Standing before Mr. F was a young man, seemingly around 25 years old. However, appearances could be deceiving, as mages often appeared younger than they truly were, thanks to their increasing magical power. The young man glanced at the girl standing beside him and immediately recognized her as the young lady who had fled in terror earlier.

The memory brought a smile to Mr. F's face, but this only enraged the young man.

"What are you smiling at, you perverted old clown? Have you lost your mind now that you realize your life is forfeit? Confess your crimes, and I might grant you a swift death!" he sneered, drawing his blade and pointing it directly at Mr. F.

"What a family of idiots," Mr. F muttered under his breath. Daimen heard this and his anger flared even more. "Do you have any idea what it means to offend a noble family?! Remember my name—Daimen von Daplumsebecken—because it will be the last thing you hear in your miserable life!" With that, Daimen charged forward, his family's honor hanging in the balance, determined to annihilate the man who had dared to frighten his sister.

Elisabeth cheered her brother on, eager to see the man get what she believed he deserved.

Mr. F dodged each of Daimen's attacks with ease. "Pathetic," he thought to himself. The young man was clearly a Rank 5 mage, likely having just recently ascended. His attacks were predictable, and his footwork was full of openings.

This was a clear example of how some noble families neglected proper training for their children, focusing instead on boosting their magical power with potions and reagents without ensuring a balanced development.

For Mr. F, a Rank 5 mage was hardly a challenge, but he refrained from using his magic to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. As he continued to evade Daimen's attacks, an idea began to form in his mind. With a well-placed shockwave, he created some distance between them. He used this brief moment to discreetly place a magical artifact on a nearby rooftop using his telekinetic abilities. The darkness of the night concealed his actions, giving him a clear advantage.

"What's the matter? Scared already?!" Daimen taunted, launching himself at Mr. F once more. Mr. F grinned, making a provocative gesture that said, "Come at me if you dare."

Fueled by rage, Daimen started using more serious techniques, sending waves of energy from his sword toward Mr. F. But Mr. F continued to dodge effortlessly, leaping from side to side. The attacks caused significant damage to the surrounding area—shops that had closed for the night were now collateral damage, and some buildings began to crumble. Daimen, blinded by his anger, didn't notice the destruction he was causing, but Mr. F intentionally positioned himself to maximize the damage.

After a minute, Daimen was drenched in sweat, more furious than ever. "Stop running, you coward!" he shouted in frustration. Despite none of his attacks landing, he was desperate to continue his assault. But at that moment, guards approached from both sides, rushing to the scene.

"Halt, you disturbers of the peace! In the name of the city, you are under arrest!" the guards commanded. Daimen was momentarily taken aback but quickly devised a plan to talk his way out of the situation.

"I am Daimen von Daplumsebecken, a member of this city's noble family. This man is a criminal I was attempting to apprehend for the safety of the city. Seize him, and my family will reward you handsomely."

The guards hesitated for a moment. The name Daplumsebecken was well-known to them, and some even recognized the young man as part of that family. Unsure of what had transpired, they decided to trust the noble's word.

"You there, stand still. We are placing you under arrest in the name of the city and will investigate this matter thoroughly!" one of the guards ordered.

"Investigate?" Mr. F thought to himself. "They'll probably pin something on me and leave me to rot in a cell at best." He considered fleeing, but more guards arrived on the scene, making escape seem increasingly difficult.

The soldiers saluted as a figure approached—some addressed him as Captain.

"Oh… it seems the captain of the city guard is here," Mr. F mused. "Escaping is becoming more complicated." The soldier who had taken command stepped forward and began whispering into the captain's ear.

The captain surveyed the scene, first looking at the Daplumsebecken family, then at Mr. F. He took note of the extensive damage caused by deep slash marks on the surrounding structures. He also observed that Mr. F carried no weapon, a rare phenomenon among mages, but not impossible.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I ask both parties to accompany me to the station," the captain said firmly. He then turned to Mr. F and continued, "I assure you that a fair judgment will be made if you come with us now."

Mr. F wasn't sure if he could trust the man, but something about him suggested that he was the kind of person who was driven by a strong sense of justice.

"Very well, I'll come with you," Mr. F agreed. The captain seemed relieved, but he quickly turned to the two nobles.

"What… What are you looking at us for? He's the criminal!" Daimen protested, his voice tinged with panic.

The captain drew his sword. "I need statements from everyone involved. Even if you were the baron himself, I would still bring you in for questioning right here and now."

