“Look at you! Relying on Mage instead of facing me in a fair fight? Pathetic!” Kerry taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. He turned to Martin, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll take over from here.”

Martin wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the weight of the situation. “Is this really necessary?” he replied, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

“It’s fine, I’ve been through worse,” Debbie interjected, her voice steady despite the tension. Her gaze locked onto Kerry, who was now rising from the wreckage of the carriage, anger radiating from him as he gripped his sword tightly, ready to retaliate.

With a swift motion, Martin grabbed Debbie's shoulder and pulled her behind him. “You need to stay back. I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?” Debbie’s voice was laced with doubt, her eyes searching his face for reassurance.

“Trust me, I’ve got this,” Martin replied, trying to sound confident. As he spoke, Kerry lunged forward, his black iron armor gleaming ominously in the light. A deep gash marred the chest plate, a testament to Debbie's earlier attack. Fury ignited in Kerry’s eyes as he traced the jagged line with his fingers.

“Don’t think you can just walk away from this!” he shouted, his grip on the sword tightening, the tremor of rage evident in his hands. The armor, a prized possession provided by the city, had suffered an insult it was not designed to withstand.

Feeling the tension in the air, Martin pushed Debbie aside gently, his own resolve hardening. Digging into his bag, he pulled out a small object, his expression calm. “Your next opponent is me.”

The onlookers felt the air grow thick with tension. Kerry, now fully enraged, advanced slowly, his presence overwhelming. The crowd held its breath, unsure how a young magician like Martin could stand against a seasoned swordsman.

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In that moment, Martin pulled out a small magic scroll, his heart racing. He had prepared for this. “Catch!” he shouted, tossing the scroll towards Kerry.

Kerry’s reflexes kicked in, and he reached out to grab the object, smirking. “You think you can attack me with—”

“Boom!”

The fire magic scroll erupted into a blaze, the flames enveloping Kerry’s hand almost instantly. He screamed as the fire scorched his skin, and he desperately tried to extinguish the flames. Despite the protection of his armor, the magic had found its mark.

“Magic scroll!” Busca shouted, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The crowd gasped, astonished that a mere shopkeeper's apprentice could wield such power. Magic scrolls were a luxury, and the idea of using one in a street fight was almost unheard of.

Kerry finally managed to smother the flames, revealing a swollen, blistered hand that throbbed with pain. His fury intensified, his face contorted with rage. “You dare use magic against me?”

Martin, feeling a surge of confidence, smiled. “No one said it was forbidden. Besides, I didn’t think you’d be so easy to provoke.”

Time rewound to three days prior in Anthony’s magical shop.

“This is a magic scroll?” Martin mused, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on the task before him. He meticulously followed the template, inscribing intricate magical symbols on the parchment using a special quill dipped in enchanted ink. The process was delicate, and any mistake could ruin the entire scroll.

Old George had taught him the importance of precision, and now, with his past experience in coding, Martin found himself surprisingly adept at this new craft.

As he wrote, he recalled the complex spells he had once created, marveling at how different yet similar this was. The art of crafting a magic scroll was not just about writing; it required a deep understanding of magical theory and a steady hand.

“Let’s see how powerful this scroll can be,” he thought, his determination growing. After a mere twenty minutes of focused effort, he had produced the fire magic scroll.

With a sense of satisfaction, he activated the scroll in the privacy of the shop's back room, a brilliant explosion of flame illuminating the space. “Not bad,” he muttered, impressed by the potency of his creation.

Now, standing before Kerry, Martin felt the weight of his own courage. He had prepared for this moment, and despite the fear swirling within him, he was ready to face the consequences of his actions. The streets of Stan bore witness to the clash between magic and might, and Martin was determined to stand his ground.