Gravity Mage with Level-Up System

From MC’s Perspective:

Stargazing Inn

I stood alone in the dimly lit control room, the soft hum of the machinery around me keeping me company. Suddenly, a loud, frantic noise echoed through the walls, sending a chill down my spine. The commotion seemed to be coming from downstairs, where customers were dining on the first floor.

“Could it be something involving them?” I muttered, frowning as I pieced things together. But my gut told me something more sinister was at play. I wasn’t foolish enough to walk out into the open just yet. If my suspicion was right, this was far from a simple disruption—it was connected to me.

There was a high chance Don Blaire had arrived, most likely with his entourage of wizards. A cold, dangerous gleam flashed in my eyes at the thought. Blaire was a lawless tyrant, trampling over anyone in his path. I clenched my fists. How long did he think he could keep doing this?

Before I could fully gather my thoughts, the door to my room was thrown open. The innkeeper rushed in, looking like he had just seen a ghost. His face was pale, his body trembling, and his shirt clung to his skin, drenched in sweat. Panic radiated off him, his wide eyes darting around the room as if he were searching for something—or someone.

“What terrified him?” I wondered, observing him carefully.

Meanwhile, the innkeeper’s mind was racing. He had hurriedly ushered the other guests—a family of three and an individual—out of the building. But there was supposed to be a fourth guest. This was the room reserved for that very person, yet it stood empty. His shock was palpable as his thoughts spiraled.

“Could the missing guest be behind all this?” he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky.

A cold sweat formed on his brow as the weight of that possibility hit him. The fourth guest had only checked in recently, and now, in the midst of this chaos, they were nowhere to be found. Worse still, he hadn’t seen them leave. Fear gripped him tighter with each passing second.

“What…what’s happening?” he stammered, his entire body trembling as dread took hold.

…

Meanwhile…

Don Blaire stood tall outside the inn, his arms crossed, the cold night air brushing against his face. Beside him was Peter, his ever-loyal servant, equally still, their eyes locked on the inn’s entrance. One by one, the terrified customers were being herded out like frightened sheep. Some looked as if they’d just witnessed their worst nightmare.

A sneer curled on Don’s lips as he studied their faces, watching their every movement. Fear was etched into their expressions, but there was something else—confusion, uncertainty. It amused him, but his amusement was short-lived. His eyes scanned each face with growing impatience, frustration simmering beneath the surface. None of them were the one he sought.

“Peter,” Don finally said, his voice low and laced with disdain, “send them away. He’s not among them.”

He didn’t need to elaborate; the cold smile that danced across his lips was enough. His gaze never wavered from the stream of people exiting the inn, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of the target that had eluded him thus far.

“Yes, young master,” Peter replied obediently, before vanishing into the shadows like a ghost.

The guests, already trembling with fear, barely had time to react before Peter reappeared in front of them. His sudden presence only heightened their terror. His expression was blank, but the ice in his voice sent shivers down their spines.

“You’re free to go,” Peter said, his tone clipped. “The person our young master seeks is not among you.”

Relief washed over the first few guests like a tidal wave. They didn’t need to be told twice. Without a second glance, they bolted, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape. They felt as if they’d been granted a pardon from death itself. But their hurried exit did nothing to ease the tension; more people were still emerging from the inn, and Don’s patience was wearing thin.

With each new face that appeared, Don’s frown deepened. His eyes flicked briefly to Peter, who continued to silently dismiss each group. The steady stream of customers slowed, yet none of them were who Don had come for.

Finally, Gerald, another one of Don’s men, emerged. Behind him were the remaining guests: a couple and four male wizards, their postures stiff with fear. Gerald approached his young master, his face unreadable, but as he waited for a response, Don shook his head again, his jaw clenched in frustration.

Gerald blinked, momentarily stunned. He glanced back at the inn, confusion clouding his mind. These were the last of the visible guests.

“No… there’s still one more,” Gerald thought, his heart sinking. His eyes darted back to the inn, where shadows danced in the flickering lamplight. He hadn’t seen anyone else, but the nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t leave him alone. Somewhere, hidden among the walls of that inn, was their elusive prey.

Gerald’s gaze met Don’s, and for the first time that night, a sliver of doubt crept into his mind.

Don Blaire’s patience was wearing dangerously thin. His eyes narrowed as he glanced toward the spies standing beside him, their faces pale with nervous tension. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the scene, amplifying the growing tension in the air.

“Did you see anything suspicious?” Don demanded, his voice cold and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

The spies exchanged nervous glances, their fear palpable. They knew their answer could determine their fate. It wasn’t just one of them who had spotted the target entering the Stargazing Inn earlier—multiple spies had confirmed it. And yet, now the target was nowhere to be seen.

“No sign of him,” one of them stammered, voice trembling.

Don’s expression darkened instantly, a storm of fury brewing behind his eyes. He could feel the tension crackling in the air, his temper barely held in check. The spies, sensing the danger, stood frozen in place, sweat beading on their foreheads. Fear gripped them, knowing how unforgiving Don Blaire could be when crossed.

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“What do you mean, no sign of him?” Don growled, his voice low but filled with menace.

The spies flinched, their fear now unmistakable. They had no answers, and that only added fuel to Don’s mounting frustration. He wasn’t a man who tolerated failure. His eyes flickered with a dangerous glint, turning a deep shade of red as his fury intensified.

Turning sharply, he directed his attention to Gerald and Peter, who stood a few feet away, awaiting orders.

“You two,” Don hissed, his tone like ice. “Go inside and check. Make sure no one’s hiding in that inn.”

Gerald and Peter nodded wordlessly, immediately moving toward the entrance. The inn was empty—at least, that’s how it appeared from the outside. But Don’s instincts were screaming that the target was still there, hiding in the shadows. He could almost feel it, like a presence lingering just beyond his reach.

As Gerald and Peter entered the inn, the eerie quiet of the building greeted them. The flickering lamps cast long shadows across the walls, making the space feel larger and more sinister than it had moments ago. The silence was oppressive, every creak of the wooden floorboards magnified in the stillness. Dust floated lazily through the air, disturbed only by their slow, deliberate footsteps.

Back outside, Don stood still, his posture rigid with frustration. His eyes never left the inn’s entrance, a scowl etched deeply on his face. The longer this dragged on, the more his anger simmered beneath the surface. He didn’t care who or what he had to destroy to get what he wanted.

The target was still here, somewhere. Don could feel it in his bones, and he wasn’t leaving until he had them in his grasp.

…

The inn owner’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. Sweat trickled down his face as panic seized him. He had never felt fear this intense before, and now it gripped him entirely. The idea of returning to the first floor, where Don Blaire and his men waited, felt like a death sentence. His instincts screamed at him to flee, to run as far as he could before it was too late.

“I have to get out of here,” he muttered to himself, his voice trembling with desperation.

Without a second thought, he gathered what little courage he had left and began to summon his mana. A faint glow surrounded him as the power surged through his veins, his mind racing as he planned his escape route. But just as he prepared to take off, something went horribly wrong.

An overwhelming, oppressive force slammed into him, crushing the mana he had just gathered. It was like a heavy weight descending from the heavens, pressing down on him with unimaginable power. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was happening, but it was too late to react.

Boom!

The inn owner was violently thrown to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud. The wooden boards beneath him splintered, cracking under the sheer force of the impact. A powerful shock wave ripple outward, shaking the walls and sending dust and debris flying into the nearby rooms.