Chapter 208
At this point, the two youths knew they had messed with the wrong person.
From the moment they saw Michael show no fear, a sinking feeling settled in their stomachs. Something was wrong.
To be honest, perhaps it was because he came from a world where though status mattered, it wasn’t to the extent of absolute submission.
Putting aside his appearance and expensive clothing, Michael carried himself in a way that only those in power did in this world did.
A self of freedom emitted from him.
It wasn’t that there weren’t heroic commoners, but those commoners dressed like commoners.
It wasn’t that the two youths had expected this to be an easy job—they knew noble children could be difficult.
What they hadn’t expected was for this one to not only dismiss them entirely but also be terrifyingly skilled in combat.
A wave of negative emotions crashed over them—fear, regret, confusion.
Even Lia, the taller of the two, felt a rare moment of clarity. Unfortunately, it was too late.
Feeling the noble’s iron grip on his body, he knew instantly—he was no match.
This guy was as strong as a knight!
With his basic education, that was the only comparison Lia could make. And if he had known the truth—that Michael wasn’t just as strong as a knight, but possessed power comparable to even a grand mage—Lia wouldn’t have dared to even dream of robbing him.
A grand mage. A grand knight.
Figures spoken of in awe, the kind that appeared in stories that left commoners breathless.
Even those ignorant of the supernatural world knew of them.
As citizens of the capital, almost everyone had heard the tales of the third-generation queen, the legendary grand mage.
Her feats were so incredible that, to the average person, they were practically divine.
Wasn’t that power one that belonged to God like figures?
If Lia knew of Michael prowess, only one question woul pop in his head.
Had he just tried to steal from a god?
The knife in the shorter youth’s hand trembled. His breathing was uneven, his grip unsteady.
“He’s just one guy! If we both—”
Michael’s expression remained unreadable. Then, in the blink of an eye—he vanished.
The shorter youth barely had time to react before a firm hand rested on his shoulder from behind.
His entire body froze.
Cold sweat dripped down his neck as terror surged through him.
He hadn’t even seen Michael move.
One moment, he had been in front of him, pinning Lia against the wall. The next, he was behind him—without a single sound.
Michael leaned in slightly, his voice low and composed. “If you both do what?”
The shorter youth’s breath hitched. He gripped the knife tighter, but his body refused to move. Every instinct screamed at him—run. But his legs wouldn’t listen.
He felt like a deep abyss was behind him threatening to devour him at any moment.
Michael’s fingers tightened just enough on his shoulder, not painfully, but enough to remind him of the absolute difference in power between them.
“You’re scared,” Michael said. “That’s good. It means you understand reality.”
The youth flinched.
Lia, still pressed against the wall, had gone pale. His fists clenched, jaw tight, but he didn’t move.
His earlier rage had been swallowed by an entirely different emotion—one he wasn’t willing to admit out loud.
Michael exhaled softly, then let go of the shorter boy’s shoulder and stepped back.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
The youth hesitated but obeyed, stiffly turning to face him. His face was ashen, his hands trembling.
Michael glanced at the knife. “Are you planning to use that?”
The youth opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words.
Michael sighed. “Listen carefully. If I were like the nobles you seem to despise, you’d both be dead already.”
Both of them stiffened.
“But I’m not interested in unnecessary violence,” he continued. “So, I’ll ask one last time. Why were you following me?”
“We wanted to truly rob you,” the shorter youth muttered, mustering the courage to reply, though his voice shook.
Michael’s gaze remained steady. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “What’s your name? And his? Don’t lie.”
“Ace,” the boy answered truthfully. “His name is Lia.”
Michael hummed in acknowledgment before his eyes flicked to Lia. “So why does your friend hate me so much?”He didn’t fully believe that their only intention was robbery. However, this was what reality suggested, yet Lia’s actions made him keep doubting.
The boy was a bit too aggressive.
No, wait.
Unless he was just unlucky, this was already the second time someone had drawn a weapon on him since his arrival—first the drunkard at the Hunter’s Guild, and now Lia.
Were nobles that hateful or was it just him that was a magnet for those who hated the nobles extremely.
To Michael’s question, before Ace could respond, Lia—who had already turned to face Michael—spoke.
Lia gritted his teeth, his pride warring with the cold fear gripping his chest. But as his eyes darted to Ace—his friend, his only real companion—he swallowed his pride.
“Let him go,” Lia said, voice hoarse. “This was my idea. He just got dragged into it.”
Ace’s eyes widened. “Lia—”
“Shut up,” Lia snapped, his gaze never leaving Michael. “He had nothing to do with this. If you want to punish someone, punish me.”
Michael studied him, his expression unreadable. There was no visible anger, no malice—just a detached curiosity, like someone observing a mildly interesting puzzle.
“You’re taking full responsibility?” he asked.
Lia nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Lia hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “Because…” He exhaled sharply, frustration and helplessness flashing across his face. “Because Ace doesn’t deserve this. He just follows me around because I’m all he has. I got us into this mess.”
Michael tilted his head slightly, then glanced at Ace. “Is that true?”
Ace hesitated, his lips parting, but no words came out. He looked at Lia, at the tension in his shoulders, the way he stood firm despite the fear in his eyes.
Then, slowly, Ace nodded.
Michael exhaled softly. “I see.”
For a long moment, there was only silence. The alley felt smaller, the air heavier. Lia braced himself for whatever came next.
And then, to his utter shock—Michael chuckled.
Lia stiffened. Even Ace looked bewildered.
“You’re an idiot,” Michael said, shaking his head. “But a loyal one.”
Lia frowned. “What?”
Michael turned, stepping away as if losing interest. “If you had just said you wanted to rob me, I might’ve let it slide. But your little speech just made me curious.”
“Tell me—why do you hate nobles so much?”