Chapter 168
Chapter 168
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 168
Chapter Title: The Painter and the Canvas
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A 7th-circle black magician, and one of the powerhouses residing on the 98th floor of the Black Magic Tower.
An ancient master, whose age was impossible to fathom, stood there. For Dale, who had just attained the power of the 5th circle, he was the perfect opponent.
Dale, who had merged with *The Book of the Black Goat* and been reborn with a body of ichor, accelerated the jet-black circle coiling around his heart.
At the same time, a single brushstroke was painted over the ink-wash world the old master had unfurled.
It was not the brush held in the hand of the old master, the black magician before Dale.
If this world were a painting, a scene on a canvas… this was a celestial brush, moving as it looked down upon that canvas.
And to Dale, it felt like the brush of an absolute being, wielded to paint over his very existence and erase him.
Furthermore, he could intuit that the brush was moving according to the will of the ‘old master’ before him.
As if he had become a fleeting existence within this canvas… and the old master was flicking his brush to paint over that existence.
That was why Dale swiftly unfurled his own world of ideals, centered at his feet.
To establish a territory that projected his ideals, a crucial step in a duel between high-level magicians.
“…!”
The landscape around Dale's feet warped. And there, the familiar winter night and the jet-black fortress unfolded.
But strictly speaking, it was not Dale's world.
Like the old master's world, it was nothing more than an ‘ink-wash landscape,’ using ink to create shades of light and dark.
Nothing changed. Jet-black ink splattered as if to paint over Dale's world itself.
The landscape depicting Dale's world was submerged in darkness, sinking and vanishing into the ink.
“This world is like a single canvas.”
Evading the ink brush swinging from the sky to paint over him, Dale kicked off the ground, becoming a figure in the painting and fleeing.
And what was being drawn upon the old master's ink wash was not merely a single, haphazard stroke.
An incredibly fine brush simultaneously slashed toward the ground.
The fine brush moved as if dancing, beginning to draw a picture. It was a picture of a creature. Something whose form could not be defined, like a monster from an Eastern painting.
At last, the brush stopped, and the drawing moved.
The painted monster began to live and move.
“There is only one canvas, but the painters who wish to etch their own pictures upon it are countless,”
the old master said.
Hearing those words, the Shadow Lord finally stopped.
At the same time, the single brushstroke swung from the sky to paint over him, and the painted monsters charged like wild beasts.
“…Thank you for the lesson.”
But before the swirling ink that sought to paint over him, the Shadow Lord extended his arm.
The armor of ichor burst forth, and jet-black tentacles began to spray in all directions.
*Fwoosh!*
A single jet-black tentacle coiled around the ink brush swinging overhead, holding it fast.
At the same time, Dale wrapped his tentacles around the brush looking down from the sky and began to move it himself.
*Crack!*
Toward the surging painted monsters, Dale swung the ‘absolute being's brush,’ covering them in ink.
The being within the painting had snatched the painter's brush and begun to paint over the canvas with his own will.
“Is this my brush?”
At Dale's question, the old master chuckled heartily.
“Go on, try and draw,”
the old master said after laughing.
“What do you mean?”
“The picture you wish to draw upon the canvas named the world, my lord.”
“…”
Hearing this, Dale smiled quietly.
“I cannot show you the picture I wish to draw so easily.”
Soon, jet-black tentacles once again rose from his body of ichor, swallowing the absolute being's brush and the entire world of the ink-wash painting.
To finally understand the old master's ideals, and as a magician, to overwhelm and seize control of the enemy's world.
An overwhelming power, enough to swallow the world of ideals unfurled by a 7th-circle magician.
“Ooh, as expected…!”
The old master gasped in wonder.
The swirling tentacles exploded, scattering black blood, which was the very ink Dale used to paint over the old master's world.
The black blood gushed and splattered, painting over the old master's ink wash and swallowing the world of the painting.
From the darkness, a jet-black fortress arose, and the scenery of a winter night began to encroach upon its surroundings.
“I truly look forward to the picture you will paint upon this world, my lord.”
Within the winter night landscape that Dale had unfurled, the old master smiled faintly.
“…”
The world of ideals the old master had shown him certainly possessed a strangeness incomparable to any magician he had faced before.
But the concept and ideal itself was not an incomprehensible one that could never be defeated.
If Dale were to draw out more of Shub's power, the old master was not an opponent he could never win against. However, the old master was likewise not using his full strength.
The world the old master had shown was not one meant for combat or the annihilation of his opponent. There was no malice in it. It was purely a test for Dale.
But if this world of painting were to be utilized as a weapon with thorough malice, that would be a completely different story.
‘At best, my odds of winning are probably 7 to 3.’
Calmly assessing the situation and taking the old master's lesson to heart, Dale bowed his head.
