Chapter 474: Nine-Star Mage
After Serah and Phantom wandered deeper into the forest, their idle steps carried them farther than intended until the familiar sight of devastation unfolded before her eyes—the very place where she had clashed with the three Purebloods. The ground was still scorched black, trees reduced to ash and splinters. The silence here was unsettling, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath in remembrance of the chaos that had once erupted in this spot.
As Serah stood there, taking in the destruction, a thought crossed her mind—a practical yet worrying one. This place, this secluded refuge Marcus called Tnaji, might not remain hidden for long. The amount of myst energy she had unleashed during her Phoenix State could easily have been sensed by nearby scouting divisions or myst trackers of the Kingdom. If anyone were to investigate the disturbance, they might stumble upon this place... and Marcus.
But strangely, the thought didn’t weigh on her too much. She recalled how calm Marcus had been during the fight, completely unbothered by her overwhelming outburst of power. If there was any real danger, he would’ve warned her—or better yet, he wouldn’t have brought her here in the first place. Besides, the man always seemed two steps ahead of anything remotely troublesome.
"Tch... I’ll just have to ask him about it once I get back," Serah muttered to herself, turning her back to the charred clearing.
With Phantom silently following beside her, the pair began to make their way through the dense woodland. Serah found herself occasionally bringing up random topics—sometimes about the fight, other times about trivial things—knowing well Phantom couldn’t reply. Yet the shadow gave subtle gestures in response: a tilt of the head, a mimic of her stride, a faint nod. Somehow, those small motions were enough to make her laugh.
And through those wordless exchanges, Serah felt something strange—a calmness. She found herself oddly comfortable in Phantom’s silent company, as though it was Marcus’s quieter side following her through the woods.
Nearly an hour later, they returned back to the wooden cabin. The peaceful hush was disturbed only by the crunch of her boots against the ground.
But as she approached the clearing, she immediately noticed something amiss. The pile of chopped wood remained where it was, the axe leaned lazily against a stump—but Marcus was nowhere to be found.
Standing before the cabin, Serah’s crimson eyes scanned the surroundings but found nothing. Not even a trace of his presence.
"Where did he go?" she murmured, brows furrowed slightly.
Beside her, Phantom raised an arm of smoky darkness and pointed toward the cabin door.
Serah followed the direction of his gesture, blinking once before narrowing her gaze at him. "He’s in there?"
Phantom gave an exaggerated nod, his head bobbing dramatically.
Serah squinted suspiciously. There was a faint, mischievous air about the shadow that made her instincts whisper trouble. But shrugging it off, she sighed and made her way to the wooden door, her hand wrapping around the handle.
The moment she opened it, her breath caught in her throat.
Inside, the soft afternoon light spilled into the cabin, illuminating Marcus—his scarred back bare to her view, muscles flexing as he was in the midst of pulling his pants up his hips.
As the door creaked, Marcus paused, then turned his head, catching sight of Serah standing frozen in the doorway—eyes wide, cheeks flushed crimson, words caught somewhere between shock and outrage.
"Oh, hey, princess," he said with that ever-present sly grin, tugging his pants fully into place. "Didn’t expect you back so soon."
He crouched slightly, reaching for an off-white long-sleeved shirt resting on a nearby wooden crate.
Serah blinked hard, shaking herself out of her trance, and spun halfway around, hand shooting for the door. But before she could slam it shut, Marcus’s voice halted her.
"Come on, now. Let’s not act like you haven’t seen me like this a couple of times already," he teased, slipping the shirt over his head. "Besides, I’m done now. No need to step out and make me call you back in."
Her body froze mid-motion, torn between storming off and smiting him where he stood. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Phantom—rolling on the cabin floor, clutching his midsection as though laughing hysterically.
Serah’s eyebrow twitched violently. ’What the hell did I expect from that insufferable man’s shadow? Of course it would be just as annoying as the owner.’
The realization dawned painfully clear—Phantom knew Marcus was dressing inside and had deliberately led her here.
With a deep, weary sigh, she turned back, trying to compose herself. Marcus was now fully dressed, tying his long dark hair into its familiar messy bun, strands framing his annoyingly perfect smirk.
"You liked what you saw, huh?" Marcus said, tone dripping with smug amusement.
"Tch. You and your shadow are clearly no different from each other," she muttered, arms crossed.
"Thanks," Marcus replied lightly as he adjusted his hair tie, the grin never faltering.
"That wasn’t a compliment," Serah snapped.
"I know," he said with mock sincerity, "but coming from you, it feels like one."
