Barkle, his gaze steady, faced Maxim with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty etched across his features.
His eyes flickered towards the enigmatic figure donning the hat, a man whose presence seemed to radiate an air of intrigue.
Gathering his courage, Barkle mustered the words to voice his question, his voice laced with a hint of trepidation, "How?"
The atmosphere in the inn or guild hall was thick with anticipation, and the patrons and guild members alike held their breath, their attention fixated on the unfolding scene.
The sudden appearance of the man in the hat at the back of Barkle sent shockwaves through the room, spreading from one individual to another like ripples on a pond.
Gasps escaped their lips, and eyes widened in disbelief as they witnessed the mysterious stranger tap Barkle's back with a gentle yet significant touch.
In an instant, Barkle's magic aura erupted with a vibrant intensity, transforming into a warrior's aura that enveloped him in a shroud of raw power.
The surge of energy crackled through the air, electrifying the atmosphere and leaving onlookers awestruck.
The man in the hat, who had seemingly vanished from Barkle's side, reappeared at the very spot he had emerged from earlier.
It was as if he possessed an uncanny ability to traverse the realms, leaving behind a sense of wonder and bewilderment.
Maxim, seemingly unfazed by the extraordinary turn of events, wore a knowing smile on his face.
His gaze shifted from Barkle to the man in the hat, as if he had been expecting this revelation all along.
With a voice tinged with a mix of amusement and confidence, he addressed them both, "Alright, come on... Now that your warrior class magic aura has appeared, I'm sure you won't act like a scared cat now..."
The significance of Maxim's words became apparent.
It dawned on the spectators that Barkle's earlier attempts to intimidate Maxim, relying solely on his normal class aura, had been futile.
Different classes possessed unique magical auras, and what worked for one did not necessarily work for another.
Maxim, with his potent intimidation aura, had effortlessly quelled Barkle's futile attempts at intimidation earlier.
It was an unspoken testament to Maxim's bloodthirstiness and aura meant that he isn't an ordinary man with no Mana class.
Meanwhile, the man in the hat stood in stunned silence, his eyes fixed on Maxim.
He marveled at the young man's composure, his lack of fear in the face of the unknown.
The man in the hat pondered the depths of Maxim's character, wondering what kind of life experiences had shaped him into someone who could emanate such a solid and refined killing intent.
Most killers or murderers exuded a scattered and chaotic killing intent, but Maxim's was different—focused and controlled.
The man in the hat muttered to himself in disbelief, "What did this kid experience in his life to harbor such a restrained and formidable aura of death?
"It was far more refined and controlled than the most killers I faced in the past.
"Could it be there's a reason why his Mana class had disappeared and it's connected to his experience?"
As the attention of the onlookers shifted back to Barkle, he seized the moment, unleashing a torrential surge of warrior class magic aura.
A surge of relief washed over him as he no longer felt the suffocating weight of Maxim's killing intent bearing down on him.
The fear on his face somehow disappeared, the palpitations of his heart calmed down too, as if it was preparing himself for the imminent clash with Maxim.
In the midst of their intense confrontation, a sudden ripple in the fabric of reality materialized, and a mysterious figure adorned with a wide-brimmed hat appeared before Maxim and Barkle.
This enigmatic individual possessed an air of otherworldliness, his presence shrouded in an aura of intrigue.
Fixing his gaze upon Barkle, the man in the hat spoke with a voice that resonated with both authority and ancient wisdom.
"Barkle," he began, his words carrying a weight that penetrated deep into the core of Barkle's being, "I have awakened within you the dormant power of your warrior class magical aura. It now courses through your eyes, heart, and brain, shielding you from the malevolent influence of his vast killing intent.
"Now, I hope you would show more resistance now and don't underestimate him."
Barkle gulped his saliva and nodded.
Having conveyed his message to Barkle, the mysterious figure turned his attention to Maxim, his eyes studying him intently.
With a tone that was both inquisitive and concerned, he addressed Maxim, questioning his resolve.
"Are you truly certain that you wish to continue?"
The man in the hat queried, his voice tinged with a hint of caution.
"You have already proven yourself, and your acceptance to the Academy is assured. I am also prepared to grant you the class you desire, but there is no need to push yourself at this very moment.
