broken man.

But Hutson’s instincts whispered something different.

Standing watch over Ives was a young woman named Lissie, a member of Karim’s adventuring company. A devout admirer of her leader, she was fervently loyal to his cause.

Tonight, it was her turn to guard the prisoner.

To her, this was a dull task.

Ives had been crippled countless times. Escape was beyond his reach. Watching him required no effort.

Or so she believed.

Hutson’s eyes narrowed.

Something was about to happen.