Chapter 28
Chapter 28
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Exposure (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Grand Duchess Chelsea!”
The moment Demian Haksen stepped out, Rebecca came running and supported Chelsea Goldpixie.
“R-Rebecca… Did you see? What that, that bastard did to me?”
“Yes, I saw. He was a truly awful man.”
“I-I’ll kill him for sure. Make him regret what he did to me…”
Chelsea muttered softly, her body trembling. Suddenly, rage filled her eyes.
“Mustang Fury!”
Chelsea Goldpixie shot to her feet and shouted. A man came rushing in from the connecting door to the next room.
“Y-Yes! Mustang Fury, reporting to your call!”
He was middle-aged, with a massively protruding belly.
“What the hell is this? Why didn’t the Enchanting Scent work?”
“I-I don’t know either. S-Sometimes people have strong resistance to black magic. I’m guessing it’s something like that…”
“You useless idiot!”
Chelsea grabbed a teacup from the table and hurled it. The cup struck Mustang Fury squarely on the forehead.
“That bastard… I can’t let him live. I’ll kill him for sure. Make him regret spouting that crap at me today!”
Chelsea Goldpixie’s eyes gleamed with venom.
“Where’s Guillaume Blackwing? Where is he?”
“G-Guillaume’s at the tavern right now. Said he needed to blow off steam after what happened today…”
“Drinking at a tavern the day before the duel?”
Chelsea Goldpixie’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.
Mustang Fury broke out in cold sweat, constantly glancing at her.
“Bring him here right now! I won’t let him get away with this!”
“G-Grand Duchess, please calm down! I-I’ll talk to him!”
At those words, Chelsea forcibly suppressed her anger.
“…You’re really sure Guillaume Blackwing can beat Demian Haksen?”
“O-Of course! Who is Guillaume Blackwing? He’s Yulan’s masterpiece! I’ve never seen a knight with better aptitude for black magic than him.”
“And that guy got humiliated by Demian Haksen earlier today?”
“That was an unexpected situation… With a weapon, the outcome will be completely different.”
Mustang Fury spoke with confidence.
“Grand Duchess, just hold on a little longer! Yulan will put the ducal house right in your hands!”
At Mustang Fury’s bold declaration, Chelsea replied with a venomous expression.
“You’d better keep that promise. Or you’ll be the first ones I kill.”
Mustang Fury’s face turned pale.
* * *
‘As expected, a black mage was hiding there.’
On the restaurant roof.
Demian Haksen crouched low, eavesdropping on Chelsea and the black mages’ conversation.
After leaving the restaurant, Demian had leaped straight onto the roof.
He amplified his hearing with mana and focused on the interior.
‘It’s not just a simple partnership. Chelsea Goldpixie is treating the black mages like slaves.’
That’s what it sounded like from the conversation. But something felt off to Demian.
‘Scum like black mages wouldn’t submit that easily.’
The black mages Demian knew were venomous snakes with poison instead of blood. They wouldn’t bend so readily.
Above all, the group they belonged to was the issue.
‘Mustang Fury, was it? He clearly said Yulan.’
Yulan.
The group the black mage who had cursed the Haksen territory on Black Snake’s orders belonged to.
Yulan was a black mage organization so dangerous that the Church pursued it relentlessly.
For its members to submit to a novice like Chelsea Goldpixie?
‘What are they really after?’
Suddenly, a conversation flashed in Demian’s mind.
-Do you know what black mages desire most? A place to settle down.
It was something Archlich Dorgo had said to him in his previous life.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t much of a conversation. Demian hadn’t been in a state to speak then.
Dorgo had thought Demian had completely lost his mind.
In other words, it was just Dorgo monologuing.
-Black mages’ lives can be summed up as wandering. Hiding from people’s eyes, fleeing the Church’s pursuit. Over time, they all desperately crave a place to settle.
That’s why black mages clawed their way into society.
To secure a safe haven.
‘I see Yulan’s scheme now. They’re using Chelsea Goldpixie to seize control of the ducal house.’
Few black mages who caught the Church’s attention survived.
That’s why Yulan wanted a powerful shield to protect them.
Chelsea Goldpixie was their chosen proxy. They planned to take the ducal house through her.
‘These vermin are overstepping their bounds.’
Yulan’s scheme reminded him of how Dorgo had enslaved him in his previous life.
‘I’ll crush that plan completely.’
Demian’s eyes gleamed coldly.
* * *
Demian returned to his guest room.
Once there, he first infused the black mana he’d stored in his body into the bracelet.
‘The more I look at it, the more useful it is.’
This bracelet, obtained by killing Yulan’s executive Agito, could store and conceal any kind of energy.
Thanks to it, Demian could hide the absorbed black mana perfectly.
‘If I could, I’d discard all black magic.’
Demian loathed black mages and black magic. He wanted to erase them from the world.
Yet he gathered black mana for contingencies.
‘Life is unpredictable.’
