The Regressed SSS-Rank Water Mage Wants To Live a Calm Life-Chapter 53: A New Character?

"What?" Maxwell choked out. "How?"

Just in front of the carriage, a rather tall man stood. The black robe he wore did little to hide his muscular figure. And his face was covered by a black, blank mask that only had eye slits through which his red, fiery gaze shone.

The man’s long, black hair fluttered in the wind along with his robe as he stood, gazing at the carriage in front of him.

’Who is that?’ Maxwell furrowed his brows, rummaging through his mind to remember any figure that fit the man’s description.

’Could it be a hired assassin? How did he evade my senses? I didn’t even detect him.’

It was most probable because the man stood directly in front of the carriage, blocking their path and refusing to move.

The masked figure held the fresh corpses of two beasts in both arms, both dripping obscene crimson.

Even now, Maxwell couldn’t feel the man’s presence.

It greatly bothered him.

Meanwhile, Frilo, growling aggressively in agitation, had already transformed into its snake form, wrapping around Maxwell’s wrist.

Suddenly, the masked figure, who’d been gazing directly at the carriage coach, fixed his fiery red gaze on the frozen Maxwell.

Maxwell straightened his back.

"Ah," the masked figure exclaimed with a deep, rumbling voice. He released his grip on the corpses, dropping them to the ground. "There you are."

Before Maxwell could blink and open his eyes, the masked man blurred, wind fluttering where he once stood.

As Maxwell’s eyes opened, the man appeared right in front of Maxwell.

However, the young water mage didn’t move or shake. Instead, his blue gaze turned cold and icy as he stood calmly, observing the mortal under his gaze with an otherworldly focus.

Maxwell activated his divine sense, drawing vast pure mana from the atmosphere and the mana from Frilo through their soul-link to fuel it.

In doing so, Max’s eyes glowed a brilliant blue hue. A contrast to the masked man standing before him, whose eyes shone a fiery red hue.

Maxwell blinked.

He had pierced into his soul. The man in front of him bore no killing intent whatsoever, but there was something peculiar about him.

His physical body looked to be at most sixty, but the age of his soul far surpassed his physical age. His true age was at least one hundred.

And, as Maxwell detected—

’Ah, so that’s why Frilo was so aggressive, and I couldn’t detect him earlier.’

—This man was above the 9th-circle.

Suddenly, Max’s eyes widened. It all clicked.

But why was he here right now? He wasn’t supposed to show himself in the world until the day of the calamity.

Max’s brows furrowed.

’Blank.’

"Who are you?" Maxwell asked, feigning ignorance. "And what do you mean, ’there you are.’"

The masked man’s eyes widened subtly, but returned to normal as he pointed a finger at the carriages behind Maxwell.

"You’re the owner of these carriages, right? You’re probably on your way to Rindell?"

Max’s gaze fluttered as his blue lashes hovered above his clear blue eyes.

"Owner of the carriages?"

The man nodded, and Maxwell felt as if he was smiling under that black mask.

"You smell like a noble. Aren’t you one?"

"No," Maxwell straightened his back. "Not exactly."

"Then?"

"I work as a mercenary," Maxwell reached for his pocket, bringing out his golden license. "I’m currently escorting a noble lady to the capital." He returned his license and looked into the man’s eyes. "And you are?"

The man raised a hand, waving it.

"No need for such intensity, young man," he spoke grimly. "That golden license of yours. An S-rank, huh. Say, is that old man, Gislow, still alive?"

"He’s alive, yes."

"Mn," the man nodded. "I was a mercenary once. Or," he held his chin, "I guess I still am? I don’t remember where I kept my golden license, though. Its been ages since I last set foot in Levaria as a whole."

’He’s been away from the continent?’

"Anyway, those beasts," the man turned to the two corpses he’d dropped earlier, pointing at them, "they were in your way. S-rank beasts, they are. They’re called phantoms. They shouldn’t even be here, as this isn’t their habitat, Elyrus is. But something strange’s been happening in that forest lately."

The masked man held his chin.

"I’ll have to visit the Elf elders soon. The dragons are–" Suddenly, he blinked. "Ah, where are my manners?"

Maxwell just stood, staring at the man like an incredibly dangerous threat. Well, he was an incredibly dangerous threat.

