Chapter 310
Chapter 310
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 310
Chapter Title: Uninvited Guest (3)
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After finishing his conversation with Yareli, Oliver left the entertainment district, hailed a nighttime taxi, and headed straight home.
As usual, he unpacked his things, stripped off his clothes, showered, and satisfied his light hunger.
As if nothing had happened.
But that was as far as it went. After that, Oliver moved in a way that deviated from his plans.
The moment he finished his light meal, he did the dishes, made "some preparations," and got dressed again.
Not in the attire of Xenon Bright, personal staff to a Magic Tower professor, but in the outfit of Dave Light, the fixer.
Then, he activated the Stalker he'd planted on the woman earlier when he'd punched her in the stomach, tracked her location, arrived at this sewer, and casually joined their conversation.
"-What do you plan to do?"
"......!!"
It should have been a perfectly natural entrance timed to the flow of their talk, but the five women presumed to be Bathory's disciples jumped in alarm, reacting with sharp hostility.
All of them assumed attack stances, and Oliver politely apologized.
"Ah, I'm sorry if I startled you. That wasn't my intention."
To reassure Bathory's disciples, Oliver drew on every bit of etiquette he'd learned for survival—from the orphanage and mines, from blending in with beggar gangs and the House of Angels, and naturally picked up during his Magic Tower days.
However, none of them lowered their guards.
"Who....... are you?"
The woman he'd met in the Magic Tower's entertainment district asked the question, her eyes gleaming with wariness, fear, and faint anger.
Judging by how the others watched her reaction, she seemed to be the leader here.
"Ah, my apologies. I'm Dave, a fixer from Street 30 in District T. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Dave....... I've heard of you. One of the most famous fixers in the city right now."
The woman's wariness intensified.
"Thank you for the kind words, but it's not that big a deal. If it's alright with you ladies, may I ask your names?"
"You don't know our names?"
"No."
"......Then, you just happened to come here?"
The woman scanned the surroundings with a black magician's eyes.
Once she confirmed no one else was around, her wariness eased slightly.
"No, that's not it. I came here specifically to meet you ladies."
"......Us? Why?"
"Well....... I was curious why Master Bathory's disciples crossed the sea to come to Landa."
Perhaps he'd misspoke, because her easing wariness snapped back tight, and the five women immediately sprang into action.
They linked their rituals, pooled their mana, and unleashed ice magic.
Thanks to multiple magicians combining their power, the spell's potency was threateningly high compared to the mana and preparation invested.
It froze not just the floor, but the walls and ceiling—all surfaces.
A technique requiring perfectly synchronized breathing, as if they were one body.
It was truly impressive. Unlike typical families that only seemed close on the surface, these women appeared genuinely tight-knit deep down.
Shadow Tendril
Shatters encroaching ice from floor, walls, and ceiling.
Oliver, separate from his admiration, activated shadow tendrils against the sharply encroaching ice. They shattered every bit of ice covering the floor, both walls, and the ceiling.
Craaaack!! Craaaack!!
The ice advancing to envelop all surfaces was utterly shredded by Oliver's furious shadows.
Normally, in a firepower clash, magic held the edge over black magic, making this a rare case.
It signified how much better Oliver had become at exploiting ritual weaknesses and his improved black magic prowess.
However, Bathory's disciples were no less astonishing.
Even after their combined assault was easily shattered, they didn't panic greatly. Instead, they delegated control to one person to counterattack.
The black magician woman who had ambushed him on the street.
"Hmph!!"
She shone with composure, responsibility, and enmity as she controlled the magic.
Impressively, she exerted influence over the ice shattered by the shadow tendrils, turning the tables to encase Oliver's shadows in ice.
A technique demanding precise control over vast mana.
Oliver was impressed, and the female black magician pressed the advantage, trying to freeze Oliver as well.
"Did that bitch send you to catch us?!!"
Craaaack! With a spine-chilling sound, ice raced up from Oliver's feet along his legs.
At this rate, his entire body would be overtaken by ice in moments.
In the end, Oliver released the mana stored in his body, interfering with the ice magic in reverse—and succeeded.
"Th-this..!"
The female black magicians cried out in shock.
And rightly so, for Oliver had seized control of the ice magic they'd collaboratively created and turned it against them, freezing them instead.
He'd gotten lucky, too.
Their combined power had simplified the ritual's structure, making it easier to hijack in reverse.
As Oliver melted the ice covering his body, he asked,
"'That bitch sent you'....... What do you mean by that?"
"......You saying that's not it?"
The woman, bound by ice, shot back without cowering. Her emotions showed no tinge of defeat, fear, or overwhelm from being subdued.
She soon demonstrated why with action.
"In that case....... I've got a lot of questions for you!!"
The woman shattered the high-density ice and shouted.
Ice infused with mana was steel-hard, difficult to break with raw strength alone—but as Oliver predicted, she drew blood embedded in her bracelet and used Bathory's specialty, blood magic, to shatter it.
"[Blood Fire]"
⟨ Blood Fire ⟩
The woman didn't just use the blood as a weapon; she ignited it like oil, aiding her comrades while attacking Oliver.
