Chapter 22 – The Past of Rex
Saturday, November 22
Flore Kingdom, Magnolia Town
X774 (Two Years Ago)
The streets of Magnolia Town bustled with life. Merchants shouted over the hum of the crowd, stalls overflowed with colorful goods, and children darted between shoppers' legs.
Through it all moved a figure cloaked in black. A high-collared cloak draped over his frame, hood shadowing his face. Fitted black pants and simple sandals peeked from beneath, while loose white training pants, tied with a woven black belt, swayed with each step.
He walked calmly through the market, unbothered by the chaos.
"Fresh fruit! Straight from the eastern orchards! Don't just stare—grab a sample before someone with faster hands takes it!" a vendor called, waving a basket of apples.
"Oh, Magnolia's been noisy since sunrise," an elderly woman muttered to herself. "Festival is coming… or someone from Fairy Tail in a mood again."
"Watch the crates! The last thing I need is another guild member crashing through my storefront!" a shopkeeper shouted, flailing at a toppled display.
None of it fazed him. He had grown up here; the noise, the bustle, even the occasional guild-related chaos had become background static in his life.
He paused in front of a fruit stand, eyes narrowing at a shiny red apple. "How much for two of these?" he asked calmly.
The owner, a man with messy dark green hair and brown eyes, squinted at him. "Hm… judging by your height and voice, you look like a teenager."
The boy's tone sharpened, just slightly. "How much for two apples, old man?"
"Old man, huh?" The vendor's eye twitched at the word. "Normally… two Jewels. But for that comment? Five Jewels!" He flashed a mischievous grin.
"Tsk." The boy clicked his teeth. "I wasn't planning to pay anyway."
Before the man could react, the boy's hand shot out, grabbing two apples. He kicked off the ground with a burst of speed, startling nearby shoppers.
"Hey! Kid! Stop!" the vendor yelled, sprinting after him.
Bystanders gasped as the boy brushed past them, knocking a few off balance. With a fluid crouch, he launched skyward, landing on the side of a building. A single springing leap later, he reached the roof, vanishing from view.
"The hell…?" the vendor muttered, crouched for breath, eyes wide at the display of pure agility. "An apple… and he's that fast?"
He shook his head. "Whatever…" Turning back to his stall, he failed to notice the two apples missing from his basket.
---
On the rooftop, the boy finally slowed, dropping to a seated position. He bit into one of the apples, savoring the crisp sweetness. Slowly, he pulled back his hood.
Golden-blonde hair fell in slightly messy, uneven strands. Sapphire-blue eyes—brighter, more open than in adulthood—surveyed the town below. His cheeks still held the soft roundness of youth, though a trace of determination flickered in his gaze.
"Everyone thinks I'm a teenager… but I'm way too tall for that," the boy murmured to himself, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
This was Rex, two years younger, still learning the world and testing the limits of his agility, curiosity, and wit.
Leaning back, Rex stretched out on the rooftop, resting with an apple between his teeth. With his free hand, he lazily tossed the second apple into the air and caught it over and over again.
"I wonder what I should do today…" he muttered around a bite, wearing a carefree smile. "Kinda feel like taking a job. But which one?"
For most mages, Guild Jobs & Requests were the most stable source of income. Towns, merchants, nobles, kingdoms, even regular citizens sent requests to guilds every day.
The jobs came in all shapes and sizes.
"Monster Beast Hunts, maybe? They're easy money, track down a magical beast bothering a village or blocking a trade route…" Rex mused, chewing loudly.
Then he sighed and shook his head. "Can't do those. I need to be in a guild."
He took another bite, thinking. "Maybe Government-Sanctioned Contracts? Magic Council, military branches… those pay stupid well."
Stopping magical disasters. Retrieving dangerous artifacts. Collecting rare reagents for state labs.
Again, he shook his head. "And again… you need a guild. They want someone to blame if things go wrong."
He let his arms fall to his sides. "Man… not being part of a guild sucks. I mean, I guess I'm not even technically a wizard. Not officially."
He finished his apple, stood up, and dusted off his cloak.
Rex was an Independent Mage, unrecognized by the Magic Council, unaffiliated with Legal Guilds, and uninterested in Dark Guilds.
