Dark Moon
I approached the black mage's corpse.
Pierced by thousands of fragments, the body looked like a porcupine. Of course, that didn't mean it was cute like one.
I cast a glance around. I had to take this corpse and show it to Baron Ptelgar. Just thinking about it was a hassle.
I could just have someone else do it…
Then it hit me—this was the first time I'd ever killed a black mage.
I'd faced mages before. More than once. I'd clashed with them on the battlefield after taking missions.
Back then I killed them when we ran into each other in combat. I've never hunted a black mage down and killed him in his own lair like this.
A mage's residence was commonly called a workshop.
This dump heaped with refuse was, in every sense of the word, a black mage's workshop. If I dug around, something might turn up. Curiosity flaring hot, I decided the report could wait.
My heart started to race.
I was currently concealing my true rank with Transparency magic.
On the surface, I was a 3-Class Battle Mage. I possessed twenty-five mana circuits. Impressive enough on its own—but my actual rank was 4-Class, with thirty-three mana circuits.
I'd reached 4-Class half a year ago and hadn't advanced an inch since. I was still in the early stages of the rank. It couldn't be helped. My current environment was a terrible fit for raising my magical level. Magical materials and information were desperately scarce, and I had no personal workshop for research.
Even so, I wasn't anxious.
Stagnation as one's rank rose was only natural. How short and how effectively you broke through that plateau came down to a mage's capability, talent, and luck.
Stuck in a dump like this, he doesn't inspire much confidence—but he was a 3-Class black mage. There has to be something.
I pulled on gloves, drew a knife, and began searching the black mage's corpse.
I realized anew that bodies no longer bothered me. I think I'd been a little shaken the first time. Now there was nothing. No reaction at all.
Too many fragments stuck in him. It's annoying. Maybe I should have killed him cleaner.
I roughly yanked out the shards embedded in the corpse and checked his clothes and pockets. Something came out of a pocket.
…Medicine? A reagent? Soaked in blood—doesn't look usable.
A ballpoint pen and some stone chips came out as well. The chips seemed to be magical materials, but they didn't interest me.
Hmm?
There was a tattoo on his left shoulder. Hard to make out through the blood, but it was definitely a pattern I knew.
I pulled the remaining fragments free and wiped the blood with a filthy scrap of cloth. The design came into clear view. Three circles—circles nested inside circles.
The symbol of Resistance Echoes…. So this bastard was Resistance.
Resistance Echoes was a force that opposed class society. Also known as the revolutionary army. They existed across the entire world and primarily terrorized nations that maintained hierarchical systems.
Nobles and royalty were their sworn enemies. They believed that only by abolishing the caste system could an equal world be created.
From where I'm standing, they're just pissed off because they don't have anything.
Well, whatever they did was fine by me—as long as it didn't involve me. And right now, Resistance Echoes wasn't what mattered.
Should I, or shouldn't I.
I gripped the knife and deliberated.
Unlike ordinary mages, black mages possessed an organ called a Dark Hole—a specialized organ that converted mana into black mana and stored it.
Methods of obtaining a Dark Hole included organ transplant, organ generation through special rituals… and so on.
In the original game, killing a black mage let you obtain a Dark Hole. They sold for quite a high price.
If a mana awakener transplanted a Dark Hole, they could use black mana even without being a mage. Then, after gaining experience and learning black magic, they became a black mage.
…I'm doing it. Killing a black mage and not extracting the Dark Hole would be stupid. And I'm interested in Dark Holes anyway.
A specialized organ that converted mana into black mana.
If not now, I'd almost never get another chance to obtain one.
I gripped the knife tight and slit open the black mage's belly. The location of a Dark Hole varied by individual. It could sit under the heart, or cling beside a kidney.
Fortunately—if you could call it that—this black mage's Dark Hole nestled among the small intestines, intact and undamaged. I extracted it. About three centimeters in diameter, it looked like a black bead. Black mana radiated from it.
The moment a Dark Hole is extracted, it loses the ability to convert mana into black mana. Instead, if you transplant the organ again, you can use the black mana conversion ability.
An extracted Dark Hole retained the ability to store black mana. It became a kind of black mana battery.
I have no intention of transplanting the Dark Hole. That would degrade the purity of my mana and make it hard to draw out the full power of elemental magic.
I turned the Dark Hole over in my hands. I had a feeling I might be able to use black magic with the black mana in this state. Of course, I didn't know a single formula for black magic, so it was impossible right now.
I took a handkerchief from my pocket and wrapped the Dark Hole. I wouldn't handle an ordinary organ this carelessly, but a Dark Hole was a specialized organ.
Next is disposing of the corpse. Can't let anyone know I took the Dark Hole…. I'll have to mutilate it.
Baron Ptelgar was a shrewd bastard. He'd definitely suspect I'd pocketed the Dark Hole.
Let him suspect. As long as there's no decisive evidence.