Having experienced that attack before, Oliver retreated.
It was a flame that had pierced even his Black Suit, nearly burning him.
Recalling that memory, Oliver acted immediately.
Voracity
Absorbs viscous crimson flames using Black Suit on quarterstaff.
Oliver used the Black Suit wrapped around his quarterstaff to activate Voracity, sucking in the sticky crimson flames of Blood Fire.
Given Blood Fire's property of penetrating defenses, he judged absorbing it more effective than blocking.
His prediction hit the mark. It neutralized Blood Fire more effectively than mere defense.
But he'd overlooked one thing.
Bathory's blood magic was both magic and black magic simultaneously.
Her blood magic, blending emotions and mana via blood as a medium, was a step above ordinary magic or black magic. Even Voracity—which devoured any magic or black magic—was no exception to this rule.
The dozens of mouths on Voracity screamed inexplicably, like a man swallowing boiling water, trying to regurgitate the Blood Fire.
Kek......!! Kek......!
In that brief instant as Oliver pondered what to do with the Blood Fire, the other four of Bathory's disciples—freed with their comrade's help—charged with sharpened nails and teeth.
Each tooth and nail was imbued with black magic that stole control of the flesh.
"Spit it out."
Oliver swung his quarterstaff forward and commanded Voracity.
The scorched interior of Voracity wailed like a scream, spewing sticky flames. The women charging at Oliver were doused head-on.
"Kyaaak......! Kyaaaaak!!!"
"......!!"
"Kyaaaaaaaak!!"
"H-hot!! So hooot......!"
If his memory served, Bathory's disciples were half-zombies, half-living corpses. Yet they screamed like living people.
Left unchecked, that malevolent flame would burn them to ash completely.
"Fall back!!"
The leader-like woman extinguished the Blood Fire and shouted to her comrades.
The women, burned by Blood Fire and scalded by the flames, retreated with cries mixing pain, rage, and humiliation.
Seizing that moment, the leader used a small amount of blood as a medium to activate blood magic, summoning a massive flesh balloon like a giant blister in midair.
If Oliver's memory was correct, a blood balloon.
One of Bathory's blood constructs for storing large quantities of blood.
Proving his guess right, the blood balloon shuddered violently—buuurrrr—pop!—and burst, spilling liters of blood onto the floor.
But that wasn't the end.
She used that blood as a medium to summon more blood balloons, multiplying the volume. Then again, summoning even more—not quite Bathory's scale, but a considerable amount—in an instant.
"Try stealing this too!"
The woman shouted, manipulating the blood to bind Oliver.
Judging by her dialogue and emotional state, this seemed her ultimate technique.
And indeed, it was an impressive feat worthy of the name.
With his own respect, Oliver pulled a test tube from his pocket.
One filled not with emotion, but blood.
As part of his "minor preparations" before coming here, Oliver hurled the test tube, shattered it with a Hate Bullet, mixing his blood with the female black magician's—and seized control.
Just as he had against Bathory in the past.
Confirming his memory wasn't wrong, the blood—which had been impossible to hijack—fell under Oliver's control the moment a few drops of his mixed in.
"......!!!"
The shock was so great that Bathory's disciples all froze in stunned silence.
Too stunned to even speak.
Someone belatedly realized the situation and tried to react, but it was too late.
Oliver manipulated the massive blood like snakes, just as she had, encircling them—then improvised and activated a blood magic spell on the spot.
Blood Web
Transforms elongated blood into vast crimson spiderwebs to bind foes.
Shwaaaa—!!
The snakelike blood elongated at Oliver's will and incantation, spreading into a massive blood-red web that bound them.
In a single breath, the woman—now trapped by her own magic—paled with shock and terror, then wore a look of dawning realization.
"You're....... the one, aren't you......?"
"Wha....... What do you mean?"
"The fixer who went to Mountain Phase with that Magic Tower staffer named Xenon....... They called you Norseman or something...... You're in disguise?"
It sounded like a bad joke, but her emotional state was dead serious....... She seemed to be under some misconception.
Or maybe not so strange.
And perhaps something he could use.
"Who knows....... I shouldn't share job details with third parties if possible."
That only seemed to confirm it for her. The women bound in the blood web all glared at Oliver with intense hostility and suspicion. Of course, they hadn't lost their reason.
"...…What did you do to Mother?"
"Mother meaning Master Bathory?"
"Yes....... Please. Tell us."
She was sincere. Her questions to Oliver were mostly out of concern for Bathory.
It was fascinating, even on second glance. Bathory hadn't shown her disciples any real affection... at best, they were useful tools.
Yet they followed her like a true mother.
A rare sight in typical black magician families.
Seeing that, Oliver wanted to cooperate as much as possible. It would satisfy his curiosity, too.
After pondering, Oliver spoke up.
"If you make peace with me and answer my questions, I'll tell you. How about it?"
Oliver proposed, and fortunately, the woman glanced around and accepted.
The moment she did, Oliver released the blood magic.
"……What do you want to know about us?"
The female black magician asked without dropping her guard.
"Well....... First, could you tell me your names? It makes conversation flow more naturally once I know them."