"Don't you know who we are?" Daimen's sister snapped.

The captain was about to respond when a middle-aged man, accompanied by a woman in elegant evening attire, appeared.

"Of course, he knows who you are, you idiot!" the man snapped. "That's Markus, the commander of the city guard!"

"I pay my respects to the honorable commander of the city guard," the elegantly dressed man, now identified as Levi, said with a courteous bow.

"Ah, Master Levi, it's been a while since I've had the pleasure. How are you and your wife?" Markus responded with a hint of familiarity.

"We're doing well, aside from a few idiots who unfortunately share the same blood as my wife and me."

"Father!" Daimen shouted, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Silence! Both of you. I don't want to hear another word from either of you."

"Listen, Captain Markus," Levi continued, "I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Perhaps we can all just forget this ever happened?"

Markus glanced around at the destroyed shops and damaged houses. "And who is going to take responsibility for the damages if we simply forget about this?"

Levi responded smoothly, "Well, I believe the damage was caused during the skirmish between my foolish son and this gentleman here. It would only be fair to divide the costs evenly between both parties."

"Fine by me," Markus said as he turned to Mr. F. "You will need to come with us to verify your identity and ensure that you can cover the costs of the damages. If not, you'll be detained until further notice."

Daimen's initial anger at his father's apparent betrayal began to fade as he realized his father's cunning plan. They would only have to pay half the damages, and in return, the old man would rot in a cell. It couldn't have worked out better.

"So, that's how it is," Mr. F suddenly spoke up. "And do I get a say in this matter? Because I believe the young man should be held responsible for the entire damage."

Daimen's temper flared again as he shouted, "Don't be ridiculous, old man! The damage was caused during our duel!"

"Duel?" Mr. F echoed. "When did I ever fight back? As far as I know, you suddenly attacked me and destroyed everything around you. What does that have to do with me?"

Daimen hesitated, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He had no response.

But his father intervened at that moment. "And can you prove that? After all, there are no witnesses to the fight other than my two children and yourself. You could claim anything, and there would be no evidence to support it."

Hearing this, Daimen echoed his father's words. "Exactly, exactly. Where's your proof?"

"Proof?" Mr. F replied, his voice calm. "Of course, I have proof." At that moment, a small artifact floated down from a nearby rooftop into Mr. F's hand.

"Telekinesis," the captain thought to himself. "So, he's a Rank 6 mage."

It was only now that Daimen realized he had been thoroughly outclassed. The man had been toying with him from the start, not even taking him seriously.

The artifact floated from Mr. F's hand towards Markus. At that moment, Master Levi lunged forward, attempting to snatch the artifact, but Markus deftly maneuvered around him.

With his weapon drawn, Markus asked the nobleman, "What are you trying to do, Lord Levi?"

Levi quickly retracted his hand, searching for an excuse. "I thought for a moment it was an explosive artifact. I only wanted to ensure your safety and that of my family."

"Lord Levi, you know as well as I do that this is an artifact that records the surroundings. You have my respect as a Rank 6 mage, but if you try something like that again, I will have you arrested."

"Of course, of course," Levi replied, trying to maintain his composure.

Markus took the artifact and activated it with his mana. What followed was a recording showing Daimen attacking Mr. F, with Mr. F never once retaliating.

"As you can see, gentlemen, I am innocent," Mr. F stated calmly.

Levi made one last attempt to drag Mr. F down with him. "But you're still at fault! I saw your telekinesis! You're obviously a Rank 6 mage, and you could have minimized the damage or stopped my son with a single strike!"

"I could have done that," Mr. F admitted, "but what would have happened next? A wounded noble, attacked in the night by an unknown mage, sentenced to death?"

"No, thank you."

Levi knew he was defeated, but he still had one card to play. "Listen, Captain Markus, I'll cover all the damages and compensate the victims double. Can we just let this go?"

Markus considered the offer for a moment and decided to agree. After all, no one had been injured. But Mr. F had other plans.

"Wait a minute, gentlemen," Mr. F interjected. "What do you mean by saying no one was injured? I was attacked in the open street, and I only survived because my magical power was greater than my opponent's. And now I'm supposed to just let this go? Besides, I believe I've suffered emotional trauma. I feel so weak; I can barely stand."

Levi's temple vein throbbed with increasing intensity as he listened. His idiot son had already caused damage that would cost him several thousand gold coins, and now he was dealing with a charlatan.

With a forced smile, Levi asked, "And how might we resolve this problem?"