Demian’s life as a successful mercenary had been ruined by meeting the demon Dorgo.
He stored black mana to guard against such unforeseen events.
After storing all the black mana in the bracelet, Demian drew the Thousand-Mile Sword.
‘Better to show the duke directly than bother going to him with explanations.’
Demian’s plan was simple.
He would shatter the black magic embedded in Guillaume Blackwing’s body.
When the black magic broke, the black mana would burst out, exposing its presence to all.
‘And the Sword Music House realm is perfect for that.’
Demian lightly flicked the blade of the Thousand-Mile Sword with his finger.
Wuuung.
Just a slight tap made the sword vibrate fiercely.
Demian infused mana into the Thousand-Mile Sword, then flicked the blade again.
Wuuuung.
The vibration intensified. At the same time, a nearby window shattered.
‘Not easy, huh.’
Demian frowned in dissatisfaction.
He’d aimed to break a chair, not the window.
But he hadn’t controlled the pitch properly, and the window broke instead.
‘How did the Sword Music House control this?’
The Sword Music House had talent not just for swords, but for sound.
They were born with perfect pitch, absolute sound sense.
Demian lacked that.
He understood the technique and realm intellectually, but couldn’t wield it skillfully yet.
‘To use it in tomorrow’s duel, I’ll need practice.’
Demian spent the night ringing sword tones.
* * *
The next day, the day of the duel, arrived.
The duke’s retainers gathered in the training grounds on time, to watch the duel.
Among them were many ducal knights, including those participating in the upcoming marquisate duel.
“Who do you think will win, Brother Pavel?”
One candidate knight asked a stocky knight.
The small knight, Pavel, scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“Based on reputation alone, Guillaume Blackwing.”
Though a knight from a distant land, Guillaume Blackwing’s fame had reached even here.
“S-So, we’ll finally be free of that demon Demian Haksen?”
The candidate knight shuddered as he asked.
Over the past few days, the duel knights had endured beatings from Demian Haksen under the guise of training.
Resistance only led to worse punishment. Fleeing brought pursuit.
What tormented the duel knights most was Demian Haksen’s bizarre striking technique.
No matter how hard he hit, no marks were left on their bodies.
They couldn’t even report it to superiors.
“If Sir Guillaume Blackwing wins, yes.”
With such a clash, the loser would leave the ducal house.
If Demian Haksen lost, the knights would escape their hellish days…
“But somehow, I don’t think that guy will lose…”
Pavel Vermond recalled Demian Haksen.
His bizarre swordsmanship, mind-piercing psychological tactics, and ruthless hands.
Just imagining him made his legs weak. A terrifying man.
“Come on, even so, Guillaume Blackwing has to win.”
As the fellow knight laughed, a man leaped into the training grounds with a shout.
“Haaap!”
A massive, muscular brute. Especially his long, thick arms—like logs.
“That’s Guillaume Blackwing…”
Pavel Vermond stared in wonder.
He could tell at a glance. Same realm or not, Guillaume Blackwing was far stronger.
“Demian Haksen! Get up here! Today, I’ll smash you!”
Guillaume Blackwing bellowed from the training grounds.
His gladiator-like behavior, not knightly, made Pavel Vermond grimace.
Skilled, but utterly lacking in refinement or dignity.
“Brother, that’s him.”
Then, a knight shook Pavel Vermond’s arm, pointing somewhere.
Demian Haksen had just appeared in the training grounds.
“You didn’t run away, huh!”
Guillaume Blackwing spotted him and grinned savagely.
Demian Haksen, meanwhile, yawned lazily.
“Ugh, didn’t sleep last night. My shoulders are stiff.”
Demian massaged one shoulder and cracked his neck side to side.
No trace of fighting spirit or tension. Guillaume Blackwing ground his teeth at the attitude.
“You’re begging to die.”
A savage aura began emanating from Guillaume Blackwing. Pavel Vermond swallowed dryly at the fierce energy.
Guillaume Blackwing was even stronger than he’d thought.
Guillaume Blackwing glared at Demian Haksen, as if about to charge.
But the fight didn’t start.
“Looks like I’m late.”
The duke had entered the training grounds.
“Sir Demian, did you sleep well last night?”
“Practicing something kept me up all night.”
“Oh dear. Whatever it was, don’t skip sleep. Sleep is the best medicine.”
The duke greeted Demian warmly, then approached Guillaume Blackwing.
“Guillaume Blackwing.”
“…Yes, Your Grace.”
Guillaume Blackwing glanced sidelong at Gaol Heinrich beside the duke before replying.
“I expect you to accept defeat gracefully.”
His tone implied the outcome was already decided. Guillaume Blackwing’s face darkened.
“…Yes, I will.”
But with Gaol Heinrich there, he couldn’t explode.
“Well then, no need to drag it out. Let the duel begin.”
The duke’s declaration fell.
* * *
The duel began, and Guillaume Blackwing charged across the training grounds.
