The bell above the door of the "Rusty Spoon" jingled aggressively as the lunchtime rush hit its peak. The air inside was thick with the smell of roasted onions, cheap ale, and wet wool.
"Lencar! Three mutton stews and a pitcher of water for table four!" Rebecca shouted, balancing a precarious tower of dirty plates.
"Understood," Lencar replied from the kitchen pass.
He moved with the rhythmic precision of a metronome. His hands, forged to crush stone, were currently dicing carrots into perfectly identical cubes. He plated the stew, garnished it with a sprig of parsley (an unnecessary touch that the owner grumbled about but the customers loved), and handed the tray to Rebecca.
To the world, he was Lencar, the failed mage from the boonies, working hard to send copper coins back to his starving parents. He was the polite, quiet boy who helped Rebecca with her unruly siblings and kept the kitchen spotless.
But beneath the apron, the Heretic was running a constant background scan.
Through the grease-stained window of the kitchen, Lencar's eyes tracked a figure loitering across the street.
Target Identified.
The man was leaning against a rain barrel, picking his teeth with a dagger. He wore a ragged fur coat that had seen better days, and his eyes darted nervously left and right. To the average citizen of Nairn, he was just another drifter.
But Lencar knew better. Two days ago, during a supply run to the capital's lower district—disguised in a black cloak and a plain wooden mask—Lencar had purchased a "bounty ledger" from an informant.
Subject: Garrick "The Spark."
Attribute: Lightning Magic.
Class: C-Rank Criminal.
History: Known for highway robbery. Highly evasive. Has escaped capture by Low level Magic Knights (by heart kingdom's standards stage 9 and 8) multiple times by using a specialized movement spell.
Garrick was currently resting, likely waiting for nightfall to move his stolen goods or find a fence. He was small fry in the grand scheme of the kingdom, but for Lencar, he was a vital resource.
Analysis: Lightning Magic. High speed. High paralyzed potential.
Utility: Essential for nervous system enhancement and rapid reflexes.
"Lencar? You okay?"
Rebecca's voice broke his focus. She was standing next to him, wiping her hands on her apron. "You were staring at the wall. Are you tired? The kids were loud last night."
Lencar blinked, the cold calculation vanishing instantly, replaced by a weary smile. "I'm fine, Rebecca. Just thinking about... home. Are Marco and Luca back from school?"
"Yeah, they're upstairs wreaking havoc. Do you mind checking on them after your shift? I have to do inventory."
"Of course. Leave it to me."
The day proceeded normally. Lencar finished his shift, cleaned the kitchen until it shone, and then went upstairs to play the role of the big brother. He broke up a fight between Marco and Pem, helped Luca with her reading, and rocked baby Noah to sleep.
The domestic warmth was suffocatingly pleasant. It was a trap, Lencar knew. It made you soft. It made you hesitate. But he treated it like a rest stop—a place to refuel his humanity before he went out to discard it.
By 10:00 PM, the house was silent. Rebecca had collapsed into her bed, exhausted. The children were asleep.
Lencar stood in his small, sterile room. He blew out the candle.
The transformation was instant. The kind brother vanished. The predator emerged.
He pulled on his dark traveler's cloak and secured his hood. He strapped his grimoire to his hip.
Time for the Harvest had come.
He visualized the alleyway behind the "Broken Wheel," the pub where Garrick had been heading earlier. He had marked the coordinates in his mind during his errands.
He raised his hand.
"[Spatial Magic]: [Coordinate Jump]"
The air twisted. A gray, jagged rift opened in the center of the room. Lencar stepped through, leaving the warmth of the Scarlet household behind for the freezing cold of the night.
POP.
He materialized in a dark alleyway three streets away from the pub. The sudden displacement of air kicked up a swirl of snow. Lencar stabilized immediately, pressing his back against the icy brick wall.
He activated [Void Pulse].
His mana signature, already low, inverted. He became a shadow within a shadow. He climbed a stack of crates and vaulted onto the roof, moving silently across the snow-slicked tiles until he looked down at the entrance of the "Broken Wheel."
He waited.
An hour passed. The cold bit at his exposed skin, but his Mana-Forged body generated internal heat efficiently. He didn't shiver. He didn't fidget.
Finally, the door swung open. Garrick stumbled out, laughing with a fellow low-life before waving goodbye and turning down the street. He was drunk, but Lencar noted that his hand never strayed far from his grimoire pouch.
Target is intoxicated. Reaction time compromised by at least 20%.
Lencar followed from the rooftops. He moved like a ghost, tracking the bandit as he weaved through the labyrinthine streets of Nairn, heading toward the outskirts where the law was merely a suggestion.
Garrick turned into a dead-end alley, likely looking for a place to relieve himself.
Now.
Lencar dropped.
He didn't scream. He didn't announce his presence. He fell from the roof, landing silently ten feet behind the bandit.
He didn't scream. He didn't announce his presence. He fell from the roof, landing silently ten feet behind the bandit.
Garrick stopped. His instincts, honed by years of running from Knights, screamed at him.
"Who's there?!" Garrick spun around, his grimoire already floating open.
Sparks of yellow electricity crackled around his body.
"Lightning Creation Magic: [Spark Boots]"
Electricity wrapped around Garrick's legs, twitching his muscles into overdrive. This was the spell that let him outrun the Knights.
"A hunter?" Garrick sneered, seeing the hooded figure. "You think you can catch me? I'm faster than lightn—"
Lencar didn't speak. He raised his hand.
[Wind Attack Magic]: [Vacuum Bullet]
A compressed sphere of air shot forward.
Garrick grinned. "Too slow!"
ZAP.
Garrick vanished. He moved with blinding speed, zig-zagging off the alley walls, leaving trails of static electricity. He appeared behind Lencar in a blur, drawing a jagged, electrified dagger.
"Gotcha!"
He stabbed at Lencar's kidney.
Clang.
The dagger didn't pierce flesh. It hit something hard.
Lencar had shifted his stance by two inches—just enough to catch the blade on the hardened leather vambrace hidden under his cloak. But it wasn't just leather. Beneath the skin, Lencar's muscles had tightened to the density of ironwood.
"What the—?" Garrick's eyes widened.
Lencar turned. His movement wasn't fast like lightning; it was heavy, inevitable, like a closing door.
He grabbed Garrick's wrist.
"Speed is useless," Lencar whispered, his voice distorted by the mask, "if you run into a wall."
Garrick panicked. He tried to discharge a high-voltage shock.
[Lightning Attack Magic]: [Shock Stun]
Electricity surged from Garrick's body into Lencar.
Lencar gritted his teeth. The pain was sharp—nerves misfiring, muscles seizing. But he had endured the pain of tearing his own muscles apart for mana-forging. This was nothing.
He channeled Earth Magic into his feet, grounding himself, letting the excess current flow harmlessly into the cobblestones.
Then, he punched.
It was a simple, brutal hook. No magic. Just physics.
His fist connected with Garrick's jaw. There was a sickening crack.
Garrick's eyes rolled back. The lightning spell fizzled out. He crumbled to the snow, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Lencar stood over him, shaking the numbness from his arm.
"Finally incapacitated," Lencar stated to the empty alley.