"However, I am aware that your life experiences have been different, but the presence of a magic-wielding adversary presents a unique challenge.
"Furthermore, your own killing intent would prove futile against him in light of the changes I have wrought.
"However, the choice is still yours..."
For the man, fighting a weapon master without a weapon and exuding an intimidating killing intent like that means Maxim didn't need to prove himself anymore.
Even thoughg Maxim used an underhanded tactic, the man wearing a hat was sure that even without that intimidation, Maxim could still win, as an expert who can see through a lot of things, he is sure about his thoughts.
Meanwhile, as Maxim absorbed the man in the hat's words, acknowledging their significance.
He shook his head slightly, contemplating the gravity of his decision.
Bringing the beer to his lips, he took a long, deliberate gulp, savoring the taste before setting the empty vessel aside.
With a resolute expression, he directed his gaze unwaveringly at the man before him.
"Will you still grant me a dual class even if we do not engage in battle?"
Maxim inquired, his voice steady and determined.
He locked eyes with the man in the hat, the intensity of his stare conveying a sense of unwavering resolve.
After what felt like an eternity, a deep, hearty laugh erupted from Maxim's lips, reverberating through the space around them.
"Hahahaha
"Then, since it's a no, my NPC comrade," Maxim declared, his laughter infused with a newfound sense of camaraderie, "let me face this adversary head-on. Fear not, for once I have imbibed the spirit of the rum, I become an unstoppable force!
"Together, we shall prevail!
"Brahahhaah!"
As soon as Maxim declared his unwavering determination to continue the fight, Barkle, driven by a sudden surge of aggression, lunged forward with a ferocious attack.
However, Maxim was prepared for such an onslaught, his reflexes honed through countless battles.
In that split second, as Barkle closed in on him, Maxim skillfully sidestepped, allowing his opponent to sail past him with bewildering speed.
The crowd, caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, watched with bated breath, their eyes widening in astonishment.
But Barkle's momentum came to an abrupt halt. Suspended in mid-air, he appeared frozen and stunned, his body locked in a bizarre limbo.
The spectators, one by one, mirrored Barkle's state of shock, their jaws dropping and their faces contorting in pure disbelief.
It was then that Barkle's weapon and shield, once formidable symbols of his power, crumbled into mere fragments, disintegrating before everyone's eyes.
The sound of their destruction resonated through the arena, followed by the resounding thud as Barkle crashed to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a force that echoed throughout the hall.
The reactions from the onlookers were varied and vividly portrayed the range of emotions that swept through the crowd.
The man in the hat, known for his stoic demeanor, gaped in awe, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.
The girl behind the counter, normally composed and indifferent, let out an involuntary gasp, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.
The drunkards, usually boisterous and carefree, fell silent, their eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before them.
Even the goons, notorious for their tough exterior, stood rooted to the spot, their expressions a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Meanwhile, Maxim, his hands now clean of the conflict, surveyed the aftermath with a mixture of satisfaction and regret welling up inside him.
For someone like Maxim, fighting opponents of Barkle's caliber was relatively effortlessly easy.
Even if he closed his eyes, he's sure to destroy this opponent easily.
In the UFA, the Ultimate Fighting Association, Maxim had mastered the art of exploiting attacking nerves, striking with pinpoint accuracy to incapacitate his foes with a single blow.
He understood the intricacies of the human body, the vulnerabilities that lay hidden beneath the surface.
Making him destroy every fighter consecutively.
It was also this understanding that allowed him to dismantle weapons and shields, even those infused with magic, as long as they weren't entirely coated in every direction or not coated fully and he could still exploit the parts without magic coat.
Barkle, with his eyes and brain only coated by magic, proved to be no exception, succumbing easily to Maxim's expertise and rendering him unconscious.
And so, as Maxim stood amidst the wreckage, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of remorse deep within his being.
He knew that his abilities granted him a power beyond the ordinary, a power that could extinguish lives with a single kick.
Yet, with that power came the burden of responsibility, the burden of knowing that he possessed the means to end a human life in an instant.
It was a weight he carried with him, a weight that left him questioning the ethics of his actions, even in the face of victory.
"Doesn't matter, I won..."