"Call me–" he hummed for a while, looking skyward. "Know what? Don’t call me anything. Just call me ’hey,’ or ’this guy,’ or ’oi’ if you’re referring to–"

"Can I ask why you’re here? If your aim here was to kill the beasts in our way, then you’ve done so, and you should be on your way. If it wasn’t to kill the beasts, then what exactly," Maxwell’s circles began to spin, mana from Frilo surging into his pathways, "is your aim?"

"Calm down," the masked man spoke with a serious tone. "I just want to ask for a ride, because I so happen to be on my way to Rindell too."

’Huh?’

"You’re on your way to the capital?"

"Yes. I’ve been traveling on foot. I’ve been traveling on foot since I left the Eastern Continent. Know how far that is? Hm?"

Maxwell frowned.

"I find that hard to believe."

"That I’ve been traveling on foo–"

"That you set foot in the Eastern Continent."

The masked man clapped his hands.

"Ah!" He chuckled. "I forgot, people still fear the Eastern Continent, huh? Well," he shook his head, "it’s for a good reason. Not everyone can enter and exit as they please."

This was, in fact, true.

See, there were four continents in the world, Cryst. The Northern, Southern, Eastern and Western.

Elyrus could be counted as a continent too, but no one liked to count the Great Equator as a continent.

The North was dominated by core bearers and weapon users, the South dominated by elemental mages, and the Western Continent, Hubolt, was an... Entire nation on its own. The people there were all under one governance. The governance of the High Priest.

Those people worshipped the god of light, Hubolt. Even the name of the continent was the same as their god. And all who lived in Hubolt were people who possessed fragments of Hubolt’s energy, his divinity. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Weaker deities like Hubolt needed continuous Faith farming to maintain their divinity and existence. And so, they established religions, such as that near-fanatical one in the West.

People who awakened fragments of his divinity were sent to the west immediately, or recruited by priests; thus, the reason all occupants of the Western Continent could use the fragments they called Holy Energy.

Anyway, the Western Continent was ruled by the High Priest, the only law. He was some kind of Holy Continental Emperor.

One could only guess the level of corruption that had taken root in a place like that.

However, every single intelligent being in the world, regardless of race, knew one thing:

The Eastern Continent was a death zone.

Since the foundations and establishments of flourishing civilizations, leaders and rulers have sent envoys and explorers to the Eastern Continent.

None had ever made it back. It had been this way for thousands of years.

Anyone who crossed the five seas to the Eastern Continent was walking to their death.

When Kings, Rulers or Emperors ordered a man to depart for the Eastern Continent, it was seen as a death sentence.

But now, this man in front of Maxwell was saying that he had just arrived from the Eastern Continent...

Maxwell chuckled, shrugging.

He believed the man.

After all, in his past life, he’d ventured into the Eastern Continent with Malin and the gang.

It was a... really interesting experience to say the least.

Maxwell turned, facing his back to the masked man.

"Whatever. You shouldn’t ask me if you want to join us in the carriage," Maxwell declared. "Ask the owner. But I don’t think she’ll agree to take in a stranger as dangerous as yourself, when we don’t even know your name."

Maxwell began to walk toward the carriage where Olive was.

The masked man stood there, scratching his long, flowy black hair.

"Tsk." He clicked his tongue. "Call me Blank."

Maxwell paused, smiling.

’I knew it.’

"And before you start asking, ’Oh, the legend Blank?’ Yes," Blank spoke with a boastful voice. "That’s me. I’m currently on my way to meet that brat you all call the Emperor." Blank cleared his throat. "You satisfied?"

Maxwell, still smiling, looked back at Blank over his shoulder.

"I’m not the one you should be asking, though."

"Eh? Not the reaction I was expecting." He sighed. "Well, damn. It seems I’ll have to beg a noble lady for a ride."

’Malin, it seems the things you told me about are already beginning to happen.’

Maxwell turned and walked into the carriage.

Blank followed behind him.

"Nice spirit you got there, though."

"You can see my spirit?"

"Of course I can. Your fighting spirit is impressive. I mean, it isn’t killing intent, but you were planning on attacking me, right?"

Maxwell breathed out.

’Fighting spirit. A more peaceful variation of killing intent. Not Frilo... he can’t see Frilo.’

"Yeah."

Blank chuckled.

"You would have lost."

’No, I wouldn’t have.’

Frilo buzzed.