Martin had devised a plan that involved using magic ink to inscribe a fire magic matrix onto Kerry's enchanted armor. This ink was not just any ordinary substance; it was a specialized material capable of materializing magic matrices. Typically, these matrices were drawn on parchment to create potent scrolls, but in this case, the enchanted armor itself provided a suitable canvas.

The magic ink required precise craftsmanship, and Martin was fortunate that Kerry’s armor met the necessary standards. Among the scrolls that had been salvaged from the aftermath of the previous confrontation, some were infused with extra magic ink, skillfully contained within cotton balls wrapped in oil paper. Martin, using the life magic spell [Dust Removal], was able to manipulate the cotton ball of magic ink with remarkable precision. As he worked, he inscribed the fire magic matrix directly onto Kerry’s armor, a feat not easily accomplished, especially for a low-level magician.

Once completed, the matrix awaited activation, which would draw from the ambient magic energy around them. When the magic was finally channeled into the matrix, flames erupted, engulfing Kerry in a fiery blaze.

The enchantments within Kerry's armor, designed to harness and sustain magic, had only intensified the flames. The fire was relentless, and as it licked at his body, Kerry’s shouts of panic echoed through the air. Unlike a standard flame curse that would extinguish after a short duration, this fire was fed by the residual magic in the armor, becoming an unyielding inferno.

The crowd that had gathered stood in shock. They had anticipated a straightforward confrontation, but Martin's unexpected tactic had turned the tables. Was this a high-level spell ? The rumors whispered among the onlookers suggested it was a flame that would only extinguish when its target was consumed.

“Kerry! Kerry!” Busca cried out, grinding his teeth in desperation as he rushed toward Martin. "What have you done? Put out the fire on my son!"

“Alright,” Martin replied calmly, though his heart raced at the sight of the chaos he had unleashed. He had prepared for this moment, and yet he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow. “But first, I need that contract.”

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“What contract?” Busca’s eyes darted between his son and Martin, panic etched across his face.

“Your son is a fourth-order swordsman. I imagine he can endure for a few more minutes,” Martin stated, his voice steady.

Busca, sweat dripping from his brow, fumbled through his pocket and produced a scroll of yellowed paper. “Here! Just put out the fire!”

Martin unfurled the contract, his eyes scanning the contents. The moment he saw Busca’s signature, he tore it in half, relishing the moment. “You’ve given me the contract. Now put out the flames!”

“Don’t play games with me! You need to help my son!” Busca shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.

“Not yet,” Martin replied coolly. “You’ve caused significant disruption to Anthony’s magic shop. You owe us for the losses incurred. I’d say one hundred gold coins would be fair.”

“Are you mad?” Busca exclaimed. “One hundred gold coins? Do you expect me to just hand that over?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” Martin asked, smirking. “Time is running out.”

As Kerry continued to writhe in agony, Busca’s resolve crumbled. He took a deep breath and reluctantly reached into his pocket, pulling out a brass-colored card, the emblem of the Goblin Bank. “This represents one hundred gold coins. Just take it!”

Martin accepted the card, shoving it into his pocket. He could see the horror etched on Debbie’s face as she realized the magnitude of the transaction.

“Now, extinguish my son’s flames!” Busca demanded, his voice trembling.

“Of course,” Martin replied, his demeanor shifting to that of a calm spellcaster. He raised his wand and uttered a spell, “Water!”

A gentle stream of water materialized, cascading over Kerry's burning form. The flames hissed and sputtered, succumbing to the onslaught of water. In moments, the fire was extinguished, leaving Kerry gasping for air, his once-pristine armor now charred and battered.

Kerry collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. His face was singed, and his once-glorious armor resembled that of a battered warrior rather than a proud swordsman.

Busca was left speechless, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend what had just transpired. “You... you tricked me!” he stammered, finally realizing the extent of Martin’s deception.

“I’m just a second-order magician. What kind of powerful spells could I possibly wield?” Martin replied, a smug smile creeping across his face. “Your son is fine. He’s simply been through the equivalent of a training exercise. A bit of fear is good for the soul, after all.”

Busca clenched his fists, the sound of his teeth grinding echoing in the tense silence. He had been outmaneuvered, and the realization stung more than the flames had.