It had only been a day since Maxwell met Claude Xeranthemum, and already he was finding the man tiresome. Claude's constant presence bothered Maxwell, but he chose to tolerate it, focusing instead on his responsibilities. With Gladiolus and Mari at his side, and the demands of his duties, he had more than enough distractions to keep his mind occupied.
To Maxwell's surprise, he received a phone call from Sidgroth. It had been a while since their last conversation, and Maxwell had assumed Sidgroth was preoccupied with his own duties. During the call, Sidgroth informed him that he had reached Magnolia about four days ago and had been assisting his old teammate, Kana Aoki, with a task. Now that the task was complete, they were heading toward Legis to address the portal incident.
Before ending the call, Sidgroth assured Maxwell that he planned to stop by Calla Lily on his way back to check on the town. Maxwell felt a wave of relief, it was comforting to know Sidgroth hadn't forgotten about them.
Just as Maxwell was about to begin his patrol, Claude appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing in his path.
"Fight me, Maxwell," Claude said bluntly.
"Excuse me?" Maxwell blinked, caught off guard by the sudden request.
"I wish to test your strength," Claude explained, his silver eyes narrowing slightly. "I want to see firsthand, the power of an out worlder."
Maxwell sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I've got a patrol to do. I'll let you know later—after I'm done," he said, walking past Claude and continuing on his way.
Claude nodded, his expression unreadable. "Very well, as you wish, Maxwell," he said before vanishing into the shadows without another word.
Maxwell shook his head, muttering under his breath. "This guy just gets stranger by the minute..." His opinion of Claude hadn't changed—he was still as bizarre and mysterious as ever.
Hours later, Maxwell met up with Mari to fill her in about Claude.
"So, that's everything with this Claude guy," Maxwell said, leaning back in his chair.
Mari's brow furrowed as she listened. "I don't like this, Maxwell. Someone showing up out of nowhere, knowing about you being from another universe, and now insisting on fighting you? That doesn't sit right with me."
Maxwell shrugged, though her words clearly gave him something to think about. "I get where you're coming from, but honestly, I think he's just... different. A little intense, sure, but I don't think he's trying to start a fight just for the sake of it."
Mari leaned forward, her tone firm. "Different or not, he clearly has his own agenda. You can't just take someone like that at face value. What if this 'test of strength' is just a cover for something else?"
He sighed. "I'm not saying I trust the guy completely, but I don't want to jump to conclusions either."
"Just be careful, Maxwell. You've gotten stronger, but that doesn't mean you should take unnecessary risks. If he's really from some organization, like he claims, you don't know what kind of organization it is despite what he has told you."
Maxwell smirked slightly, trying to ease the tension. "Don't worry, Mari. I'll handle it. Besides, I've got you and Gladiolus. What could go wrong?"
Mari didn't laugh, her eyes serious. "Plenty could go wrong if you let your guard down. Just promise me you'll be careful, okay?"
His smirk softened into a sincere smile. "I promise."
Maxwell stood up, stretching slightly. "Well, I better get going and finish that last hour of patrol," he said.
Mari nodded as she gathered her things. "I need to head back to the Healers' Guild as well," she replied.
"Talk to you later, Mari," Maxwell said as he turned toward the door.
"Be careful, Maxwell," Mari added softly before heading in the opposite direction.
As Maxwell walked through the streets, he called out, "Claude!" Within seconds, the silver-haired man revealed himself, stepping out from the shadows.
Maxwell sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you seriously watch me every second, or do you keep yourself entertained while stalking me? Like, I don't know, playing with your phone or something?"
Claude smiled. "I play my gacha games while I follow you," he replied nonchalantly.
Maxwell was caught off guard, "Seriously? You're playing gacha games while following me? How does that even—"
Claude interruptes, "Multitasking is an essential skill, Maxwell."
Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Watching me and playing gacha games doesn't exactly sound like a priority... or essential..." he sighed.
Claude, however, grinned proudly. "Oh, but it is. I'm top 10 in the game, you see," he said, holding his phone, showing off.
"R-right. Anyway, I have my answer, Claude. I'll agree to spar with you." Maxwell gave in with a resigned shrug.
"Excellent, Maxwell. Let's make haste and begin." Claude put his phone into his pocket, his cloak shifting as the dark magic aura surrounding him began to take form.