Serah let out a groan of pure irritation. He was infuriatingly good at twisting her words.
"Anyway," Marcus continued, dusting his hands and walking over to sit on the wooden crate, "since you’re back, how about we finally have that talk, hmm?"
Rolling her eyes, Serah shut the door behind her with a firm click and walked toward the dining table. She sat across from him, resting her claymore beside her as she leaned back slightly, eyes meeting his.
Marcus smiled warmly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "So," he said in that annoyingly casual tone that somehow managed to sound both teasing and sincere at once, "where do we begin?"
"First thing first," Serah began, crossing one leg over the other as her gaze swept across the small cabin interior, "is this whole forest under a concealment spell?"
Marcus gave a faint smirk as he leaned back against the wall, arms folded. "Yep, but not my doing. It’s my father’s work. He’s the one with space affinity."
Serah raised a brow, genuinely surprised. "I see... I was expecting him to be a dark mage like yourself."
"Oh, he is," Marcus replied with a chuckle. "He’s got dual affinities—space and dark. A real pain to deal with when he’s serious."
"That makes sense," Serah said, nodding thoughtfully. Then her expression shifted, her tone softening but edged with curiosity. "Anyway... who are you, really, Marcus? I know dark mages aren’t governed by the natural laws of Myst like other affinity users. But you—you’re different. Far too different that you’re able to put fear in the hearts of the most powerful demons known to exist—Blood Demons of all beings. And that’s not something an ordinary dark mage can pull off. So tell me... who exactly are you?"
Her crimson eyes locked onto him with genuine intensity.
Marcus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he smiled faintly, letting the silence stretch between them as though the weight of her words demanded stillness before truth could be spoken. "I’ve got to say..." he finally murmured, voice laced with his usual wry confidence, "I’m flattered by your thoughts, princess."
Then, his tone lowered, losing that teasing edge. "But you’re right. I’m not like the others. Never have been. My father told me that since I was eleven—and over the years, I’ve started to believe it."
Serah tilted her head slightly, her curiosity deepening. "What does that mean?"
Marcus glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers slowly as shadows coiled faintly between them. "It means... I’ve had the highest embrace of dark Myst ever recorded—more than any dark mage before me. It’s what gives me a kind of... perfect synchronization with it. My control isn’t just learned—it’s instinctive."
Serah stared at him for a long moment, searching his expression. And though he looked calm and casual as always, she could tell from the subtle gravity in his tone that he wasn’t boasting. He was merely stating fact.
"So," she said, lips curving slightly, "in simpler terms, you’re saying you’re the strongest dark mage to ever live."
Marcus looked at her, then chuckled with that infuriatingly smug grin. "Now that you say it like that... yeah, I suppose I am."
Serah deadpanned, already regretting feeding his ego. "Right. Should’ve seen that coming."
He only shrugged.
"Anyway," she continued, brushing off his grin, "based on what you’ve said, what’s your mystic level? I know officially you’re listed as a Low-Tier Eight-Star mage, but being a dark mage—and you—what level do you really operate at?"
Marcus rubbed his chin in a thoughtful motion. "Honestly? Hard to say. But if I were to make a guess..." He paused, his eyes glinting faintly as he gave a small, nonchalant smile. "I’d say... probably Nine-Star."
Serah’s eyes widened, her breath catching for a heartbeat. A Nine-Star mage—among humanity, that was a god-tier existence, a level that only a handful throughout all of Amthar’s history had ever reached. Even she, at High-Tier Eight-Star, had hit a bottleneck years ago, unable to ascend further despite her relentless efforts.
’So he wasn’t just different... he was a walking anomaly,’ she thought, stunned.
"I guess," she murmured after a moment, her voice steady but thoughtful, "that explains why even the strongest of demons fear you."
Marcus arched an eyebrow before laughing quietly. "First off, princess, Blood Demons aren’t the strongest of their kind. And second, they don’t fear me because I might be a Nine-Star mage." He tilted his head, a hint of darkness flashing behind his grin. "Strength plays a role, sure—but that’s not the whole picture."
Serah frowned slightly, puzzled. "Wait—what do you mean Blood Demons aren’t the strongest? And what do you mean they don’t fear you for your power? Then... what else could it be?"
Marcus sighed, his expression thoughtful, gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if searching for the right words. His voice lowered, taking on that quiet, dangerous calm that always preceded something significant. "I can’t believe I’m about to use this for explanation..." He exhaled softly, then looked back at her with a faint, almost haunted smile.
"Tell me, Serah... are you familiar with the name Scourge?"