Chapter 15 - Saved by a Familiar Face

Alaric woke up inside a dark room. Something was covering his head. When it was pulled off, he saw them—the same three men from the other night.

The thugs who tried to rob him.

"Hello there," one sneered. "Not so tough now, huh? Hands tied, no magic… What can you even do?"

They had tied him up, and not just in any way—his arms were bound to prevent proper spellcasting. A skilled mage might be able to cast without moving, but Alaric was just a beginner.

"What do you want?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Your magical tome. The one we saw you carrying. Where is it? Speak."

That book wasn't even his. Giving it away would betray Ruby and Ashley. So he held firm.

"I won't tell you shit," he spat. "And when I get out of here, I'll teach you all a damn lesson."

They just laughed.

"You won't leave," one said. "No plans, no escape. Unless you tell us where the book is… then maybe we'll kill you quickly."

They asked again. Alaric stayed silent. So they beat him.

Each blow landed hard. Pain spread through his ribs, arms, face. He gritted his teeth and endured.

It wasn't just pain—it was humiliation. Getting beaten up by thugs while tied down, helpless. It was suffocating.

After nearly an hour of torture, his thoughts began to shift. Maybe if he gave up the book, the pain would stop.

But then he remembered Ruby and Ashley. If he gave in, they'd be caught in the crossfire. That kept him quiet.

Then—footsteps. A door creaked open.

The thugs looked startled. That door wasn't supposed to open.

"Who's there? We're armed! Don't make us kill you!"

They grabbed their daggers and faced the entrance.

An old man walked in. Alaric recognized him instantly.

Vergo—the shopkeeper who'd just given him a job.

He saw Alaric's bruised and bloodied form, and fury twisted his expression.

"What the hell is this?" Vergo asked, voice low but trembling with rage. "Why are you doing this to him?"

One thug laughed. "Get lost, old man. Go back to your dusty shop. What are you even doing here?"

Vergo didn't answer with words. He raised a hand.

Air shifted in the room. A silent, invisible wind swept forward—and in an instant, the mocking thug's head rolled across the floor.

Dead.

The other two stared, eyes wide, hearts pounding.

"Y-You're a mage too?" one stammered. "Please… we didn't know! Spare us!"

They dropped to their knees, begging.

Vergo didn't respond. With another wave, the same silent magic struck again.

Two more bodies hit the floor.

Alaric blinked. It had all happened in seconds.

Vergo walked over.

"How did you find me?" Alaric asked weakly.

"I saw you practicing spells the other night," Vergo replied. "Saw those thugs lurking near you too. Today, you didn't show up at the store, so I stopped by Ruby's place. She said you were missing. I followed the trail."

It was pure chance. Vergo had been out for fresh air, saw Alaric training. He hadn't even known Alaric was a wizard until then.

"You look like shit," Vergo said. "Let's get you out of here."

He cut the ropes with magic, helped Alaric to his feet, and they walked out together.

They were in a forest, beneath a cabin—the basement, hidden and quiet. Clearly where the thugs did their dirty work.

"Do you want to go straight to Ruby's," Vergo asked, "or should I help you recover first? I doubt she has the right things to treat this."

Alaric's body screamed. Broken ribs, bruises, cuts—and he was still bleeding. With basic medical care, he might not survive.

He needed magic.

"Please," he whispered. "Heal me."

Vergo laid him down gently, then began channeling healing magic.

It wasn't his specialty, but he knew enough. Glowing warmth moved through Alaric's bones, knitting fractures and closing wounds.

Vergo focused on internal damage first. Healing the outside too fast might raise suspicion.

"This way," Vergo said, "you'll still look beaten, but inside, you'll be good. Can't let people see you fully healed—that'll raise questions."

Alaric understood. Vergo clearly didn't want everyone knowing he was a mage. Not yet.

"Thank you," Alaric said softly.

"It was nothing," Vergo replied.

Vergo carried Alaric to Ruby's house. Technically, Alaric could've walked there himself, but that would've raised too much suspicion. The way he looked—bruised, battered, barely holding himself together—it was better this way.

Having Vergo accompany him was the wisest choice.

Ruby and Ashley were outside in the courtyard. When Vergo had visited earlier, he'd told them not to worry, that he would find Alaric and bring him home safely.

People in town respected Vergo. They believed he was a retired warrior—someone who'd seen things and could handle trouble. That reputation was why Ruby and Ashley had trusted his word. Vergo also mentioned he had contacts who could help locate Alaric if needed.

So, when the girls saw Alaric approaching, their reaction was instant.

"Oh my god!" Ruby gasped, sprinting toward him. "Who did this to you?!"

Alaric didn't feel like talking. His whole body ached, and his mind just wanted rest. A soft bed, silence, and maybe food later—those were his priorities. Ruby and Ashley saw that in his eyes and didn't press him further.

They guided him carefully inside and helped him to a room on the first floor—no chance they'd let him climb stairs in that condition.

From that moment, they took charge.

They brought him water. Prepared food. Stayed nearby to make sure he was okay.

Not long after, Ruby called her family's doctor to examine Alaric properly.

The doctor arrived quickly, checked him over, and began bandaging the worst of the injuries.

"He'll be fine," the doctor said. "Most of it's external—bruises, cuts. Give him a few days of proper rest and he'll be back on his feet. Just don't let him overexert himself. He needs bed rest."

"Of course. Thank you, doctor," Ruby replied, her eyes not leaving Alaric for even a second.