Then, suddenly, his expression sharpened.
"Hmm… I'm in a fighting mood today," he said with a grin. "Guess I'll go hunt some bandits."
Bandit & Criminal Suppression. Rogue wizards. Bandit groups. Dark guild leftovers. Illegal Lacrima traders. Smugglers.
He walked to the edge of the rooftop, stepped forward, and dropped. Wind rushed past him as he fell, his golden hair flickering in the sunlight.
'I grew up in Magnolia. Been here as long as I can remember. My parents… I don't remember a thing about them. But honestly? I never cared.'
Most people would have felt lonely. Never knowing a mother's warmth.
A father's stories.cNo birthdays. No holidays.
No siblings. No friends.
Nothing.
But Rex felt nothing toward the emptiness.
Why mourn something you never had?
He landed lightly in a narrow alleyway. Just ahead, something stirred.
A dying creature, small, thin, starved. Its breaths were shallow, its body trembling.
It was in its final moments.
Rex walked toward it, dropping the apple core to the ground.
"A wolf mother teaches her cub to bear its fangs," he murmured softly, "not because the world is cruel… but because she knows one day she won't be there to shield it."
He knelt beside the struggling animal and set his remaining apple before it.
"But if the cub becomes strong… only to lose her to the world's cruelty…" His voice lowered.
"Is that strength a gift? Or the last wound she left behind?"
The creature weakly turned its head, meeting his eyes.
Rex smiled, quiet, almost gentle.
"I've asked myself that question for a long time," he whispered. "And somehow… it brings me comfort."
He reached out slowly.
"Wouldn't you agree, little wolf?"
Without hesitation, a bright green magic circle flared to life beneath Rex's feet. The air rippled, and his body began to lift—slowly at first, then smoothly rising off the ground.
Within seconds, he was high above the rooftops, floating effortlessly.
"Now…" Rex smirked, tilting his body forward as he accelerated into the sky, "let's go find some bandits."
---
Six hours later.
Nightfall.
Deep inside a forest, a band of rough-looking men sat around a crackling campfire. Shadows stretched long against the trees, their flames the only light for miles.
"Tch… you hear what happened out east?" one bandit grumbled, sharpening his blade. "Another town wiped clean off the damn map."
"Yeah. And it wasn't a guild war either," another muttered, pulling his cloak tight. "People are whisperin' that name again… Deliora."
"Oi, shut it," a third snapped. "That monster's just a bedtime story. 'Eat your veggies or Deliora will eat you instead,' that kinda crap."
But the nervous shake in his voice betrayed him.
"If it's just a story," a fourth said, biting at his nail, "then explain the smoke trails over Isvan. Earlier this year, something walked straight through the land like it owned the place. Three cities… gone. Fast."
"…You actually think it was him?" the second bandit whispered, jaw tightening.
"Think it?" another barked out. "I saw what was left. The walls melted like wax. Entire stone districts crushed to dust. No mage alive does that. Not that fast. Not on that scale."
"They say after Isvan, he went north… all the way to Brago," someone else added in a low voice. "Just marched in and started another rampage like he was followin' a damn schedule."
A tense silence settled over the camp.
"Heh. Doesn't matter where we run," one bandit muttered at last, shoulders tensed. "If it really is Deliora… all we can pray for is that he's headin' the other way."
Nobody disagreed. Their pale faces said enough.
"Heh! What a bunch of losers."
Every head snapped toward the sound.
Up in a tree, legs dangling, sat a blond boy with a sharp grin.
Rex.
"Look at you," he said, voice dripping with mockery. "Cowering around a campfire. Are you sure you're bandits and not a bunch of scared kids?"
"I—I didn't see him there before…" one whispered.
"What's a brat like you doin' out here?" another sneered, rising to his feet. "Ain't it past your bedtime? Where're your parents?"
One by one, the remaining bandits stood up, weapons drawn.
Rex just chuckled.
He dropped down from the tree, landing lightly on the dirt.
"Don't know. Don't care," he said casually. Then his grin sharpened, twisting into something fierce and wild. "The only thing I do care about… is testing my strength."
He raised a hand and pointed at all of them.
'One… two… three… Seven bandits in total.
Perfect.'