He gripped a hand axe in each hand. Crimson aura coated the axes.
“Demian Hakseeeen!”
Unable to contain his rage, Guillaume Blackwing roared. Demian Haksen frowned at the noise.
‘Noisy bastard.’
Separate from his irritation, Demian reflexively analyzed Guillaume Blackwing.
‘Arm muscles equally developed. Ambidextrous, not one-handed.’
Even with dual weapons, techniques differ by dominant hand.
But Guillaume Blackwing was truly ambidextrous. No gaps in his skill.
‘Depth varies with each step. Can’t handle mana proficiently.’
Inconsistent mana use caused varying pressure on the ground, hence the depth differences.
‘This is enough analysis.’
Just a fake knight boosted by black magic. No value in deeper study.
“Not dodging? Gonna block head-on?”
Guillaume Blackwing closed in and raised his hand axes high.
“Plenty have died trying that!”
Power surged in Guillaume Blackwing’s forearms. The axes fell toward Demian.
Demian blocked with the Thousand-Mile Sword. On impact, the sword vibrated fiercely.
Wuuung.
The Thousand-Mile Sword released a wave. The ground shattered around Demian.
The wave blasted Guillaume Blackwing away. He spun in midair and landed.
“W-What was that…?”
Blackwing stared at Demian in bewilderment.
Others were shocked too.
“W-What was that just now?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“There was a sound, and suddenly Guillaume Blackwing flew back?”
No one had seen such a defense. They could only be stunned.
“…That’s…”
Only one, Gaol Heinrich, recognized the technique.
The duke turned to him.
“Sir Gaol, do you know what technique Demian Haksen used?”
“A few years ago, a knight hired by the ducal house used something similar.”
Gaol Heinrich looked at Demian Haksen in surprise.
“It was so unique, it stuck in my memory. I never imagined Demian Haksen could use it too.”
Gaol Heinrich recalled further, then said to the duke.
“If my memory’s right… you’re in for something even more interesting.”
* * *
“Using some weird trick and falling for it!”
Guillaume Blackwing kicked off again, charging at Demian.
Demian stroked the Thousand-Mile Sword’s blade with two fingers.
The blade began vibrating slowly. As the vibration grew, so did the sword tone.
At its peak, Demian flicked the blade with his finger.
Instantly, a shock hit Guillaume Blackwing’s abdomen.
“Gah!”
Guillaume Blackwing let out a guttural scream and froze. He looked at Demian in confusion again.
“Y-You bastard… keep doing weird shit…”
Wuuung.
Demian flicked the blade again.
This time, Guillaume Blackwing’s face crumpled, as if struck by an invisible club.
“Argh!”
Demian flicked again. Shock to the side.
“Graaah!”
Guillaume Blackwing swung his axes wildly. But they hit nothing.
“W-What is that? Is Sir Demian using magic?”
“But he’s a knight?”
The retainers panicked at the bizarre sight.
“You bastard! Cut it out!”
Guillaume Blackwing roared in fury, swinging his axes. Red aura shot toward Demian.
Wuuuung.
Then, the sword tone changed. Heavy before, now sharp.
The sharp tone rang out, and Guillaume Blackwing’s aura split in two, dispersing without focus.
“…What?”
Guillaume Blackwing froze at the impossible scene.
Seizing the moment, Demian rang the sword tone again.
Guillaume Blackwing urgently leaped back. The training ground floor sliced cleanly, like with a knife.
“Y-You mad bastard!”
Guillaume Blackwing charged in panic. Demian glanced at him.
‘Time to end the play.’
He’d toyed with Guillaume Blackwing to test the Sword Music House techniques.
Now, time to reveal the truth.
‘The Sword Music House’s terror isn’t large-scale combat. It’s attacking internals with sword tones.’
The realm the Sword Music House master reached was called ‘Resonance’.
Originally, Sword Music House could only inflict external wounds with tones.
But with ‘Resonance’, they could affect the opponent’s internals.
Enemies felt their insides churning with each tone.
‘It doesn’t work on masters.’
Masters had bodies tempered to extremes, with dense mana control.
Nearly impossible to inflict internal damage via resonance.
‘But it’s undeniably useful.’
Demian flicked the Thousand-Mile Sword. The tone rang softly.
He gripped the vibrating sword with both hands, raised it high, then slammed it down.
A massive sound shook the grounds, heads ringing.
The huge wave made Guillaume Blackwing’s body tremble finely. He froze solid.
“Y-You…”
Guillaume Blackwing’s face paled.
“U-Ugh…!”
Guillaume Blackwing vomited something.
Not blood. Far blacker, stickier liquid.
“W-Why is Sir Guillaume…?”
“Something’s wrong.”
The substance hit the ground and turned to gas, spreading everywhere.
Black mist filled the grounds. The retainers’ faces hardened.
“T-This is…”
Only one mana in the world was black.
“B-Black mana!”
The retainers screamed.