Arthur stood at the reception counter of the auction house, his expression calm as he handed over a bag filled with the required platinum coins. The attendant, a well-dressed elf with sharp features, took the pouch with a professional nod and carefully counted the amount using a spell before sliding over a rune-engraved wooden box.

“Here is your purchased item, sir,” the elf said smoothly. “The dragon core has been sealed with suppression runes to prevent mana leakage during transportation. Please be advised to store it properly.”

Arthur took the box and felt the dense mana even through the suppression runes. A treasure like this was bound to attract trouble, but he had already accounted for that.

Along with the dragon core, the spell scroll Mana Shield was also handed to him, neatly wrapped in enchanted silk to preserve its magical integrity. He tucked both items into his dimensional pocket without a second glance.

Finn let out a low whistle beside him. “I still can’t believe you actually bought it, Arthur. You know how many people would kill for a dragon core?”

Arthur nodded. “I know.”

Leon adjusted his sleeves and sighed. “Then I guess we should be expecting some unwanted guests.”

Arthur just gave a small smile and said. “Let them come.”

The trio walked out of the auction house, the cold night air greeting them as they stepped onto the busy streets of Brightwater. The city was still lively, the night was approaching, lanterns illuminating the roads with a warm glow, and groups of merchants and adventurers moving between taverns and shops.

However, Arthur could feel the eyes lurking in the shadows, the quiet figures blending into the crowds yet never straying too far.

Someone was definitely following them.

…

Inside one of the luxurious VIP lounges, a middle-aged man sat stiffly on a velvet sofa, his fingers drumming against his knee in frustration. His name was Elaric Bahram, the third son of Count Bahram. His thick mustache twitched in irritation as he stared at the two men kneeling before him. 

Dressed in black from head to toe, these men were not mere common thugs but trained assassins, both of them were fifth-circle mages, loyal to only Elaric. He had spent years building his own network of shadows, for situations like these where he cannot take action openly.

Elaric’s voice was filled with restrained fury. “That brat… ruined everything.” His fingers clenched into a fist. “I gathered every last bit of money, even borrowed from those damn merchants to buy the dragon core, and yet the brat dared to humiliate me like this!” 

He didn’t have much talent in terms of magic so when he heard about a dragon core being auctioned he was very excited and gathered all his money to try and win the dragon core. So when someone who looked young and did not belong to any noble family of this kingdom snatched the core while also humiliating him he became very angry.

The two men kneeling remained silent, awaiting orders.

Elaric took a deep breath before his expression turned cold. “Go and retrieve the dragon core. Kill him if you get the chance.”

The two assassins bowed their heads and said in unison. “Yes, my Lord.”  

In this short timespan he had already gathered information about Arthur. And he thought they should be enough to take care of an academy student. There was no information about Arthur other than him being a student of Velcrest Academy. As for the money Arthur took out, Elaric thought he must have had some fortuitous encounter.

As they swiftly exited the lounge, Elaric exhaled slowly, his mind racing with his next course of actions. ‘Once I have the dragon core, I can finally break past my magical limits… I won’t let some no-name brat take this from me.’ 

…

Meanwhile, in another VIP room, Count Varian Luthier the head of House Varian sat with a glass of fine wine, swirling it absentmindedly as he gazed out the window toward the bustling city. His advisor, a middle-aged man with sharp features and silver-rimmed glasses, stood beside him.

“My Lord, several groups have already taken an interest in the young man,” the advisor noted. “It is likely someone will make a move soon.”

Varian took a slow sip, his expression unreadable. “Send someone to watch… but do not interfere. I want to see who takes action first.”

The advisor nodded. “Understood.”

In yet another VIP room, the 9th Circle Mage Alistair Vayne, a renowned figure among the mage’s circle leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together. His disciple, a young noble mage, looked at him curiously.

“Master, should we attempt to acquire the dragon core?” the disciple asked.

Alistair chuckled. “No. I am more interested in the boy himself.” His eyes gleamed with intrigue. “Not many can casually bid over twenty thousand platinum. Either he has immense backing… or he is far more capable than he lets on. We will just watch for now.”

The disciple nodded and excused himself to send their observers.

The others in the VIP lounge also sent some of their subordinates to pay close attention to the situation that unfolds.

…

Arthur walked casually down the street, feeling the presence of his stalkers. They were trying to be subtle, but with his ‘Map’, he could see them all, moving along the rooftops, blending into the shadows of alleyways, and maintaining a cautious distance. Even without the ‘Map” he can feel few people following him.

“Arthur,” Leon muttered. “We’ve got company.”

Arthur nodded. “I know.”

Finn glanced back discreetly. “What do we do? Should we inform the instructors?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. This is my problem.”

Leon frowned. “You’re outnumbered. This isn’t some street brawl, Arthur. What if these guys wanted to kill you.”

Arthur smirked. “That just makes it more interesting.”

Arthur turned toward them with a serious expression. “You two head back to the academy. I’ll handle this and come back.”

