A Day Later…
Alex and Marc were traveling on the road in the northeast of Perrin's Gate. They were about to reach the bridge that crossed the river, which marked the halfway point of their journey.
Both were meditating—Alex on Senturion control and Marc on dust gathering, the beginner's mana gathering technique for the earth element.
While both were meditating, they suddenly heard a voice shout.
"STOP!"
Both opened their eyes and poked their heads out of the window to see what was going on.
When they looked forward, they saw a group of rugged-looking dudes on the bridge.
"Ain't no way…" said Alex. He didn't know what kind of fool would try to rob people on the open road without even knowing who they were.
"Okay, let's go…" Alex said to Marc, still looking at the bandits.
"Wait," replied Marc.
"Why?"
"They still haven't said the phrase!" Marc said, excited.
"…Really?" Alex couldn't believe Marc was so thrilled about their first attempt at being robbed.
"DROP ALL THE MONEY AND LEAVE ALL THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN AND YOU MAY GET TO LIVE!" the bandit shouted again.
"Whoo!" Marc celebrated, waving his fists in the air.
"Can we go now?" Alex asked. He was starting to get bored and wanted to resume the trip.
Marc nodded, and both of them left the carriage, walking in front of it.
"Why don't you piss off before blood spills?" said Alex. He wanted to avoid unnecessary killing if possible.
"Fuck you! Give me your belongings or die!" the bandit replied.
"OK," Alex said.
Without skipping a beat, he raised his hand and cast Windslicer.
At 100% mastery, he needed only 0.2 seconds to cast. So he fired five shots in a second, spending two hundred-something mana.
The first bandit got sliced in half—with *blood and intestines dropping from him, his lower half falling backward while his upper half dropped forward. He screamed in pain, but not many minutes later, he died from blood loss, his eyes still open.*
The second dude tried to dodge, tilting his head sideways, but the spell still struck him as he was too slow—*his head split open from the mouth upward, his brain mixed with blood spilling from the wound as he fell limp to the ground.*
The third man managed to dodge most of the skill, but still got one arm severed. He screamed as blood poured onto the ground.
The rest of the men managed to dodge the attack.
There were now four bandits remaining.
"He should've spent all his mana on those attacks! Charge!" the leader yelled—and he couldn't have been more wrong.
As the bandits closed in, three aimed for Alex and one for Marc.
"You're looking down on me?" Marc was pissed at the fact that he was treated as the lesser threat.
As the bandit slashed at him, Marc sidestepped easily, then used Fire Fist, striking him in the ribs. After the punch connected, a boom echoed, and the *bandit's chest exploded inward, bits and pieces of flesh scattering from the other side of his torso.* He was sent flying a few meters, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
On the other side, Alex was preparing to cast Water Shield. The moment the bandit raised his sword to slash down, Alex activated the spell, and a water sphere surrounded him. It spun fast—so fast that when the blade hit, the man's arm jerked sideways, nearly cutting his ally instead.
"He still has mana!" one of the bandits shouted.
"Hey, fuckers, I feel left out." Marc suddenly appeared from behind them, his fist already on its way to a bandit's face. The moment the punch landed, *the man's head exploded like a bloody firework of gray matter.*
The remaining bandits, startled, turned toward Marc for a split second—but that was a mistake. Alex had left their line of sight. When one of them turned back toward where Alex had been, what he saw was a mass of compressed wind rushing toward him at high speed.
The Windslicer did as its name implied, *slicing the man's head from the mouth horizontally. His eyes remained wide open as he collapsed, not even realizing he was dead.*
The one-armed bandit, trembling, tried to retreat.
"Pl-please, merc—" He was cut short by Marc, who got behind him and, channeling mana through his body, twisted the man's head abruptly—shattering his neck and killing him instantly.
After the massacre, Alex used water magic to move the corpses out of the way before returning to the carriage they'd rented.
When they climbed back in, they were met by the incredulous gaze of the coachman, who was seriously questioning who the real victims were in this situation.
Nevertheless, he said nothing and simply resumed driving, passing by the corpses in silence.
The next day, Alex and Marc arrived at Lyssan and got down from the carriage. They gave the coachman a one-gold-coin bonus.
"This is a tip for keeping a professional attitude—and for the trauma to come," Alex said.
The duo then approached the guards and, thanks to Marc's experience, registered for IDs without any issues.
Once inside the city, Alex was struck by how vastly different it was from a village.
Street lamps illuminated the roads, which were paved with stone bricks instead of dirt.
Most of the houses had light shining from within—the kind of light a candle could never make. The darkness of night barely touched this place; the streets were still alive with people, bustling as though it were midday.
"Huh? First time in a city?" Marc asked, noticing Alex's stunned expression.
"Yeah, I've never been to a city before—unlike you," Alex replied honestly.
"Hah, country bumpkin." Marc, of course, had a sacred duty to make fun of Alex whenever he could.
For once, Alex had no retort. He simply punched Marc in the side.
"Shut up. Let's go inn-hunting and see where to stay," Alex said.
After a while, they found an inn where they could stay for fifteen silvers per person.
After dinner, they both went to their respective rooms.
Marc went to shower and then directly to sleep.
Alex did the same, but before going to bed, he sat down to write Susan a letter, letting her know he had arrived safely in the city.
After sealing it, he finally lay down and drifted off. Tomorrow, they were heading to the academy to take the entrance test.