Storming the Black Mage's Fortress
"Black mage" wasn't a term for someone who'd mastered any particular forbidden spell. The Empire treated mages exceptionally well, so they didn't brand you one just for picking up some shady magic.
Necromancy? Most necromancers were undertakers or gravekeepers who'd stumbled into mystic secrets, and the Empire held them in high regard. After all, only those who'd overcome their fear and revulsion of death to embrace its mysteries could converse with spirits—and unleash tremendous power in a pinch.
Body modification? Perfectly legal with the subject's consent. Mercenaries often got orc arms grafted on after losing theirs in battle, and there were even mage towers specializing in such transplants.
Blood magic? It was a hit in the military. In an army where blood was always flowing, blood mages packed a punch and doubled as field medics. Their ranks were always short, never overflowing with recruits.
Curse magic? As long as monsters kept slinging curses, curse mages were essential for detoxification—and indispensable for slaying powerful beasts. Versatile and welcome, they were favorites among mercenaries.
Demonology? Just don't worship the demons. Report your summons in advance, and an imperial official might even broker the contract or help subdue it. Demons made great, rightless laborers, so the Empire welcomed any it could control.
The Empire doted on mages to a fault, turning a blind eye to most magics. But cross the line, and they cracked down hard. With solid evidence, you could kill a black mage without consequence—noble or royal alike. The moment you breached imperial boundaries, all rights vanished. You became a monster, your assets forfeit to your slayer.
"So if you spot a black mage, catch 'em yourself—or call nearby mages for backup," Suhyun said with a gentle smile to Morian.
To him, black mages were synonymous with golden goblins. Kidnapping, illegal experiments, mass murder, illicit demon pacts... Even half of what the Black Dog had confessed about his master's crimes crossed the imperial line.
"But Malik Twain? He's a famous retired combat mage. You sure about this?" Morian asked uneasily. She'd heard the name from the Black Dog.
Empire-trained battle mages outclassed modern weaponry. Sure, a mage weighed less than a compact car even loaded with gear and consumables—but their firepower and speed rivaled tanks.
Standard battle mages mastered seventeen spells: basic ones like pistol-strength magic bullets for grunts, but mostly heavy hitters for squads, companies, or battalions. Penetrating lances that dwarfed fin-stabilized discarding sabot rounds from tanks. Bombardments detonating massive mana blasts at remote coordinates beyond line of sight. Penetration, destruction, range—nothing lacking.
Plus, mages tinkered endlessly out of curiosity, customizing spells to their quirks, research fields, or battlefield insights. Identical base spells yielded wildly different results, bedeviling foes. Suhyun had seen one mage shred charging monsters with machine-gun barrages from his fingertips; another melt terrain into glass with arcing artillery.
Personal tweaks made standard spells deadly. Veterans iterated relentlessly, optimizing for combat efficiency beyond compare. Human-sized, fighter-jet fast, striking surgically? Seemed unbeatable—yet this world teemed with monsters that hunted such mages.
"If we check it out and it looks too tough, call for backup," Suhyun shrugged.
The Black Dog—crawling on his knees—led them to a massive mansion on the city's outskirts.
As Suhyun pondered reconnaissance, a quest window popped up.
Subjugate the Evil Black Mage
📍 Description: Thanks to a chance encounter with a pickpocket, you've located a black mage lurking in the city. This fiend creates orphans en masse, then drains their mana. Leaving them be guarantees more victims.
📍 With great power comes great responsibility. Subjugate the black mage and rescue the captives.
🎁 Conditions: Subjugate the black mage, rescue the hostages
🎁 Rewards: 5 Judgment Mana, +1 Max Mana per rescued hostage
The Black Dog's word was the only proof against Malik Twain, leaving Suhyun hesitant—until this blatant "go wild" quest appeared. He flashed a feral grin, appraising the mansion.
Towering walls like castle battlements hid the interior; it screamed wealth. Built over a major ley line, it boasted a personal mana extraction tower—and defensive arrays dominating the ambient mana. Military-grade design, optimized against intruders. A combat mage's touch.
Suhyun felt a wicked itch: the urge to topple this hard-built tower.
Ordinarily, you'd overload defenses with repeated great magics. But Suhyun sensed his unique ability fragment inside.
