The Legendary Mage

Familiar faces, eyes brimming with mockery.

No one would understand. Even less would anyone believe.

Wasn't that so?

In everyone's eyes, Downs had refused to inherit a perfectly good knightly title and insisted on studying magic. That had originally seemed like nothing more than pointless flailing, but after he sold his family's heirloom armor, he had become an outright wastrel.

Even Lein could easily understand this. Put in terms from before his transmigration, it was probably like some foolish kid getting brainwashed, selling his family's only house, borrowing money to leverage up during a stock market crash to buy the dip—only to buy at the very top and get forcibly liquidated, losing every last cent.

Ahem, that was already the most polite comparison possible.

The human nations of Chaos Continent all practiced feudalism.

Unless they were Newly Promoted knights, lords did not support knights by simply handing them money.

The standard practice was to grant a knight a tiny fief, usually a small village of thirty to fifty households. The Villagers paid taxes directly to the knight, who used the Tax revenue to purchase equipment such as armor and horses while supporting his squires and apprentices. When war came, he answered his lord's call to enlist.

Knighthoods were not hereditary, but lords often reserved a position for old knightly families that had served their house for generations. As long as each generation of that family produced a Formal Mage—no, a formal knight—the small fief would remain with that knightly family.

When everyone mocked Downs for selling his armor, they were not merely mocking the sale of the armor itself. More than that, they were mocking him for indirectly selling the fief his father had passed down to him!

The moment that person finished speaking, the laughter throughout the tavern nearly blew off the ceiling.

Although Ramanque City had only six taverns, for many people, changing taverns was harder than moving to the neighboring province.

There were only around a thousand people in a district. Good news never left home, but bad news traveled a thousand miles.

Downs's wastrel exploits remained a joke passed from mouth to mouth, even though they had happened two weeks ago.

Before this, Downs would have been utterly devastated.

Because these neighbors were trampling on the greatest dream of his life!

Downs suddenly thought, If I hadn't been fortunate enough to meet Master, then in a few years—no, one year—I might have been mercilessly beaten down by this world, accepted my own incompetence, and eventually gone on living in a muddle.

Though over a hundred voices around him were laughing at him, Downs seemed to have activated an Air Shield, shutting out every invisible wound.

Not only was he not angered, a faint smile even appeared on his lips.

He did not even need to glare defiantly at a thousand accusing fingers, because he was no longer the person he had once been.

This was the confidence magic had given him...

"Yes! I'm not an Archmage yet, but I'm already a Formal Mage." Downs's casual reply naturally earned even greater ridicule.

The laughter around him rose to another level.

"HAHAHA! You actually believed it!"

"No way! How many clown Tricks did you learn to be this confident?"

"If I'd known, I would've swallowed my pride and scammed you myself."

"Gods! Please tell me exactly which swindler was lucky enough to get that huge sum you received from selling your armor."

Those mocking him included his childhood companions, off-duty City Guards, and workers from all trades. Every one of them had watched Downs grow up.

Downs could accept the incomprehension of his neighbors and old friends, but when someone called his master a fraud, the young Downs could no longer restrain his temper.

He erupted.

"Johnny! You are not allowed to insult my master!" Along with his thunderous roar, he spread his arms and drew out blazing arcs of electricity from both palms, each a full meter long.

The purplish-blue Thunder Serpents writhed and twisted continuously, occasionally bursting with sharp crackles.

The tavern's oil lamps were instantly completely overwhelmed by the dazzling electric light.

So were everyone's voices.

Every person stared blankly, mouths agape in shock, nearly forgetting to breathe.

No way!

Downs had really learned magic?

Everyone had thought Downs was a clown.

Who would have thought the clowns were actually themselves!?

In the tavern that held over a hundred people, even the drop of a needle would have been clearly audible. Only the sizzling of Electric Current lingered in everyone's minds.

"Fake, right? This must be a Trick, right?" At the table to Downs's left, a City Guard looked both confused and recklessly eager as he reached out, trying to touch the electricity in Downs's hand.

It was already too late when Downs noticed. "Don't touch it."

"AAAAAH—"

Although Downs immediately withdrew the magic from Lightning Whip, the powerful shock had already charred the Unlucky Fellow's fingers black. He collapsed to the floor, foam spilling from his mouth as his whole body convulsed.

"Ah!"

"This is bad."

"Something happened."

"Quick, save him."

"Wait, how do we save him?"

Everyone fell into a panic.

Only Downs crouched down to examine the handsy City Guard and sighed. "Fortunately, I controlled the power of Lightning Whip. If I'd gone all out, Diane would be dead for sure."

At this moment, who dared speak carelessly?

The whole group was trembling in fear.

If Downs had not faked that scene and had truly become a legendary mage, then he would undoubtedly become an honored guest of a duke—or even a king.

Who the hell would care whether a reckless City Guard lived or died?

Amid the chaos, a wretched old man slipped out through the tavern's back door and ran madly toward the Temple of Light.

The moment he entered the temple gates, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Old Ryan! Something incredible happened! Do you know what I saw in the tavern today? A mage! A real mage!"

The priest called Old Ryan was probably in his sixties. He had white hair and white eyebrows, along with a somewhat Mediterranean Sea bald spot.

Although he knew his old friend would not make things up, he could not rebuke him in front of the young priests and nuns. "Doyle! Are you sure you haven't drunk so much that you're hallucinating?"

"Bullshit! I haven't even started drinking today." Old Doyle shouted, "Of course I know that A Hundred Years Ago, the Goddess of Magic fell and the Magic Net collapsed, causing every mage to either die suddenly or go mad. Magic vanished from the entire continent after that. But that kid really used magic! He used a Lightning Whip to shock Johnny, the City Guard, unconscious."

The Old Priest's expression immediately turned grave.

The war of the gods A Hundred Years Ago had profoundly affected the entire Chaos World.

The fall of many gods had caused magic to disappear. Even divine practitioners who did not use magic had been affected, as the gods had either fallen or been injured, making the connection between the upper realms and the mortal continent extremely unreliable.

In the past, priests, Divine Guides, and other practitioners could obtain divine spells through prayer and cast the spells bestowed by the gods at any time.

The direct result of the war of the gods was that even the divine spells of those holy men worked only sporadically.

As a result, humans throughout the continent had no choice but to rely mainly on traditional Physics School professions.

Pure spellcasters were nowhere to be seen. Even dual practitioners of Magic and Martial, such as Paladins, mostly regarded themselves as oversized infantrymen.

Old Ryan realized that if Doyle was not lying, the appearance of this mage would be an epoch-making sign.

"Doyle, hurry and take me to see that young mage."

Before he had even finished speaking, urgent bell chimes suddenly rang throughout the city.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

It was the alarm bell!

To everyone's ears, it sounded more like a death knell heralding danger and death.

Priest Ryan's face turned pale. "Damn it, this is already the third time this year. Is the Demon Tide coming again?"

A young priest rushed into the temple. "This is bad. Monsters have broken through the West Gate!"