Identity

[Due to ๔є๓๏ภ ﻮ๏๔ Xylothar's Curse, your sȶaȶ have been sealed! You will only have 0.000001% of y0ur original power!]

[Michael Wayne]

[Cłæss: ʍǟɢɛ]

[ֆȶʀɛռɢȶɦ: 1][22][SEALED]

[Sp33d: 1][22][SEALED]

[Ðefenße: 1][22][SEALED]

[Fσɾƈҽ: 1][22][SEALED]

[SP: 0]

Michael was somewhat taken aback by what appeared before him. He had assumed that if such an event were to occur, it would be due to an error rather than a curse.

This was his first encounter with the concept of curses, and he couldn't comprehend why he was being cursed by the very entity that had brought him here.

Michael had harbored resentment toward Xylothar ever since he was brought to that hellhole, but now, for the first time, he felt a sense of gratitude toward him. Xylothar had given him back a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while: happiness.

He found solace in the sealing of his power, viewing it as a curse. His immense strength had robbed him of the simple gift of death; in his presence, fear became a constant companion for those in hell, rendering him perpetually isolated.

He lost the sensation of fear, and without fear, life was meaningless. The joy and excitement he once felt from battling monsters had also vanished. In essence, his powers had stripped away everything that made him feel human.

Now that those powers were gone, he could finally experience life as a human, envisioning a future of normalcy, family, and ultimately, returning to the ground where his body would nourish the world.

For the first time in centuries, Michael smiled genuinely. "Cooter, since you're a man of honor, let's make a wager. If you win, you keep the girl; if I win, I leave with her."

"What's the bet?" Cooter drawled out.

"We'll clash our swords, just the two of us. The first to land a blow on the other opponent wins. This way, no one needs to die," Michael proposed.

In most cases, anyone would accept Michael's bet without hesitation—after all, who would be afraid to clash swords with a six-year-old child? But Cooter didn't rise to where he was today by acting impulsively or blindly.

Seeing a six-year-old child propose such a confident bet suggested that Michael had a hidden advantage up his sleeve. Given Michael's demonstrated capabilities—killing a man without hesitation and speaking and thinking like an adult—Cooter hesitated to accept the challenge.

"If we're gonna fight with honor, how 'bout you spill the beans on what you got up your sleeve? I reckon it ain't too smart to go into a fight blind just 'cause of honor," Cooter said.

Michael extended his palm before him, and a small, beautiful flame floated above it. Suddenly, the air around him grew fierce, blowing his hair about. A piece of earth pierced through the carriage floor, and water manifested above the flame, extinguishing it.

Everyone present let out high-pitched screams like little girls. "You're a quad-mage! Hold on a minute, how are you even a mage yet? You ain't of age! And how in tarnation are you silent casting?" Cooter bombarded Michael with questions, to which Michael had no answers. After all, he knew nothing of this world.

"Those are answers for another day. I also won't use them during our duel, so you won't have to worry," Michael assured.

Cooter laughed heartily. "You know I'm a businessman first, right? Despite the fact that my line of work is pure evil and I deserve to be hanged for it, I always think in terms of profit and risk. So here's an offer you might find interesting. How about I let you take the girl with you, but in return, you owe me a favor down the line?"

"An early investment," Michael muttered under his breath.

"Right on the gold! So what do ya say?" Cooter grinned.

Michael had no reason to decline Cooter's offer. The reason Michael suggested the duel was because he didn't want to kill anyone now that he had an opportunity to live peacefully. If he had his full power, he wouldn't have considered the duel and would have likely killed Cooter and the other bandits.

"Deal," Michael said, shaking Cooter's hand firmly.

As they were set to leave, the girl suddenly stopped, which confused Michael.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked.

"We can't leave all these people! It's not right!" She said.

Michael was puzzled by where a six year old had learned such a sense of justice. Then he considered that if he wanted to live a normal life, doing good things would come naturally.

Approaching Cooter, who was jubilant with Chubby and Scrawny, Michael spoke up. "Cooter, I have another request, and of course, it won't come for free."

"I want the other—" Before he could finish, Cooter interrupted him, "Well now, you can have 'em. Consider it a way of strengthenin' our new partnership," Cooter said, extending his hand in agreement.

Michael nodded. "Cooter, I hope the next time we meet, you'll have turned over a new leaf and become a better man," he said with a smile.

As he walked towards the other carriages, he paused in surprise at what Cooter said. "You too."

With a smile, Michael proceeded to free the other slaves, a group spanning a wide range of ages and backgrounds, totaling around a hundred individuals. As they traveled, Michael engaged in conversation with an elderly man. "The city of Rinland is about two weeks away from here," the man explained. "Given our current environment, no food, and our numbers, it might take us three weeks or possibly longer."

"Your insights are greatly appreciated," Michael acknowledged graciously.

"We owe you our lives. For now, this is the least I can offer," the old man said gratefully.

"Actually, it was her idea to save you all. I was going to leave you behind, so you should thank her instead of me," Michael said, pointing at the little girl.

"Thank you very much for your consideration," he said to the little girl, then looked at Michael. "Also, don't blame yourself. I'm sure no one would judge you for leaving us behind. To be honest, I would've done the same. But in the end, you both still freed us all, and that's all that matters."

Michael smiled. It was the first time he had been thanked for doing something good, and it felt genuinely satisfying.