'Wasn't this the place Daiyen mentioned for trading?'
A report flickered to mind: a noble running a major merchant house, owning the region's largest farmlands, wielding huge local influence. Deal with the baron, and you'd corner the territory's gains. Daiyen had beamed about it.
Suhyun messaged her.
Suhyun grinned, clenching his fist. He spread his stance, gathering mana. Morian and the Black Dog sensed doom—an unnatural rift, like a oil daub slapped onto watercolor. Instinct drove them back.
Overlord Heaven-Shattering Art - Castle-Smashing Fist
A crude, brute-force technique Suhyun had whipped up for fun—its effect equally savage and simple. Ultra-dense destructive mana flooded the target's weak points with overwhelming pressure, shattering it. Bigger the foe, greater the devastation. A fist to crumble castles.
The activation unleashed a heaven-rending boom. The mansion's gate exploded into rubble.
"Gah! No friggin' way!"
Gates took the brunt in sieges, so builders lavished them with reinforcements—often tougher than stone walls. Combat mages obsessed over them. Legends said even siege rams all day wouldn't dent one. Yet a single punch from one man pulverized it.
"Bust the gate and stroll in? Yeah, I'm the intruder!"
Magic hinged on symbolism and ritual. By declaring the mansion a "castle," its defenses invoked rules against outsiders while enforcing internal order. Suhyun hijacked that, branding himself the besieging enemy. He stepped inside with a chuckle.
Dozens of security spells swarmed. Gargoyles animated by beast souls lunged, interlocking like a single organism per the caster's design. Infused with monster essences, each outfought the Black Dog: frost wolf statues chilling ankles; flame tigers cloaked in fire, stalking vitals; armored bears charging with steel-hard shells; rooftop thunder wyrms hurling lightning at his crown.
Multi-angle, elemental assault—designed to slaughter intruders. But Suhyun warped it all.
Leg-Breaking Heart-Piercing Art - Heaven-Earth Trampling Step
A snap kick crushed the frost wolf's face mid-bite.
Sun-Piercing Hand - One-Finger Moon-Piercer
Mana-charged fingertip skewered the flame tiger's brow.
Eight Extremes Fist - Iron Mountain Reliance
Full-body momentum slammed the armored bear to scraps.
Taekwondo - Swallow-Splitting Kick
An aerial roundhouse pulverized the thunder wyrm.
Four fluid motions, seamless as a river. Morian and the Black Dog shared a thought: 'He's really a mage?'
The Black Dog—never having seen Suhyun's magic, only sword paralysis, burning shoes, and torture—wondered if he'd mistaken a knight for a mage.
[Who are you?]
Malik Twain's voice echoed via the statues' sound-transmission spell. Suhyun grinned playfully.
"What a beautiful day. The birds are chirping—"
The boom had scattered them; silence reigned.
"The flowers are blooming."
The fight had scorched the gardens bare.
"On a day like this, scum like you should burn in hell."
Activating his magic eye, a bluish flame flickered in one socket.
"Ready?"
Before Malik's reply via statue, Suhyun struck.
"No need to answer—just take the beating!"
Heavenly Demon Divine Art - Stabilizing Strike - Heavenly Demon Overlord Step
Hyper-compressed, refined mana erupted, warping reality's laws. It seized ambient space and mana, crushing it under Suhyun's step—not just physically, but ley lines and spells drawing from them. Absurdity incarnate.
Anyone with a lick of magic knowledge would've scoffed. Malik reeled in shock.
Decades of layered spells and mana twisted under one footfall. Intricate arrays tore; enchanted artifacts failed; ley-fed magics shattered.
Cough!
Synced to the mansion's flows for intruder control, Malik vomited blood, flung from his lord's seat.
'What the hell?'
Even delving black magic for power and knowledge, he'd never seen such dominance. His mana roiled as he fixated on that spell.
'Magic?'
The mansion's mana—his domain—usurped in an instant, then crushed.
'Power-maxed via specific stance?'
'Prepped ritual altar nearby?'
'Rare mystic attribute?'
'Or a martial master enforcing laws?'
Hypotheses raced through Malik's mind—none fitting Suhyun.
'I want it.'
Flames of desire for this new power blazed in his eyes.
'Whatever the cost, I'll seize that strength.'