Clues (3)
The curse. The curse. The curse.
During that brief moment of freefall, Maxim muttered the words to himself dozens of times. He had no way of knowing whether the place he had thrown himself into would become an escape route from danger, or if he had simply become a madman who had willingly leaped into the bottomless pit of hell. Maxim could only pray it was not the latter.
At the end of the weightless sensation, Maxim’s feet touched solid ground. He quickly kicked the unconscious mage into the shadows, then grabbed Adeline and pulled her along as he too slipped into the darkness. The moment they hid themselves, the sound of the dungeon door above being yanked open echoed through the chamber.
“Go back for now. I’ll handle this myself.”
“But if you need help…”
“From here on, this place is no different from a mage’s private workshop. If you’ve spent any length of time in the Magic Tower, you should know exactly what it means to set foot in another person’s private workshop.”
“Professor, but…”
The mage clicked his tongue at the protesting assistant, as if annoyed. A long silence followed, and when it finally broke, the assistant’s voice had grown strangely dazed.
“Yes… Then I’ll return to finish the remaining tasks…”
Before long, one set of footsteps faded away. It seemed the mage had cast some spell on the assistant to drive him off. Once the presence had completely vanished, the sound of a door closing rang out. Then came the mage’s voice, calling for the professor.
“Professor Luke? Is something wrong?”
Maxim held his breath. To hide Adeline’s presence—she was still trembling uncontrollably, not yet recovered—he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his hand. After a short pause, the mage’s voice called out again.
“Professor? What the hell? He still hasn’t come out? What kind of noise did that bastard hear to drag me all the way here?”
The presence was pacing near the dungeon entrance. Maxim sharpened every one of his senses, focusing intently on the mage. The man seemed content to simply wander around the area; he showed no intention of entering the mage’s dungeon.
“I can’t just barge into the professor’s personal dungeon… If I force my way in again, I won’t get off with just a scolding.”
The mage muttered to himself, then suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“That damn old man. Is his memory failing him? He can’t even manage the dungeon entrance properly. I told him so many times—when researching black magic, at least close the dungeon door.”
A clank—the sound of a bolt being undone, or perhaps a support being removed. Then came a dull thud as something heavy struck the floor.
“Damn it. That’s why weird noises leak out and the assistant comes looking for me, you idiot. Doesn’t he realize how busy we are with the investigation teams sent by the royal family and the Benning faction lately? If we get caught, we’re all fucked. Is he doing this because he doesn’t know that?”
After spitting out a string of curses, the mage let out a horrible metallic screech as he pulled the iron bolt. Maxim looked up in alarm. The faint light that had been seeping in was gradually being erased. The dungeon entrance was closing.
Unable to take any action or utter a single word, Maxim could only stare with frozen pupils at the vanishing light.
Thud.
The heavy door slammed shut. Complete darkness swallowed the world.
With his vision cut off, his other senses went wild. The pounding of his heart, even the sound of his shallow breathing, felt deafeningly loud. Maxim forced himself to breathe slowly in his rigid posture, struggling to calm his mind.
“…Damn it.”
The wicked energy permeating the entire dungeon pressed against him. Maxim shook his head, trying to shake off the evil aura that seemed to cling to his entire body. His heart hammered violently. As if responding to that energy, the old wound began to throb again. The familiar pain told Maxim that this was a place where curses and black magic were studied.
He steadied his breathing. He could not allow the remnants of the past to threaten him now. The breathing technique his master had taught him slowly calmed his body. After one final deep breath, Maxim expanded his senses to check whether the mage was still lingering near the dungeon. When he could no longer detect the presence, he cautiously relaxed his tensed muscles.
“He’s gone.”
Next.
Maxim surveyed his surroundings. The mage showed no signs of waking. His breathing was deep; it looked as though he would remain unconscious for several hours. What he had thought was complete darkness revealed a faint glimmer of light at the far end of the long dungeon corridor.
“Maybe this worked out for the best.”
Maxim muttered as he glanced at the fallen mage. Since they had entered the underground dungeon the mages kept so tightly sealed, he would at least be able to explore it before morning came.
“…Adeline. Wake up.”
He lowered his gaze to the trembling figure still clutched against his chest. Adeline was gripping his collar tightly, shivering without pause. Maxim lightly tapped her cheek and called her name, but she only clutched his clothes harder, showing no sign of regaining her senses.
With a sigh, Maxim helped her up. He searched the unconscious mage’s robes for the key to the dungeon entrance, but found nothing—not even a pen, let alone a key. Wondering if it was a lock that didn’t require one, he examined the entrance carefully. The closed door had transformed into a wall that could no longer even be called a door.
“A structure opened and closed by magic.”
Maxim frowned. That left only three options: wake the mage and force him to open it, wait for someone else to come and open the dungeon, or…
“…find another way out of here.”
