The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 86 - 87: Doubt
Hutson swung himself onto his horse, his movements swift and practiced.
Behind him, Robert scrambled to do the same, mounting his own steed in a hurry.
Before setting off, Hutson turned in his saddle and cast a final glance at One Line Sky Gorge.
Even from here, the once-clear pass was now choked with dense undergrowth, as if nature had devoured the road overnight.
"Robert, look over there."
Robert followed his gaze, his eyes widening in shock.
"What the—? How did it end up like this?!"
His face twisted into a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
The path had been open when they arrived. Now, it was an impassable thicket.
It made no sense.
Robert looked like he had just seen a ghost—which, in a way, he probably had.
Hutson let out a breath.
"So, it’s not just me. The world really did change overnight."
There was no denying it now.
Something was fundamentally wrong with that place.
"Let’s move."
With a light pull of the reins and a tap of his heel, Hutson urged his horse forward.
The two riders galloped away from Creek Valley Town, leaving the cursed land behind.
As the wind rushed past him, Hutson’s thoughts churned.
He still didn’t understand the full truth behind that town.
But one thing was certain—it was beyond his current strength to explore further.
The mysteries still buried there—the lost souls, the reality shifts, the monstrous entities lurking beneath the surface—would have to wait.
Someday, when he was stronger, he would return.
For now, survival was enough.
In truth, he had only made it out by sheer luck.
If he hadn’t encountered the blacksmith, hadn’t bought him that drink at the tavern, he might have never escaped the clutches of the little girl’s deadly embrace.
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
High risk, high reward.
He hadn’t left empty-handed.
Among his spoils were a trove of high-grade alchemical ingredients—materials that would fetch a fortune once he returned to Moonlight Woodland and sold them to Larry.
But more valuable than all of that—was the Ancient Magic Tablet.
Hutson’s fingers instinctively tightened around the reins.
This... was something he couldn’t tell anyone about.
Not even Larry, his mentor.
The ancient inscriptions carved into the stone held a Tier-One Spell, a power so advanced that he wasn’t even qualified to read it yet.
To even begin deciphering it, he needed to advance to a Rank-Three Sorcerer’s Apprentice, bringing his mental strength closer to that of a full-fledged sorcerer.
It would take time, but Hutson wasn’t in a hurry.
Power required patience.
Until then, he would study.
AI chip contained vast amounts of knowledge—most of it drawn from the libraries of Moonlight Woodland.
Ancient Magic was still an enigma to him. He needed to learn more.
Behind him, Robert rode in uneasy silence.
His expression was dark, his thoughts unspoken.
He didn’t know what had happened to him, and he was too afraid to ask.
But there was one thing he couldn’t ignore.
"M’lord... my neck, my arms, my legs... they ache."
Robert shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, rolling his shoulders.
"Feels like someone hacked at me with an axe."
Hutson’s grip on the reins tightened.
Pain in his neck? His limbs?
A chill crept through him.
Last night, he had seen Robert’s severed arm on that dining table.
He had seen his dismembered body.
"Did Robert actually get torn apart? But if that’s true... how is he still alive?"
Hutson glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
For now, it didn’t matter.
If he told Robert what he had seen, it wouldn’t help him—it would only terrify him further.
So Hutson remained silent.
The only thing that mattered now was leaving the nightmare behind.
They rode hard for two days.
Finally—Stormwind City came into view.
As the silhouette of the towering walls emerged on the horizon, both of them felt a weight lift from their shoulders.
The sight of crowded streets, merchants calling out their wares, and children playing in the alleys felt almost... unreal.
For a moment, Hutson simply listened.
The noise of bickering vendors, the distant laughter of drunks, even the cries of a child being scolded by their mother—
It was all so ordinary.
So... alive.
Robert let out a long, relieved sigh.
"Feels like we’ve returned to the real world."
Hutson didn’t answer.
Instead, he headed straight for the Adventurer’s Guild.
As they stepped into the familiar guild hall, nothing had changed.
The first floor was still crowded with adventurers, voices filling the air with stories of quests, battles, and the pursuit of wealth.
Hutson strode forward, grabbing the sleeve of a passing guild worker.
"Where is Miro?"
The young guild member frowned, clearly annoyed—until he spotted Robert standing behind Hutson.
Robert, a Knight-level warrior, was acting like a silent bodyguard—an unsettling sight. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢
The man’s expression immediately shifted from irritation to cautious respect.
"Vice President Miro is upstairs, sir. Would you like me to inform him?"
"No need."
Hutson released his grip and headed straight to the second floor.
Robert followed without a word.
As they passed, he gave the guild worker a casual smirk, as if to say—you got lucky.
Hutson reached Miro’s office and knocked once—
Then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.
Inside, Miro sat comfortably on a leather couch, a book in hand and a steaming cup of coffee on the table.
His eyes flickered up in surprise.
"Hutson? You’re back."
Hutson didn’t bother with pleasantries.
He dropped into the chair across from Miro and leaned forward, his gaze sharp.
"The records on Creek Valley Town—are you absolutely sure you gave me everything?"
Miro raised an eyebrow.
"What’s this about?"
Hutson’s voice was cold.
"Because everyone in that town is dead. And they have been for a long time."
Miro’s fingers tightened around his book.
For the first time, his calm demeanor wavered.
Hutson watched him carefully.
If Miro had withheld information, now was the time to come clean.
Because Hutson had walked through a town of ghosts.
And he wasn’t sure he had fully escaped it yet.
Hutson narrowed his eyes.
"After all these years, I refuse to believe I’m the only one who’s gone there."
The Creek Valley Town anomaly couldn’t have gone unnoticed for so long.
A place like that—where the dead still walked, where reality itself unraveled—there was no way the Adventurer’s Guild hadn’t lost people there before.
Even if ordinary travelers never returned, surely other adventurers had investigated over the years.
Yet, if Miro knew something, he was hiding it well.
Hutson wasn’t buying it.
"The guild is too big to be unaware of something that dangerous," he thought.
If Miro really had given him all the records, why did it feel like key information was missing?
Miro met his gaze evenly. "I swear, I gave you everything."
His tone was casual, almost indifferent.
"There’s nothing unusual about that place. Just a town abandoned decades ago. Nothing worth looking into."
Hutson’s stomach turned.
What?
That wasn’t what Miro had said before.
Two days ago, he had spoken about Creek Valley Town as if it were still active.
Now, he was treating it like it had been dead for years.
Miro’s face was calm, composed—too composed.
Hutson’s fingers twitched at his side. Was this a game?
Robert’s brows furrowed in confusion, clearly sensing the contradiction too.
Miro hesitated. "Did something happen out there?"
His gaze flickered between Hutson and Robert, noticing how tense they had become.
Hutson forced himself to breathe.
He couldn’t lose his temper.
"Two days ago, you told me it was just a normal town. A small settlement, nothing more."
His voice was low, controlled.
"You never mentioned it had been abandoned for decades."
Miro didn’t flinch.
He shook his head immediately.
"Impossible. Everyone knows what happened to that town.
Years ago, Creek Valley was raided by a band of thieves. The entire population was slaughtered. The town was burned to the ground."
Hutson’s jaw clenched.
Robert let out a sharp breath, his hands gripping his belt as if grounding himself.
Because if what Miro said was true—
Then what the hell had they seen?
