Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 819: The Leader Of Red Fortis



The Dark Faction Academy wasn't just a single area or place. The actual size of the land where the Dark Faction Academy was situated was fairly large. It was on its own separate piece of land that looked broken off, almost as if someone had made it that way on purpose.

The journey to the academy was up a large mountain, and then, when finally reaching what looked like the only flat piece of land, if one continued to follow the path, they would find a bridge made out of land.

Connecting from one side all the way to the land where the academy was, surrounded by a type of large mist-like area. It was quite the drop if one were to fall. However, even after crossing into the main area, one wasn't in the academy immediately.

The land surrounded by the mist was large enough to be the size of any other city in the Dark Faction territory, and it was treated as such.

There were several living areas outside of the academy, stalls, and the area had its own ecosystem of regular citizens who would also live near the academy. According to Amir, Raze had found out that this had built up even more so after Murkle had become principal, as a number of merchants among others would constantly visit.

There were even a few talented forgers in the academy area itself who made armor and weapons, as well as clothes for the students, among other stalls with everything one needed to live and enjoy everyday life.

Currently, walking through the built-up city-like area was Zon, who was looking at

everything with a keen eye. He had walked past a few blacksmiths and forgeries, looking at their weapons.

"The system states that these weapons are 10 percent more efficient than the ones around the corner. This person is quite skilled. I should make a note of this person and pass the information on to Raze... when I meet him," Zon said to himself and even let out a bit of a sigh.

'It's a shame that I still haven't found the time to speak to Raze about my issues, but it also appears that he will have bigger things to settle. Right now, I don't even know if my matter is urgent or not, nor do I know the full status of the Red Fortis Army.'

Zon continued to walk. He was covered in the normal Pagna cloth that was thin and light over his body. Otherwise, he would have had a large number of stares and heads turning his way due to the strange black suit that was tight-fitting to his body.

No one in the Crimson Crane or those in the academy had seen Zon ever take the suit off; it was almost as if it was part of his body.

While continuing his walk, a message appeared in his view from his system, the same system that was being used by Anna and Liam.

"It appears that this body needs some refueling." Zon turned his head and looked at a large red-roofed restaurant. It was two floors with a balcony on the outside. On the second floor, a large number of people were enjoying the food, and it was the same for the inside as well.

The restaurant was the biggest of its kind-a noodle shop located fairly close to the entrance after the bridge. It was successful because of its positioning. For Zon, it was just the closest place for him at the moment to enter.

As he entered, he was greeted and sat down, ready to eat. He proceeded to look at the menu and placed his order, and it didn't take long for him to receive a serving of noodles in a chicken broth.

Using the chopsticks by his side, he quickly ate the noodles, leaving most of the broth behind. Seeing that he was done, an employee came over.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?"

"No, that will be enough," Zon answered, as he reached into his pocket and handed over 4 bronze coins.

The worker looked at the coins in his hand and counted them again before giving off a fake smile.

"Umm, sir, the rest of the payment?" the worker asked.

"The rest of the payment?" Zon replied. "All the noodle shops for this portion size cost three coins. Due to your prime location, I expect you to charge more, so I have handed you 4 bronze coins instead of 3."

"Sir, that's not how our establishment works. Our food costs six bronze coins; it's not based on how much you feel it's worth, and besides, we make the best noodles in the Academy area."

It was then that Zon scoffed and let out a laugh.

"Your noodles are by far not the best-they were slightly undercooked for one, needing around ten more seconds to be boiled. On top of that, the seasoning was inadequate as well." "It seems like the only reason this place is so popular is due to its location, but a price is a price," Zon said.

Just as Zon reached in to pay for his noodles, he could feel a heavy presence staring at him. A man was walking over who was just as wide as he was tall, dressed in white cloth that had a number of stains covering it. His hair was tied up in a knot going along his back, covered in a type of netting.

"What did you say about my restaurant's food?"

"Sir Rane!" the worker said, turning around and bowing down.

"For someone who was talking bad about our noodles, you seem to have eaten all of that slop," Rane, the head chef and owner of the restaurant, stated.

"I was only stating the truth. I could perform the perfect time to cook noodles and the adequate seasoning that would suit most people's taste. It is... what I do," Zon replied.

Zon could tell that his words were filling Rane with more rage than before, but that was just how he was he was the type of person who told the truth.

"You really think you can do better? Then prove it in the kitchen-don't just say things if you can't back them up," Rane claimed.

Evaluating the situation, Zon figured it would be more trouble for him if he didn't get this over and done with. If he left right now or just paid an amount, the man's character was the type to chase him around.

So he decided to head to the kitchen. This caught the attention of many of the workers, who could see part of the kitchen from where they were.

Rane stood by the side with his arms folded while one of the chefs stood aside, allowing Zon to go ahead and work. They all carefully watched as he prepared everything from scratch. The flour, along with other ingredients, was quickly and perfectly measured, then it was kneaded in the air, spinning it and slinging it into thin pieces. Right after, Zon got to cutting the added ingredients that would be placed with the noodles, quickly and precisely. Each piece of vegetables and herbs cut was nearly exactly the same size. He continued to do this, splicing the noodles inside, and then everything came together as the bowl of noodles had been crafted, steaming hot, for Rane and the other chefs to see.

Just watching everything, all of the chefs wanted to taste the noodles that were created-ones that seemed to be made with a perfect eye for every single detail.

It was then that Rane didn't say anything else as he went to the noodles and brought a small spoon and chopsticks. He brought it to his mouth, taking it in, and taking some of the broth, and he could feel the flavors hitting his mouth, satisfying every single craving he had.

"How is something like this even possible..." Rane said as he turned to look at Zon.

It was a look none of the others had seen on Rane before. They knew he had high standards, and there were multiple times where he criticized the other cooks for the smallest of details.

Not once had he made such a face when tasting their food.

"It can't be that great, can it," another cook said as he walked over and tasted from the same bowl as Rane did. Just after the first sip, his mouth remained sealed shut, wishing to experience every single flavor there was, savoring it in his mouth, thinking that he would

never taste such a thing again.

"I knew it!" Rane said. "I knew it, you thought you could trick me, right? This was a test that you gave yourself to impress me, well, I must say it worked." Rane patted his belly a few times. "That's it, you're hired as our head chef!"

"I'm what?" Zon asked, wondering just what he had gotten himself into-one of the strongest warriors ever to exist, and leader of the infamous Red Fortis Army.

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