"You really think you can take all of us?" one bandit growled, gripping his weapon tighter. That confidence—the kid's entire attitude—infuriated him.
"I don't think so." Rex spread his stance, magic crackling faintly around him. "I know."
His eyes shone with excitement.
"C'mon then…" he said, baring his teeth in a smile. "Let's do this. One versus seven."
"That's some arrogance," an irritated voice growled. "But that's fine… I'll beat every drop of that cockiness right outta you!"
He stepped forward, a large man, roughly 175 cm, broad through the shoulders and heavy in build. His skin was rough and sun-beaten, the kind of weathering earned from sleeping on dirt roads and robbing travelers for a living.
His eyes were a dull, muddy brown, set beneath sword-shaped eyebrows sharp enough to look carved onto his face.
But it was his hair that really sold the madness.
Jet-black, jutting straight upward in uneven, chaotic spikes, like someone had grabbed his head and electrocuted him. A few clumps bent at awkward angles, giving the impression he'd lost a brawl with both gravity and a hairbrush.
Part-porcupine.
Part-lunatic.
All trouble.
With a roar, he kicked off the ground and charged Rex. He drew his fist back, veins bulging, and slammed it downward.
BOOM!
The impact cracked the earth apart, kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke.
"Hm! Not so impressive," the man scoffed as the dust settled. "Guess all that arrogance was—huh?"
His face twitched as he noticed the pale, horrified expressions of the other bandits.
"Huh? What's wrong with you idiots? Why're you lookin' at me like that?"
One bandit shakily raised a trembling finger toward him.
"Y-your… arm…"
The man blinked, confused, then slowly looked down.
Drip. Drip.
Blood pattered at his feet.
"That punch was good," said a voice above them.
They all snapped their heads up. Rex stood casually atop the same tree branch as before, completely untouched, as if he had never moved.
"But unfortunately for you…" Rex dropped something.
Thud.
His severed arm hit the ground with a wet slap.
"It lacked conviction," Rex finished with a grin.
"That bastard…HE TOOK MY ARM!!" the bulky man screamed, voice breaking into animal panic.
Rex leaped from the branch with a short, explosive shout.
"HAA!"
He appeared in front of the man and drove a lightning-fast jab straight into his face—a clean, sharp punch, knuckles snapping forward with perfect precision.
The man's head snapped back violently.
Before gravity reclaimed him, Rex stepped in and drove a rising uppercut straight into his jaw.
CRACK.
The blow lifted the man clean off his feet. He hit the ground like a dropped boulder, eyes rolled back, mouth slack.
He was out cold.
"Hahaha!" Rex laughed, wild and bright. "You guys are nothing but amateurs!"
He casually raised a hand
clack!
and caught a wooden staff mid-swing, stopping the sneak attack in its tracks.
'He blocked it?!' the bandit panicked.
Using the same staff, Rex lifted him up like he weighed nothing.
"Haaah!"
He hurled the man straight upward.
Wind Magic
From the earliest ages of Earth Land, four primal attributes shaped creation: Fire, Water, Earth—and Wind.
Wind Magic, one of the Four Great Attributes, is the breath of the world.
It moves storms.
It pushes oceans.
It feeds fire.
It erodes mountains.
It is everywhere—there is never a moment a Wind Mage stands without the element around them.
Even a novice Wind Mage often moves faster than an average mage of any other element.
'If nature can cut with wind… so can I.'
"Wind Magic: Gale Edge!"
Rex swung his arm. The surrounding air compressed into a razor-thin crescent, a shimmering blade that screamed forward with a high-pitched whistle.
SWISH!
A clean, deep slash carved across the bandit's chest. He hit the ground moments later, unconscious.
The remaining bandits froze, eyes wide.
"H-he's a mage…" one whispered. "And not just any mage… he knows Wind Magic!"
Rex turned toward them, smiling sharply.
"Now," he said, "who's next?"
Wind isn't loud like Fire, or flashy like Lightning.
But it is everywhere.
and that is why it is feared.
AN:
Clarifying before anyone asks—no, Rex did not use Wind Magic to take that arm.
He did it with nothing but brute strength.
(Yes, he's ridiculous.)
He's also around 170 cm at this age.
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