Quinn was struck by the "lightning" spell cast by Martin , crashing into a nearby shelf. The wooden structure splintered, sending an array of gadgets tumbling to the floor. A sword clattered and lodged itself into the wall, leaving Quinn sprawled among the debris. The soft cloth armor covering his chest was scorched and smoldering, a testament to the spell's impact. Though he was not fatally injured, he was in no condition to rise anytime soon.
In Anthony's magical hut, silence enveloped the room, the aftermath of the spell leaving everyone stunned.
[Lightning] was a basic first-level spell, its destructive power limited, yet it had sent a second-level swordsman like Quinn flying. This was a clear indication that Leaf had mastered the spell to an extraordinary degree.
It was common knowledge that even the slightest mistake in casting could lead to a spell’s failure, but Martin had struggled to cast [Lightning] moments before.
"Unbelievable... this has to be a fluke," Busca, the self-proclaimed boss, finally broke the silence, his finger jabbing at Martin. "He just cast that spell by accident. I did my homework; he’s just a magician—he can’t do any real damage!"
“Locke, attack him! He won’t be able to cast again!”
“Lightning!” Martin shouted, pointing his wand at Busca. A silver-white bolt shot forth, leaving no room for mercy. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar satisfaction at the thought of teaching the greedy businessman a lesson.
Before the lightning could reach Busca, a shimmering barrier appeared before him—a defensive spell activated just in time. The barrier shattered with a loud crack, sending shards of light scattering. Even so, a tendril of electricity arced toward Busca, causing his frizzy red hair to stand on end and leaving him with a scorched mark across his cheek.
“You... you broke my ‘crystal guardian’ spell! That cost me thirty silver coins!” he stammered, his bravado slipping as he examined the remnants of his defense.
Martin’s expression hardened. He turned his gaze to Locke, the hulking swordsman who had been standing nearby. When their eyes met, Locke flinched, instinctively raising his sword.
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“I’m not afraid of your magic!” Locke shouted, though his voice trembled slightly.
“I don’t want to fight you, but I will,” Martin replied coolly, gesturing toward the incapacitated Quinn.
Locke’s confidence wavered. He had previously dismissed Martin because he believed he lacked any real offensive spells. But now, witnessing Martin’s command of [Lightning], he understood the threat posed by the magician.
Locke reluctantly stepped forward to help Quinn, casting wary glances at Martin and Debbie.
“Busca, you can’t let them get away with this! My son is coming back from the capital in three days. He’s a four-level swordsman, and he will level your magical hut!” Busca blustered, though the fear in his eyes betrayed him.
“Do you think I won’t destroy you right here, right now?” Martin's wand flicked menacingly, a smile creeping across his lips.
Busca’s bravado crumbled, and he stumbled out of the hut, followed closely by Locke, who was dragging Quinn behind him.
“Don’t let them escape! I still have tricks up my sleeve!” Locke shouted, but Martin was already focused on Debbie, the girl with the giant sword.
“Wait,” Martin called, grabbing Debbie’s shoulder. He was acutely aware of his dwindling energy reserves; he could only manage one more [Lightning] spell before collapsing.
With a final surge of determination, he directed his attention to Quinn. He couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.
As the exhaustion washed over him, Martin felt himself losing consciousness. His last thought was a mix of regret and longing; he didn't want to faint, but if he had to, it would be near Debbie.
---
When Martin awoke, he found himself lying on a bed. The pounding in his head had faded, replaced by a dull ache. He stared at the wooden beams overhead, the bizarre events flooding back to him. From hacker to magician to fighting alongside a girl wielding a sword—the transition felt surreal.
It must have been a dream. But as he turned his head and saw Debbie sitting at his bedside, he realized it was all too real.
After exhausting his mental energy, she must have taken care of him. He had no doubt of her strength after witnessing her in battle.
Cautiously, he sat up, still groggy from sleep.
“Are you awake?” Debbie asked, her eyes brightening. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, and despite her earlier ferocity, she looked quite adorable.
“Yeah, I’m back to normal,” Martin replied with a smile.
“Are you sure you don’t need to rest?” she pressed, concern lacing her voice.
“No, I’m fine now,” Martin assured her, appreciating her caring nature.
“Good! Then hurry up! I’m starving!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with enthusiasm, and Martin couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike exuberance.