MLMAS 04

Chapter – 04

Croft ignored the werewolf and turned his head to check on Mari.

The child seemed to be in shock from what had just happened—she stood stiffly frozen, unable even to blink.

Croft let out a long sigh, as if drawing on deep reserves of patience.

“I’m certain of it. There’s no one else who can use aerial spells! But why would Lord Omito’s—!”

The werewolf couldn’t finish his sentence.

At some point, Croft’s pipe ash had begun swirling in a perfect circle at his feet. Terror sealed the creature’s mouth shut.

With the casual air of someone tidying up trash, Croft flicked his pipe.

A spell circle—one Mari recognized—formed beneath the werewolves.

A teleportation spell.

The circle carved itself into existence in an instant, flared with bright light, and the werewolves vanished along with it.

Silence, uneasy and heavy, fell over the dark cave.

Croft trudged toward the iron bars and conjured a small floating light to peer inside.

As expected, children of various ages trembled in fear within the cell. From toddlers barely three or four years old to teenagers… After scanning them, Croft raised his hand and slashed downward.

The iron bars collapsed with a deafening crash.

The children screamed and scrambled backward.

Croft spoke calmly.

“Who’s Shasha?”

The faint sobbing stopped. All the children turned in unison toward one spot.

At the end of their gaze stood a small girl with short, curly blond hair, wearing dirty clothes and fidgeting with her shoes.

When her eyes met Croft’s, she froze and began trembling violently.

After a brief hesitation, Croft extended his hand.

“Let’s go. Your sister is waiting.”

“…My sister?”

“Yes. Mariposa. That’s your sister, right?”

Shasha’s tearful eyes widened. She sniffled, glanced around at the others, then swallowed hard.

At last, she slowly stood and looked at Croft.

He took a step forward. The children parted instinctively, thinking he was about to use magic again, forming a path. Shasha walked unsteadily down it.

“My sister… really here?”

“Come and see. She’s right over—”

Croft pointed toward where Mari had been standing.

But she wasn’t there.

Only his white cloak, now gray with dust, lay on the ground.

The blood drained from his body.

As Croft quickly scanned the surroundings in alarm, Mari suddenly came running from behind and threw herself around Shasha.

“Shasha!”

“Unni!”

Mari burst into tears, clutching her little sister tightly, pouring out all the fear and grief she had endured.

Croft, who had nearly lost his composure, let out a deep breath and gestured for them to move.

“You—never mind. Let’s go. We need to leave.”

“Shasha… I was so worried. I—I really…”

“Unniii! I was so scared. Those scary people… they—and unniii!”

Shasha began crying even louder, tears and snot streaming down her face.

As if relief were contagious, the other children who had feared Croft relaxed and began crying too.

Good grief.

Croft stared blankly at the sobbing children, then raked a hand through his hair and grabbed Mari’s shoulder.

“Mariposa. We’re leaving. Take your sister and follow me.”

“Hic—but… Mr. Mage, what about them?”

Mari wiped her tears and looked up.

Croft answered coldly.

“They’re not our concern. Your request was to rescue your sister. Nothing more.”

Mari’s green eyes widened.

She glanced between the cage and Croft, then shook her head.

“N-no. If we leave them here, they might get captured again!”

“Yes. And if we stay like this, you’ll be captured too. Listen to me. We have to go.”

“But they must have families too…!”

Mari couldn’t understand.

He had such power—so why wouldn’t he save them?

Overwhelmed by emotion, she clutched his clothes.

“Mr. Mage, I won’t bother you anymore. Please… save them too.”

“No. There are reasons. Stop arguing and come here.”

Is saving people considered arguing?

Mari might have grown up in poverty, but she knew right from wrong.

If you have the power—if you can do it—you should save them.

But Croft had saved Shasha. He said he had reasons.

What could she possibly do?

When Mari finally let go of his clothes, Croft straightened.

The children crawled out of the broken cell, crying and pleading.

“Please take us too!”

“Help us! It’s too scary here!”

Croft clicked his tongue and opened his mouth to speak—

“Croft Lin!”

A booming voice called his name.

“Damn it.”

He turned, scowling.

A pillar of golden light erupted behind him.

“How many times is this now?! This time it’s beastfolk? Why don’t you just tour the entire world casting spells while you’re at it?!”

A sturdy old man stepped out of the light, gray hair slicked back neatly, a beard shaped like a ship’s anchor on his chin, wielding a staff.

Croft pulled the children behind him.

“I took a request. The children were captured by werewolves.”

“And what exactly is your magic consultation office for? Consultations! You’re supposed to consult!”

Behind the old man appeared a woman with long black hair braided forward and glasses perched on her nose. She floated a sheet of paper in the air, writing on it.

She tore something off the page and flicked her fountain pen.

The torn-off writing—squirming like a worm—flew toward Croft.

“By order of exile, you are placed under house arrest for thirty-six days.”

Croft didn’t answer.

Before the writhing letters could coil around his neck, he spun his pipe and formed a spell circle beneath his feet.

White and blue light flared, stirring the damp cave air.

The old man’s eyes widened in fury.

“You’re casting magic in front of the Overseers? Are you insane?!”

“Croft Lin, cease your spellcasting immediately.”

Both of them pulled out long scrolls covered in intricate symbols.

Croft smirked, covering the wriggling letters at his throat with one hand.

“I have to go home and serve my suspension, don’t I? Good luck. The rest of the children are yours.”

“What? You insolent brat—!”

The woman hurriedly stabbed her pen into the scroll—

But Croft’s spell was faster.

He grabbed Mari and Shasha.

And they vanished.

The light disappeared.

The old man pressed a hand to his forehead.

The woman sighed, looking at the still-crying children.

“Lord Pupa, we need to evacuate them before the werewolves return. Shall I request reinforcements?”

“Do whatever you want. That blasted teleportation…”

He grumbled, smoothing his hair compulsively.

“At least he accepted the suspension. The backlash from that spell will be severe. He’s probably the only one who could even cast after being struck by it.”

“That’s the problem. Before his suspension ends, he’ll start taking consultation requests again. Damn it… How many years has this been? Chasing after a Grand Mage at my age… No shame at all.”

The woman smiled faintly and began writing:

[February 3rd, 1:14 a.m. — Croft Lin vanished with the mage children. Location presumed to be his antique shop. Further verification required.]

“Gah!”

In a flash of teleportation, Croft and Mari stumbled and collapsed in front of the antique shop.

Only Shasha remained relatively steady, blinking in confusion.

“Unni, where are we? How did we get here?”

“W-wait, Shasha… my head…”

The first teleport hadn’t been too bad.

This one felt like her skull was splitting open.

“Mr. Mage… my head hurts… Mr. Mage?”

Croft was drenched in cold sweat, clutching his neck.

Even as her vision spun, Mari noticed the writhing letters on his throat shifting beneath his hand.

“Why is the writing… moving?”

“We—we need to go inside. The shop…”

Croft grabbed her wrist, gasping.

His voice trembled—nothing like the calm tone from moments ago.

Mari forgot her own pain and tried to support him.

But a nine-year-old couldn’t properly hold up a grown man.

Even with Shasha’s help, they struggled at the door.

Only after Croft regained a bit of composure and forced himself inside did the rescue mission of Shasha finally come to an end.