Although considerable time had passed since the entrance closed, a very faint flow of air could still be felt inside the dungeon. The stale, musty breeze characteristic of dungeons was drifting up from deeper within.
If he searched, he would likely find another exit. And as a bonus, he could advance his investigation considerably. Maxim stared down the end of the corridor with uneasy eyes. Simply exploring this dungeon would be enough to uncover evidence that they were researching black magic. What mattered now was finding clues to rescue Christine.
His wildly beating heart slowed to a calmer rhythm the moment he recalled what he needed to do. His mind grew coldly clear. Maxim glanced at the sleeping mage. If he left him near the entrance, the man would probably assume he had slipped while climbing the dungeon ladder. The next problem was this uncontrollable knight.
Maxim looked down at Adeline, who was now clinging to his collar with almost pitiful desperation, his brow deeply furrowed. He couldn’t simply abandon her near the entrance. Yet having her with him would only hinder the investigation, and a mage’s dungeon was hardly a place one could leisurely explore while carrying extra baggage.
Maxim clicked his tongue. He called her name several times, but it seemed his words weren’t even registering with her in her current state.
“I’m going to hold you to this debt later. A really big one.”
His voice thick with irritation, Maxim supported Adeline and advanced down the dim corridor. Using the gradually brightening light as a compass, he reached the end of the passage, where a staircase leading deeper underground awaited him.
“This looks familiar.”
Recalling the dungeon he had faced during the Academy’s final exam, Maxim smiled bitterly. He never imagined the seemingly pointless test would one day prove useful. The only difference was that the knight who had accompanied him then had not been an enemy who might stab him in the back at any moment, but a lover to whom he could entrust his life without hesitation.
Maxim drew his sword. Even the descending stairs in a dungeon could not be taken lightly. The moment a mage’s workshop detected an intruder, even a single brick in the wall could transform into a lethal weapon aimed at the intruder’s life. Matching the slow beat of his heart, Maxim expanded his senses.
The first step. No traps. Maxim descended the stairs slowly.
“Ugh…”
The sticky malevolent energy grew even stronger as he went down. Maxim reached the bottom and turned his head, scanning the space. It opened into a wide, empty area with several doors ahead and a descending path that split into two. But Maxim could not take another careless step forward.
It was coming.
He led Adeline to the entrance of the ascending stairs. She desperately clutched at his clothes as if afraid to let go, but Maxim firmly pried her hands away. Adeline reached out into empty air toward the departing presence, then curled into a ball.
“…Just wait a little longer.”
Unable to bear looking at her in that state, Maxim spoke and leveled his drawn sword. Sweat beaded on the hand gripping the hilt. He sensed no particular killing intent. The very air of this space was already thick with it.
Instead of killing intent, what reached him was the sound of something wet slapping against the floor.
Squelch. Squelch.
Crunch. Crack.
The sound of a heavy water skin striking the ground echoed from the stairs leading deeper underground. Along with it came the noise of something scraping against stone. Maxim could detect only one presence, yet there were two distinct sounds.
“What the… hell is that…”
He had wondered if something like the living armor from the final exam would appear, but what crawled up the stairs from below was a monster beyond description. Its appearance resembled a garment stitched together from rags. That might have been almost endearing, but instead of old clothes, the monster’s body was covered in the body parts of other magical beasts. A stench like rotting corpses wafted from it with every movement.
Its movements showed no sign of life. It had the torso and legs of a hexaped, the head of a hellhound, and what looked like the hind legs of a giant grasshopper attached to its pelvis. So that was where the stone-scraping sound had come from.
“I don’t know what they were trying to create, but…”
The hellhound’s eyes locked onto the intruder. Cold sweat ran down Maxim’s back as he kept that head fixed in the lethal line of his sword. He could not read its intent at all. Filthy drool dripped from its maw.
Boom—!
The monster’s hind legs exploded with force, launching the hellhound’s jaws straight at Maxim. Startled by the speed, he swung the flat of his blade and knocked it aside. Whether the creator had deemed vocal organs unnecessary or not, the monster made no sound of pain even after taking a direct hit.
Maxim retreated, circulating mana through his body. His heart pounded fiercely, accelerating the flow of mana. After leaping back to regain his stance, he pointed the tip of his sword at the monster. It charged again, using the propulsion of its hind legs. Maxim did not miss the timing. He swung his sword vertically with the intent to cleave it in two, but—
Clang—!
The sensation was like striking stone. The sword bounced away. His wrist trembled slightly from absorbing the full impact. It seemed the monster had not only been crudely stitched together but also reinforced with magic.
Maxim shook off the lingering shock in his right wrist.
“Did they make its skull out of rock?”
A hollow laugh escaped him. He had simply swung with full force, yet the blade left no wound. It was absurd. Its mouth, gaping open and smeared with sticky drool, looked exactly like that of a corpse. Even if he killed it, he would never shove his sword into that maw.
