Cevic and the chief of Heaven's Peak welcomed the Outcasts with open arms. Their smiles were warm—too warm. Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about this town. The adventurers occupying the area only deepened his suspicion. Still, he kept his concerns to himself, masking them with a polite expression.
"It's always good to see friendly adventurers along the way," Arthur said, shaking Cevic's hand with a practiced smile. "We've been traveling for months now on a quest of great importance."
Cevic studied him for a moment, then his eyes widened in recognition.
"Wait a second... I know you. You're Arthur Pendragon—the level 80 adventurer. The one predicted to be the first to reach level 100 and defeat the Demon King!" Cevic said, his tone filled with admiration.
Arthur barely acknowledged the praise, but the townspeople did. Murmurs spread through the crowd as their expressions shifted to awe. Even the town chief straightened with newfound respect.
"If I may ask," Cevic continued, "what kind of quest brings you here?"
Arthur blinked, snapped out of his brief moment of ego. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a worn drawing. It depicted the boy with a yin-yang symbol embedded in his eyes, clutching a black rock. The bounty written beneath it was absurd—one million gold coins.
He watched Cevic's reaction closely. But instead of intrigue, Cevic barely glanced at the bounty. He didn't seem interested.
That made Arthur curious.
"How long have you and your party been in this town?" he asked.
Cevic didn't hesitate. "Six months."
Arthur smiled, though his mind was racing. That explained why they hadn't heard of the new bounty—if they'd been in this town for half a year, they wouldn't have gotten the latest updates.
But something didn't add up.
Six months for a simple bandit hunt? That was far too long. Even if their party was composed entirely of mages, they were all above level 20. Bandits shouldn't pose a challenge to them. And if they hadn't completed their quest, how had they been surviving financially for the past six months?
Arthur was too exhausted from the journey to dwell on it. He pushed his suspicions aside, longing for a proper rest.
Maxwell, however, wasn't so quick to let it go. While he didn't share Arthur's distrust of the town, something did strike him as odd—a party made up entirely of mages.
Adventurers were typically divided into three types:
Warrior types relied on physical strength, wielding swords and enchanted weapons. Arthur was a prime example.
Archer types specialized in long-range combat, using bows and precise attacks. Their physical stats were balanced, like Fay.
Mage types were casters, manipulating their surroundings with mana. They excelled in support and healing, making them invaluable in battle. Maxwell himself was a mage.
And that was precisely what unsettled him. A full party of mages, with no warriors or archers to balance them, seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.
Something was definitely strange about Heaven's Peak.
As Maxwell made his way to the room the townsfolk had prepared for him, exhaustion weighed heavy on his limbs. The journey had been long, and rest was all he could think about—until he noticed a young boy, no older than ten, staring at him in awe.
Maxwell offered a friendly "Hello," but the boy didn't reply. Before he could wonder why, the town chief, a frail yet kind-eyed old man, approached with a warm smile.
"That's my grandson, Top," the chief explained. "I'm afraid he can't hear you, nor can he speak. You see, my grandson is deaf, and the only way we communicate is through sign language."
Maxwell's heart softened. "He's a big fan of adventurers—especially mages," the chief added with a chuckle. "I suppose your staff was a dead giveaway."
Touched by the boy's admiration, Maxwell knelt down and, to the chief's surprise, began signing.
Top's eyes widened in delight. He immediately signed back, his movements quick and excited.
The chief blinked. "You know sign language?"
Maxwell grinned. "I've studied countless skills in my time. Sign language just happens to be one of them."
Top beamed with joy, his small hands flying as he signed questions about magic, battles, and the life of an adventurer. Maxwell responded with enthusiasm, relishing the opportunity to make a difference in the boy's world.
As the chief watched their exchange, his smile grew. "I'm glad we finally have adventurers we can feel safe with."
Something about that statement felt... off. It lingered in Maxwell's mind like an unfinished thought. But before he could dwell on it, Top tugged on his sleeve, eager for more stories. Maxwell let it go, too happy in the moment to question it further.
Morning came, and everyone was busy with their own tasks.