I drew out my slightly recovered mana and cast magic. Wind magic tore into the black mage's corpse. It wasn't a pretty sight.
This isn't enough. Once my mana recovers, I'll need to burn the corpse as well.
I looked away from the body and rummaged through the surroundings. No matter how shabby the place, it was a black mage's residence. There had to be something.
Found it.
After nearly forty minutes of searching, I found them.
One was a grimoire—a magic book containing research on expressing the 3-Class black magic Living Bomb as a tattoo.
Looks like he researched it himself. Trying to elevate Living Bomb into secret magic using tattoos?
Why he was so obsessed with Living Bombs wasn't my concern, but it was quite groundbreaking.
Hmm. The tattoo Living Bomb succeeded. He was conducting research to increase the Living Bomb's power.
The other item was a cage of reinforced glass. Inside was a rat—a white one, with a Living Bomb magic circle drawn on its body.
When the black mage died, the black mana in the Living Bomb magic circle evaporated, leaving just a simple tattoo. It won't explode. This is just an ordinary rat with a magic circle tattoo.
There were various types of magic circles. Representative ones were activation-type and continuous-type. The Living Bomb magic circle was activation-type.
I picked up the grimoire. It was closer to a research journal—which made it all the more useful to me.
Shame that the only magic written down is Living Bomb black magic. Still, it's helpful.
The black magic formula itself wasn't special. The formula felt a bit twisted, but it wasn't hard to understand.
There was one special thing about black magic formulas. They didn't respond to ordinary mana—only to black mana.
…If I can just handle black mana, I can use black magic too.
After rereading the grimoire, I conjured Fire magic and burned it. Then I gripped the Dark Hole in one hand and stared at it.
Let's try moving the black mana in the Dark Hole. The way I seize control of mana….
The black mana in the Dark Hole didn't budge.
…Not like this.
I narrowed my eyes. After trying several different approaches, I opened my mage's spirit—my Astral.
I perceived the Dark Hole through my Astral. The Dark Hole resting on my palm felt as if it had become part of me. I could feel the black mana.
Here was the problem. For mana to become magic, it had to go through a processing stage—converting it into a formula through mana circuits.
The Dark Hole is external, so I can't use my mana circuits. But….
There was no law saying the process of converting mana into a formula had to be done only through mana circuits.
There's something perfect right in front of me.
The magic circle drawn on the body of the rat trapped in the glass cage.
Black mana stirred from the Dark Hole and seeped into the rat. The magic circle activated. It wasn't simply a matter of pouring in black mana. It activated because I fully understood the magic circle.
Success.
I could feel the connection to the Living Bomb magic circle through the Dark Hole.
Barrier
First I wrapped my body in a Barrier.
Explode.
Boom!
The rat exploded. The glass cage shattered and the shockwave rattled the Barrier. Then the explosion faded. On the floor lay the rat's blood and scraps of entrails.
"Ha, hahahahahaha!"
Laughter burst out of me.
Mages couldn't use black magic. That was common knowledge in this world.
And just now, that common knowledge had been shattered. Absurdly easily.
Who would have thought my Astral could seize and use a Dark Hole that hadn't even been transplanted…. Can other mages do this? …No. Impossible. If it were possible, it would already be known. The original also firmly established that mages can't use black magic.
Giggling, I operated my watch and sent a message to No. 212.
"Puhahat! Who would have thought you'd find and kill the black mage in a single day! How did you find him?"
Baron Ptelgar asked me, sneering at the black mage's corpse. I gave a suitably edited explanation starting from my visit to the tattooist.
"Heh. So you moved like a complete idiot. By now the police must be going crazy trying to track you down."
"It doesn't matter. I thoroughly concealed my appearance."
"No. 211, was it? Quite capable. Come work under me. I'll make sure your salary is nothing to envy."
"I'm grateful for the high evaluation, but I'm a soldier."
"Just discharge, then."
"Discharge isn't something I can choose freely. I need my superior's permission. And that permission will never come."
Baron Ptelgar twisted his mouth in dissatisfaction. But he soon composed his expression. No matter how much of a noble he was, he had no authority to interfere with the military.
"If you ever do discharge later, contact me. I'll treat you well."
"Yes. I'll do that."
I said something I didn't mean. Ptelgar pointed at the black mage's corpse with his chin. The bodyguards standing behind dragged it away.
"They say there's no Dark Hole even though he was a black mage."
"The battle was intense."
"You didn't pocket it, did you?"
"Absolutely not."
"…Hmph. Fine. I'll be satisfied that you caught and killed the black mage. Who would have thought Resistance Echoes would target me. Thinking about it again pisses me off."
"……"
Baron Ptelgar stretched his short, thick arms toward the prostitutes. They put on fake smiles and nestled against him. He glanced at me and said in an irritable voice:
"What are you looking at. Get out of here."
Hiding the murderous intent I felt toward him, I went outside.