"Don't be foolish, not here, we're in public. Let's go to a training ground," Maxwell said, already starting to walk away, gesturing for Claude to follow.
Claude followed behind him. "Oh, you mean Sidgroth's training ground? How interesting, he really has taken you under his wing."
Maxwell didn't respond. The comment wasn't one he felt like entertaining. Sidgroth had been a mentor to him, but that wasn't something he needed to explain to Claude. Instead, he focused on getting to the training ground where they could spar without drawing attention.
As they reached the training grounds, Maxwell turned to Claude, his stance steady. "Alright, let's get this over with."
But as soon as those words left Maxwell's lips, he was struck across the face by what seemed to be a swipe made of dark magic energy. The force of the blow sent him staggering back, his hand instinctively rising to his cheek where the magic had left a faint burn.
Maxwell's eyes narrowed, "you never said you'd start like that," he grunted, wiping a small drip of blood from the corner of his mouth.
Claude stood still, his cloak swirling around him with the faintest hint of dark energy radiating off him. He smirked. "A true fight doesn't wait for you to be ready," he said.
Maxwell took a deep breath, feeling the sting of the strike fade as he steadied himself. He'd been through worse — this wouldn't be any different. His gaze locked onto Claude, the challenge clear in his eyes.
"Then let's see how well you can handle me." Maxwell said as his body subtly adjusted, preparing for the next move.
Claude's hooded cloak seemed to cast the spells as he stood still, dark magic surged from the fabric. Maxwell gripped his mace tightly, he braced himself, quickly stepping to the side as a dark energy projectile shot towards him, narrowly missing his shoulder.
Maxwell twisted his body, using the mace's head to deflect another blast of dark magic that came his way. He continued to push forward, his goal was to close the gap between him and Claude.
But with every step Maxwell took, Claude was one step ahead, effortlessly retreating. The cloak continued casting more spells from all angles. Every time Maxwell attempted to get close, Claude would slip further away, a mocking smile on his face.
Maxwell gritted his teeth. "Tch. You're not even trying to fight up close," he muttered under his breath, frustrated with the constant retreat.
"Why waste energy when I can just let the cloak do the work?" Claude said, his tone light and almost playful. "You're going to have to be faster than that to catch me."
He couldn't keep chasing Claude forever. With his opponent's strategy becoming clear, Maxwell knew he needed to change his approach. The dark magic coming from the cloak was constant, making it difficult to keep up the offensive without being overwhelmed.
Maxwell spontaneously made a decision. He shifted his stance, without warning, he threw the mace into the air, watching it twirl for a moment before he leapt toward it.
Claude was surprised, and he didn't have time to react. Maxwell, jumped forward and grabbed his mace as he landed in front of Claude.
Maxwell swung his mace with force, aiming for Claude, but to his surprise, the cloak condensed with dark mana, absorbing the blow as if the cloak itself were alive.
Claude sighed, now seeming uninterested in Maxwell's assault. His hand finally moved, he placed it against Maxwell's chest, and before Maxwell could react, a blast of raw dark energy erupted from Claude's palm. The force of the attack was like a train crashing into him, sending Maxwell flying backward through the air. His body crashed violently into the ground, rolling and skidding until he finally came to a stop. His natural magic barrier was now damaged.
Maxwell lay on his back for a moment, dazed by the force of the blast. His chest burned where Claude's energy had struck. He pushed himself to his feet.
"Not bad," Maxwell muttered, "but I'm not done yet."
Claude stood still, his expression calm, almost bored, watching Maxwell like an observer at an exhibition. "I didn't expect you to go down that easily," Claude said, his tone nonchalant.
Maxwell gritted his teeth, glaring at the man. "If you think that's going to stop me, you've got another thing coming," he said, tightening his grip on his mace. His body ached, but the fire within him had only grown stronger. "Let's see if you can keep up."
Claude smirked as he raised his hands, dark mana swirling around him like a storm cloud. "Very well..."
Before Maxwell could react, Claude unleashed another burst of dark energy, more concentrated than the last. The ground trembled slightly, Maxwell barely had time to dodge as the energy surged toward him, narrowly avoiding it.
"Bring it," Maxwell muttered under his breath.
Unknown to Claude, Maxwell had developed his Color of Luck Ornament and learned a new spell for it. "Fortune's Gamble!" Maxwell called out, and with his words, three cards made of mana appeared above both him and Claude.