The monster’s hind legs tensed with power once more. Before it could leap, Maxim exploded his mana flow and charged straight ahead. The battle’s previously steady rhythm and tempo were abruptly shattered. His sword tip drove into the monster’s neck without losing momentum.
Bang!
Comically, the monster flew through the air in the middle of its leap. The sight of its exposed underbelly as it hung suspended was far more grotesque than he had expected. Time seemed to slow as Maxim observed the airborne monster. He drew the thrust-out sword back toward his body, lowering the center of the blade. The circulating mana halted, then condensed into a single point like the calm before a whirlwind. The next sword path was ready.
Maxim recalled his master’s teachings once more.
The swordsmanship of the elves is a vast flow.
His lips moved silently. The blade caught the faint light and gleamed. By the time Maxim finished the strike and sheathed his sword, the monster had been sliced into dozens of pieces in midair, scattering a strange black fluid that was neither blood nor anything recognizable.
“Pretty crude for something made to guard its creator’s laboratory.”
Maxim turned to look at Adeline. Fortunately, she remained exactly where he had left her, still sitting in the same spot.
“Adeline.”
He approached, calling her name. He had sensed it before, but no matter how sensitive her senses were, he had never seen a knight fall into such convulsions of terror. Maxim decided that even if it took time, he needed to understand her condition clearly.
Adeline had both hands clasped over her face, burying it between them. Maxim forced her into an upright sitting position and examined her. She looked like a soldier curled up in pain from memories of the past. Had she experienced black magic before? Maxim’s brow furrowed. The situation resembled his own past far too closely.
Come to think of it, when I first felt this energy, I felt pain in my chest as well.
The pain that had since vanished. A horrific agony that felt as though it were slowly carving away at the soul. Recalling that dizzying pain, Maxim continued observing Adeline. Even he had briefly mistaken the sensation for a return of that old torment. If someone as sensitive as Adeline had fallen into such a state, it was only natural she would be suffering like this.
…But why would the Count’s confidant have fought against black mages?
Had they clashed before the Count allied with the Magic Tower? But if so, there would have been no reason for Adeline to encounter black mages who never revealed themselves to the world. How, and for what reason, had she become entangled with black magic?
“My eyes…”
At that moment, Adeline’s faint voice reached him. Maxim lowered himself to listen.
“Adeline? Can you hear me?”
“Eyes… my eyes… aaah…”
Maxim reached toward the face she was desperately covering. Adeline fought with all her strength to keep her eyes hidden, but he finally seized her hands and lifted them away.
“I’m sorry. I need to check your eyes, so bear with me for a moment.”
Feeling as though he were committing a grave sin, Maxim apologized softly. His hand touched the cloth covering her eyes. Slowly, he found the knot and began to untie it. The loosened black cloth slipped off with a soft rustle and fell to the floor.
Maxim lifted her hair and looked into her eyes—then froze completely.
Adeline’s eyes were open. Within them lay the vacant pupils of a blind person. Yet that was not why Maxim was horrified.
“Curse…”
In the center of her pupils was etched the same crack-like brand of curse that had once radiated sinister black energy from his own chest. As if boasting, the curse writhed within her eyes, wriggling with wicked power.
Maxim’s mouth twisted. The hands holding both of hers began to tremble violently. Why, of all times, had he come to realize this now?
The Count…
Because the Count commanded it.
You must watch your words.
A puppet who had lost her free will and obeyed only the Count’s orders. The Count must have tried to turn him into the same.
Maxim’s voice shook.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
Even then, Adeline continued to writhe in agony. Maxim released her hands in despair. He picked up the black cloth that had fallen to the floor.
“It hurts…”
Maxim approached her carefully. From behind came the sound of something wet climbing the stairs.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
The disgusting footsteps of monsters filled his ears, accompanied by the stench of corpses that stung his nose. Ignoring it all, Maxim wrapped the cloth around Adeline’s eyes. Her trembling gradually subsided. As gently as he could, he tied the knot behind her hair and cupped her cheeks.
“Adeline.”
He breathed slowly, hoping his own calm rhythm would reach her. Her shaking seemed to ease, if only slightly.
“…I’m sorry. Just wait a little longer.”
He retrieved his sword. An overwhelmingly intense killing intent radiated from Maxim. One step. As he advanced, even the mindless monsters instinctively sensed something was wrong and retreated. Maxim lowered his blade and let out a sigh.
He was sick of it. Sick of the Count’s evil deeds being revealed, sick of his own helplessness in the face of them, sick of more victims appearing because of those deeds.
“You lot.”
Maxim’s voice was chillingly cold. The space itself creaked, overtaken by his killing intent.
“You’re unlucky.”
Like the wind, Maxim’s blade flashed.