The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 115 - 116 – Return

The caravan pressed forward at a swift pace, maintaining its speed as it neared the northern border.

Hutson couldn’t help but admire the infrastructure of the Doris Kingdom—its well-maintained roads were a testament to the nation’s prosperity.

Through careful observation, he noticed that these roads were not left to decay; they were regularly repaired, ensuring smooth passage for travelers and merchants alike.

When they reached the border, the exit inspections were surprisingly lenient. The guards were primarily concerned with identifying fugitives.

As long as no one in the caravan was wanted, they were allowed to pass without issue.

Beyond the border lay a vast primeval forest, untamed and ancient.

The well-paved roads gave way to rough, uneven trails, and the caravan’s pace inevitably slowed.

For an entire month, they journeyed through the dense wilderness. Though the forest teemed with wild beasts and magical creatures, none dared approach such a large convoy.

During this time, Hutson remained inside his carriage, immersed in meditation and cultivation. Before departing, he had meticulously prepared enough Starry Sky Elixirs to sustain his practice. Fortunately, the elixir’s side effects no longer troubled him, or he would have struggled to suppress its volatile energy during the long journey.

" Ai chip, segment the Dark Abyss Heavens spell model into multiple modules and show me the first one."

Ai chip—his mystical intelligence—had grown significantly stronger, now capable of deciphering portions of the Dark Abyss Heavens spell structure.

"The spell model has been divided into thirty-two modules. Presenting Module One."

As the intricate spell model materialized before him, Hutson immediately felt a headache forming.

This one module alone contained over three hundred parameters and twenty-seven complex formulas. Though the number of formulas was manageable, their complexity was staggering.

"How did ancient sorcerers ever master this?"

Hutson found it difficult to believe that those from ancient times could have comprehended such advanced calculations.

Yet, without understanding these intricate formulas, how could they have constructed the spell model in the first place?

He shook off the thought and resumed his meticulous study.

If he could fully grasp this Tier-One Innate Spell, it would significantly ease his ascension to a full-fledged sorcerer.

One glance, and an entire day had passed.

The caravan traversed a stunning forest of crimson maple trees. As they neared a fork in the road, Hutson reined in his horses and turned to the caravan leader.

"This is where I part ways. Safe travels to you."

The caravan leader smiled, clasping his hands in respect.

"Safe travels to you as well, Sir. We are grateful for your presence along the journey."

Now that he was returning to Moonlight Woodland, Hutson could no longer let someone else drive his carriage. He climbed onto the driver’s seat, taking the reins himself.

Still, there had been no word from Lary during the entire journey, which meant the war was, at the very least, at a standstill.

As he passed through the familiar crimson woods, memories surfaced—he recalled the day he fled from Moonlight Woodland.

Back then, he had been merely a First-Tier Apprentice, barely able to escape from the Third-Tier apprentices of Green Lodge.

But now, in the blink of an eye, he had become one himself. No longer just prey—at the very least, he could now defend himself.

Following the road etched into his memory, he pressed on. Two days later, he arrived at a familiar waystation.

Only now, the waystation was vastly different.

A massive skeletal visage loomed over it, its hollow eyes casting a shadow over the entrance.

"Show me your sigil."

A voice echoed from within the skeletal maw—the gateway to the waystation. A Third-Tier apprentice emerged from within, eyeing Hutson’s robes.

Hutson produced his sigil and spoke plainly.

"Hutson Merlin, student of Master Lary."

The apprentice examined the sigil carefully. Hearing Lary’s name, he made no further inquiries and handed it back.

"You may enter."

Hutson urged his horses forward, passing through the ominous gateway. He quickly noted the heightened defenses—seven Third-Tier apprentices and two full-fledged sorcerers patrolled the waystation.

The very ground bore the scars of battle—charred craters, scorched earth, and deep indentations left by destructive spells.

It was clear that a fierce conflict had taken place here.

Hutson felt a flicker of relief.

"Good thing I left early. Had I been caught in this war, I wouldn’t have survived, even with ten lives to spare."

Reaching for his sigil, he sent a message to his mentor.

"Master Lary, I have returned."

A response came swiftly.

"Rest for two days. Come see me after that—I will brief you on recent developments."

"Understood."

Hutson urged his carriage forward, entering the heart of Moonlight Woodland.

In the distance, beyond the towering trees, he glimpsed a barrier stretching across the land—a shimmering dome of magic, vast enough to cover the entire woodland.

"So, this is the warding barrier against Green Lodge..."

A barrier of this scale, sustained for this long, could only be the combined effort of multiple full-fledged sorcerers.

He continued down the winding road, heading toward the northern forest sector.

As he traveled, Hellhoof emerged from the underbrush—a monstrous beast of the woodland. It paused, its infernal hooves stomping the ground.

It gazed curiously at the two magnificent warhorses pulling Hutson’s carriage, as if contemplating whether to approach.

Hutson chuckled.

"Still as nosy as ever, I see."

And with that, he continued onward—toward the heart of Moonlight Woodland, where the fate of sorcerers and warlords alike was yet to be decided.

Though Hellhoof was curious, it had a duty to fulfill. It could not linger on the road. With a final stomp of its hooves, the beast turned and vanished into the depths of the forest.

Meanwhile, Hutson pressed onward, guiding his carriage toward the Northern Forest District—only to find that the devastation was far worse than he had anticipated.

The war had ravaged this land.

Many homes lay in ruins, their structures collapsed, the wreckage unmistakably scarred by magic. The lingering aura of destructive spells still clung to the broken timber and scorched stone.

But more unsettling than the destruction itself was the emptiness.

The Northern District, once teeming with life, was now eerily silent. Even the homes that remained intact were dark, their windows devoid of candlelight.

The streets were nearly deserted—only a handful of figures could be seen, moving cautiously in the shadows.

A city that once thrived now barely clung to life.

Hutson urged his horses forward, weaving through the shattered remnants of his homeland, his thoughts heavy with the weight of what had transpired.

Finally, he arrived at his own residence—and exhaled in relief.

His home, though layered in dust, still stood untouched.

This part of the district was deeper within the forest, shielded from the brunt of the battle. Most of the buildings here had escaped destruction.

As he stepped toward his door, something caught his eye.

Two letters lay beneath the threshold, buried under a layer of dust so thick it was clear they had been there for a long time.

Hutson knelt, picking them up. With a slow breath, he blew away the dust.

One letter bore the delicate handwriting of Lilian.

The other, to his surprise, was from Emil.

Hutson’s expression shifted—he had written to them before, but he never expected a response. Two continents apart, separated by an endless sea, yet this letter had somehow found its way to him. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

He turned back to his horses, leading them toward the rear forest stables. There was a proper horse yard within Moonlight Woodland, where one could pay to have their steeds cared for. The journey had been long, and his horses deserved their rest.

Once the carriage was unhitched and the animals settled, he turned his focus back to his long-abandoned home.

The air inside was thick with dust. He had been gone far too long.

With a flick of his fingers, he murmured an incantation, summoning a whirlwind of magic to cleanse the house. It took nearly an hour to rid every corner of dust and debris.

Only when the house felt livable once more did he allow himself to relax.

Hutson brewed a pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air, chasing away the stale emptiness of the home.

Then, with a sigh, he sank into the sofa, letters in hand.

The first he chose to read—was Emil’s.

His fingers traced the worn edges of the envelope.

A letter that had crossed oceans, defied distance, and arrived against all odds...

He opened it.