Maxwell spent time with Top, telling him stories of legendary adventurers.
Fay restocked their supplies for the journey.
Hana scouted the town, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
Arthur, however, was deep in an investigation of his own.
The question that bothered him most was simple: Why were bandits attacking such a small town?
His search led him to the answer—gold.
Heaven's Peak wasn't just any town. Beneath its soil lay rich veins of gold, which the townspeople mined, creating an abundance of wealth. A perfect target for bandits.
But something still didn't add up.
The town had been dealing with these attacks for months. With so many adventurers here, why hadn't the bandits been defeated yet?
Arthur frowned. Could these bandits be stronger than expected? And if so… why were the adventurers still alive?
The thought gnawed at him.
Meanwhile, Maxwell and Top sat inside his room, the boy watching intently as Maxwell signed of The Big Three—the legendary adventurers who were so powerful, they needed no party.
The Enchanted Samurai of the East.
The Lone Wolf of the West.
And the strongest adventurer in the world—Hercules, from Legostream.
Before Maxwell could continue, a sharp, blaring sound cut through the peaceful morning.
The town alarm.
Shouts echoed through the streets. Townspeople scrambled in a panic.
The reason was clear—
The bandits were attacking.
Maxwell grabbed his staff, ready for battle. A part of him even hoped he'd get to use his Plot Armour ability. But the moment he stepped outside, Arthur stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Maxwell snapped, impatience flaring. "These people are in trouble."
Arthur's expression remained calm—too calm. "Relax, weakling. This isn't our quest."
Maxwell clenched his fists. "What?"
Arthur crossed his arms. "We're adventurers. We honour our codes. The Elementals took this quest—it's theirs to complete."
That wasn't the real reason. Arthur wasn't just following some adventurer's code. He wanted to see how the Elementals would handle the bandits.
Maxwell felt a pang of frustration. Top was watching him. How could he stand by and do nothing? But Arthur was the leader, and Maxwell had no choice but to obey.
Cevic and his Elemental party engaged the bandits with precise coordination.
"Fireball!" Cevic roared, launching a blazing sphere that exploded into the enemy ranks, incapacitating several bandits.
The rest of his party followed suit—water, earth, and air magic striking in perfect harmony. Within minutes, the bandits were defeated.
But then the Outcasts noticed something.
None of the bandits had been killed.
One by one, the defeated bandits got back up and fled into the woods. They were allowed to escape.
Arthur's stomach twisted. No wonder this quest seemed never-ending.
Arthur's patience snapped. "You have got to be kidding me." He stormed forward, his tone laced with frustration. "You're just letting them go? They're only going to come back!"
Cevic turned to face him, unfazed. "I understand how this looks," he said evenly. "But we are adventurers who believe all life is sacred. We cannot take it—that is not our way."
Maxwell's eyes widened. It sounded like something straight out of one of his novels. A hero's creed, an unwavering belief in the sanctity of life. It was admirable.
But then he glanced at Top.
The boy wasn't in awe. He was disgusted.
Maxwell didn't understand why, but the look in Top's eyes unsettled him.
Arthur, on the other hand, was done pretending.
"I call bullshit."
His polite facade shattered like glass. His sharp gaze locked onto the town chief.
"You," he said coldly.
The chief remained still.
"If you're not satisfied with the adventurers taking on your quest," Arthur continued, "you have the right to request another."
Hana and Fay instinctively reached for their weapons. Whatever the chief said next could turn this ugly.
Cevic smiled, his usual easy-going demeanour unchanged. "Well, Chief… it's your call. Are you satisfied with our services?"
The chief's face was unreadable. Then, after a tense pause, he said: "We are perfectly happy working with the Elementals. Thank you for your concern."
Silence.
And then—
Arthur laughed.
It wasn't amusement. It was realization.
"You son of a bitch," he muttered, stepping forward. His presence suddenly felt heavier—the kind of weight that made the air hard to breathe.
"So that's your plan."
The Elementals stiffened. Fear crept into their eyes.
Arthur Pendragon had figured it out.
Now the question was—
What did he figure out? And What would he do next?