“I can't wait to see the picture you will paint upon the Black Magic Tower, my lord.”
The old master smiled once more.
Soon, the worlds of the two men vanished, turning back into mana, and they were once again on the 98th floor of the Black Magic Tower.
“Now, you should be on your way.”
At the old master's words, Dale bowed his head again and turned away.
***
“You're thinking of something truly outrageous.”
The 99th floor. The Agent of Black, Eris, was there, her monocle glinting as always.
“I don't expect it to happen overnight.”
“It is not my role to deliberate and decide on that matter,”
Dale replied. But Eris shook her head as if there was nothing more to say.
“Now, please go on. The Tower Master is waiting.”
Eris said, and Dale had no reason to hesitate.
***
The pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower. On the throne at the highest point sat the man. He had yet to shed the body of a young boy, but his intimidating presence had not diminished in the slightest.
“Father.”
The Lord of Darkness and Death, Lord Black.
“You have done well.”
His cold, hardened expression finally softened, and he smiled at Dale.
“When you first brought up that story, I honestly thought it was an utterly absurd fantasy.”
But it was not.
“And yet, you succeeded in winning the hearts of all the elders for this unprecedented organizational reform.”
“The old master helped me.”
“That was only possible because you persuaded him,”
Lord Black said.
“I will respect your will and agree to it.”
Before the one who stood at the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower, Dale bowed his head.
“However, it is also true that I am concerned whether the ideal you desire will be safely achieved.”
“I do not believe it can be done with my strength alone.”
As Duke Sachsen's most trusted partner and a worthy representative.
“But I do not believe that the strength of you and the elders, and furthermore, the capabilities our Duchy of Sachsen currently possesses, are in any way lacking.”
To fairly share the wisdom of black with those who cannot use magic, and to accept their ideals to revive the spirit of the Black Magic Tower.
Depending on one's perspective, it would sound like words filled with an absurdly grand ideal.
Nevertheless, Dale was certain.
It wasn't the conviction that the organizational reform he envisioned would succeed.
It was the conviction that if things continued as they were, the Black Magic Tower would never be able to stand against and defeat the Red Magic Tower.
“It wouldn't be difficult for me, or you, or even the power of House Sachsen to maintain the Black Magic Tower's current status,”
Dale said.
“But in the future, we will not be a match for the Red Magic Tower in strength, scale, or anything else. Not unless our Black Magic Tower becomes a monster of truth as it was in the past.”
“I have already sworn not to repeat the darkness of those days.”
“I, too, respect your will more than anything, Father.”
Dale bowed his head.
“That is why I intend to change it.”
“…”
“For us to stand against the spirit of the red without becoming monsters ourselves, the wisdom of the black must be shared with everyone.”
“It will not be easy,”
Lord Black answered calmly.
“But it is worth a try.”
Having said that, he rose to his feet. Seeing Lord Black, still in the body of a young boy, Dale asked again.
“Have you still not been able to restore your body?”
At that question, Lord Black quietly shook his head.
“Then why…?”
As Dale tilted his head in confusion, Lord Black remained silent, not answering immediately. A brief silence fell, and at its end, Lord Black spoke.
“Elena said… she wants me to stay like this for a little longer.”
“…”
Braving a rare display of embarrassment, Lord Black blushed like a boy his age.
***
Some time after that.
An unprecedented event occurred: Sachsen's 'Black Prince' was appointed as an elder of the Black Magic Tower as a 5th-circle magician.
Dale officially became the heir and an elder of the black, securing a position within the tower. This marked the beginning of a wind of radical reform that swept through the Black Magic Tower and Necropolis.
The first was to provide opportunities for those who could not use magic to learn at the Black Magic Tower.
Even those of the humblest birth were no exception.
Several advanced faculties were established as affiliated institutions of the Black Magic Tower, in the form of a university, where even those who couldn't use magic could thrive… but it would take some time before these efforts bore fruit.
Furthermore, the black magicians within the tower who pursued power were separated and absorbed into an organization directly under Duke Sachsen.
Lord Black was also one of the continent's strongest magicians, whose skills were premised on combat prowess.
They were taught magic aimed solely at achieving victory in battles and wars, and they were trained alongside the Night Raven Knights to become the ducal house's sword on the battlefield.
Moreover, the military force of House Sachsen—a synergistic combination of the Black Armor Company, the Night Raven Knights, the high-ranking assassins of the Shadow Court, and the black magicians—began to swell in size with each passing day.
Viscount Dale of Sachsen's business in the Demon Lord's territory also proceeded smoothly, and the northern backwater had transformed into a golden land that could no longer be ignored within the empire.
It was around that time that news of Dale's old master, the wise elven magician, arrived.