Asor's face, marked by the harshness of his ethnic lineage, belied the kindness within him. He understood that Martin was the magician responsible for Kerry's downfall, and this knowledge gave him a sense of relief. Kerry had risen to the rank of mid-level swordsman through connections and resources, but his combat skills were lacking. He was the disgrace among the city guards, a reflection of the system's failures.

  Asor reassured Martin that neither Busca nor Kerry's demise had any connection to him. The identity of the so-called steel swordsman, however, raised Asor's suspicions. Yet, he trusted Martin's words enough to dismiss the absurdity of the situation—could it really be that these men had met their end at the hands of a mere leaf?

  As their conversation continued, footsteps echoed through the clearing. Leaves rustled as four figures emerged from the jungle. Martin's heart sank with recognition; he had seen one of them before. Effia, the city’s daughter, was riding a white horse, flanked by three armored guards.

  Martin recalled their last encounter—four city guards and an orc warrior accompanying Effia. It seemed they were now in front of him, though he had little recollection of Asor amidst the beauty of Effia.

  "What happened here?" Effia's eyes darted from Busca to Kerry and the smoldering remains of the wooden house. Shock flashed across her face, quickly replaced by determination.

  "Miss Effia, this is what transpired..." Asor recounted the events with urgency.

  Upon hearing the details, Effia's expression hardened with anger. "This man, Busca, dared to kidnap people? And his son is a guard in my city? This is a disgrace!"

  "Kerry has always been a stain on our city’s honor. It doesn’t surprise me he was involved in this," one of the Terran guards chimed in, eyeing Kerry with disdain. "This fate suits him." He then turned to Martin, skepticism etched on his features. "You say a man claiming to be a steel swordsman killed them? There are only eight senior swordsmen in Stan City, and none claim that title."

  Unlike Asor, this Terran guard was not easily swayed. Doubt lingered in his eyes.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Balman, are you suggesting that Martin killed these men?" Asor chuckled, unable to contain his amusement.

  Even Effia found humor in the accusation, her laughter ringing through the air like a bell.

  Martin felt a wave of frustration wash over him. Was he merely a joke to them now?

  “No, I know he couldn’t have done it,” Balman replied, shaking his head. “I’m just curious. A senior swordsman doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. The title has to be registered with the Swordsmen’s Guild. I want to know who this steel swordsman truly is. From what I can tell, this doesn’t align with the skill of a senior swordsman.”

  Before Martin could respond, Balman was interrupted by the commotion nearby. He quickly added, “Perhaps this swordsman isn’t a senior after all. Maybe he was just pretending to be one.”

  "That's possible," Balman conceded.

  Effia pressed Martin for details about his imprisonment. As he recounted his experiences, her youthful face shifted from concern to sympathy. She placed a comforting hand on Asor’s shoulder, adopting a tone that felt both sincere and slightly patronizing. "You’ve endured so much. This incident reflects poorly on our city government. I will ensure my father compensates you."

  Martin felt a flush of embarrassment. "That’s unnecessary. What kind of compensation are you considering?"

  Effia hesitated. "I’ll have to discuss it with my father first."

  Meanwhile, the city guards had positioned Kerry and Busca side by side. Balman knelt beside Busca’s body, examining it closely. When he noticed a faint mark on Busca’s ring finger, he glanced at Effia, his expression pensive, but he chose not to delve deeper.

  With Balman staying behind with another guard, Martin rode back to the city with Effia, Asor, and the additional guard. They traveled down a hill overlooking Stan City, the weight of the recent events heavy in the air.

  Martin found himself in the carriage that had once belonged to Busca, now a property of the city government. Asor drove, while Effia sat beside Martin, a striking figure in her armor. He felt a strange mix of serenity and curiosity, occasionally stealing glances at her.

  Effia had just returned from a patrol mission, a task meant to guard against the dangers lurking in the surrounding area. The proximity of Stan City to the dark forest often invited trouble, and such patrols were a necessary duty.

  "During this mission, we encountered a third-order wolf tooth beast. It was quite a challenge," Effia said, her voice animated. "In the end, we managed to defeat it, but my sword was damaged." She drew her weapon, revealing a once-majestic blade now marred by rust. "The beast’s venom is corrosive, damaging the enchantments on my sword. I need to find someone to re-enchant it."

  "Enchanting?" Martin perked up at the mention.

  Effia noticed his sudden interest. "What is it?"

  "The enchanted words... Miss Effia, I’d like to try." Martin's voice was steady, his mind racing with thoughts of enchantments and the potential for his own creations, like his version of Iron Man armor.