"Hmm, what's this?" Claude asked.
Maxwell didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the hovering cards. He wanted the outcome to be a surprise, but in his mind, he knew exactly how Fortune's Gamble worked. Just like blackjack, the goal was to get as close as possible to 21. Whoever reached 21, or came closest to it, would win the game. However, there was a catch: if either player went over 21 or fell short, they would lose. To make things even more interesting, each player was only allowed one chance—once the cards were revealed and flipped, that would be the result. There would be no second chances.
Claude looked the cards, clearly unsure about what to expect, but Maxwell could see the uncertainty in his opponent's eyes.
Maxwell took a deep breath, the mana cards above him and Claude glimmered as the energies around them pulsed. Maxwell wasn't just relying on his luck; he had learned to trust his instincts, knowing how to maneuver situations like this.
"Go ahead," Claude said. "Flip the cards. Let's see who truly holds the better fortune."
Maxwell smiled, he raised a hand and swiped it through the air, causing the three cards above him to flip over.
The first card revealed was a 7, the second a 4, and the third—an Ace. Maxwell smirked as the cards settled into place. He had a total of 12, but with the Ace's flexibility, it could either be 1 or 11, giving him a strong possibility of hitting 21.
Claude was silent as he flipped his cards. The first revealed a 10, the second a 6, and the third—a 3. His total was 19.
"I'll take the 11," Maxwell said, he had made his decision, and his total now stood at 21.
Claude, still trying to keep his composure, let out a small sigh. He had fallen short by just two. He was confident his cards had been close, but it was clear he couldn't compete with Maxwell's final hand.
Maxwell felt a surge of power, the effects of his victory flowing through him. His movements were faster, his strength doubled, and he could predict Claude's next actions as if he had premonition. Every instinct sharpened by the enhanced luck that surged through him.
Claude, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight on his movements. His spells came out wrong, flickering erratically, and his body felt sluggish. He could sense the curse weighing on him, his mana draining away at an alarming rate. Half of it was gone in an instant, leaving him feeling even more vulnerable.
Maxwell could see the cracks in Claude's confidence. His opponent was clearly reaching his limits, and Maxwell could feel the seconds slipping away—soon, the effects of the Fortune's Gamble would wear off.
The battle wasn't over yet, but Maxwell had already gained the upper hand.
When Claude's cloak cast spells, they went all over the place, missing their intended target. As Maxwell closed the distance quickly, Claude stumbled backward, tripping over seemingly nothing. Just as he was about to get back on his feet, he began to cast a powerful spell, but before he could complete it, it exploded in his hands.
This gave Maxwell the opening he needed. Without hesitation, he swung his mace, striking Claude squarely in the chest. The impact sent him flying backward, crashing to the ground.
Claude quickly pushed himself back up, wiping dust from his cloak with a small smirk. "Impressive, Maxwell," he said, conceding the spar. "I concede. I never expected for your luck Ornament to be this strong."
Maxwell stood his ground, his mace still in hand, but he didn't lower it just yet. "It's more than luck, Claude," he replied, watching his opponent carefully. "It's about learning how to use it."
Claude chuckled, a laugh escaping him as he steadied himself. "I'll admit, you're a worthy opponent."
Claude straightened up and gestured as if to signal the end of the spar. "For now, I'll call it a day. You've earned this round, Maxwell."
With that, Claude began to step back, his cloak settling around him as he prepared to leave.
"Until next time," Claude said with a grin before disappearing into the distance.
Maxwell took a deep breath, his body still buzzing from the effects of his luck. There would be other challenges ahead. For now, though, he had won, and that was enough.
"That's not even the exit, but there he goes, disappearing in the shadows just like Gladiolus," Maxwell muttered, watching Claude vanish into the distance. "What a strange guy. I felt like he wasn't taking this sparring match seriously..." Maxwell sighed.
He shook his head, Claude's unpredictable nature made it difficult to gauge how much of a threat he truly was. But at least for now, Maxwell had the upper hand.
Claude stood on top of a building, casually playing with his phone. "His power is still very raw, but nonetheless, it is undoubtedly powerful. As expected from one training under Sidgroth. I suppose I should try taking a more friendly approach," he sighed, putting his phone into his pocket.
"Until tomorrow, Maxwell..."