Finn hesitated. “If you say so… but be careful.”

Leon and Finn exchanged looks, reluctant to leave him alone.

“Arthur…”

“I’ll be fine,” Arthur assured them. “They’re after the dragon core, not you. If you stay, you’ll just get dragged into something you’re not involved in.”

Leon clenched his jaw, but in the end, he relented. “Tch. Fine. But you better come back in one piece.”

Finn sighed, scratching the back of his head. “If you don’t come back within an hour we will inform the instructors.”

Arthur chuckled. “Alright.”

With that, Finn and Leon reluctantly left, making their way back to the academy while throwing occasional glances back at Arthur.

Inside the city, direct combat was prohibited by law. But he knew these nobles could twist the laws in their favour so he thought it was better to take the fight outside the city.

There, no rules would protect his pursuers.

With a casual pace, Arthur walked through the streets, heading towards the city gates.

…

The large stone gates of Brightwater loomed ahead, their iron reinforcements shone under the evening setting sun. The guards stationed there gave Arthur a passing glance but didn’t stop him as adventurers and merchants frequently leave the city, either for travel or personal matters.

As he stepped through the gates and out into the open plains beyond, the presence of his pursuers became more distinct.

They were no longer holding back.

He continued running at an even pace for several more minutes until he was a fair distance from the city walls. Then, he stopped.

A gust of wind passed through the open land, rustling the tall grass.

He turned around slowly. “Alright. You’ve followed me long enough. Come out.”

Silence.

Then, shadows flickered. Figures emerged from behind some trees.

Two individuals stepped forward, they were cloaked in black from head to toe not showing any affiliation to any noble families. Arthur thought they were likely assassins of some noble families.

Arthur cracked his neck.

“Well?” he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Are we doing this or not?”

One of the black-cloaked figures chuckled. “Confident, aren’t you?” His voice was deep, amused. “You must not know who you’re dealing with, brat.”

Arthur was bewildered at why they were talking so much, weren’t assassins supposed to strike first, but he thought they must be trying to probe information out of him. He said in a nonchalant way, “No. I just don’t care.”

And with that, he vanished from his position.

…

Just as Arthur left the city

A group of observers lingered near the city gates, watching as Arthur left the city. They were a mix of nobles’ subordinates, hired spies, and independent mages who had taken an interest in the unfolding drama.

One of them, a wiry young mage with a keen interest in gossip, frowned. “Why did the kid leave the city? Doesn’t he know it’s more dangerous outside?”

A burly man in leather armor, likely a mercenary, snorted. “Hah! That brat must have a death wish.”

Before the conversation could spiral further, an older martial artist, a grizzled man with scars tracing his forearms, scoffed. “You lot really can’t see past the surface, can you?” He crossed his arms and shook his head in disappointment. “Since you’re all mages, I don’t blame you, but you didn’t feel the terrifying amount of Chi in that kid’s body.”

There was a brief silence as the words settled in. The wiry mage blinked. “Chi? What do you mean?”

The martial artist exhaled sharply, like a teacher explaining something obvious to children. “It’s like staring at a sheathed sword and assuming it’s dull. That boy, his Chi is extremely dense. I don’t know why it appears to be static, as if he’s never used it, which should be impossible given the sheer amount he possesses. But make no mistake, he should be at least a High-grade martial artist, if not a Peak-grade one.”

That revelation sent a ripple of shock through the gathered onlookers.

“You’re joking, right?!” another mage blurted out. “That kid does not appear to be much older. A High-grade martial artist at that age? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Tch,” another scoffed. “And Elaric thought he was dealing with some lucky academy brat. He really hit a wall this time.”

“Heh. Serves him right,” a noble’s retainer chuckled. “Throwing money around like an idiot, only to get humiliated. Now he’s losing more than just his coins.”

The group exchanged knowing smirks, their interest now piqued.

“Well, we might as well watch the fireworks,” the wiry mage said, adjusting his cloak. “Come on, let’s see how this plays out.”

And so, they followed.

…

By the time they arrived at the scene, they were just in time to witness the first clash.

Arthur had just vanished from his spot, and in the blink of an eye, reappeared inches from one of the assassins, his fist already in motion.

Boom!

The force of his punch sent a shockwave through the night air. The assassin barely had time to react before Arthur’s fist crashed into his ribs, sending him skidding backward through the dirt, tumbling like a broken doll. He coughed violently, blood spraying from his lips as he slammed into a tree.

The second assassin, reacting on instinct, flicked his fingers, casting a high-speed wind blade at Arthur’s exposed side.

But Arthur was already moving.

He twisted mid-air, his academy uniform fluttering as he dodged with effortless precision. The wind blade sliced through empty space, hitting nothing but the ground and kicking up dust.

Arthur landed lightly on his feet and rolled his shoulders. “Is that all?” he asked, his tone mocking.

The standing assassin tensed, realizing they had made a grave mistake. This wasn’t some naive academy student they were dealing with. They finally started to take the situation seriously.

***

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