Episode 643
Episode 643
"What Kind of Stupid Nonsense Is That?"
"Are you really a dark mage?!"
Lee Han and Yoner simultaneously berated him.
At this point, rolling on the ground would have been better.
If mental magic was misdirected, it could cause serious harm.
Right now, they were merely seeing illusions of the Skeleton Principal, but if they fell victim to stronger mental magic, they might even hallucinate receiving a sweater knitted by the Skeleton Principal as a gift.
"Rolling on the ground would be better!"
"Skin wounds are easier to heal!"
"Right. Even if we have to roll in the mud..."
"Or even if a bone or two breaks!"
"Even if our clothes get torn to shreds!"
"...Fine! I get it already!"
Gainando snapped while still sprawled on the floor.
At this rate, he feared his two friends would soon say, "Having your neck broken would be better."
'Even after casting Ogonin's Mist...'
While scolding Gainando, Lee Han was also desperately trying to analyze the situation.
Currently, Lee Han's party was protected by multiple spells, one of which was Ogonin's Mist—a spell that created an illusory fog around them to scatter the focus of long-range attacks from external enemies.
Yet, the Watchers ignored it and unleashed mental magic regardless.
It was clear that everything in this chamber, from the engraved reliefs to the various spells, had completely pinpointed the intruders' locations.
Sssssk!
Another spark flew in, setting a Watcher ablaze.
Unlike Lee Han, who had to restrain the intensity of his fire magic compulsively, Yoner splendidly shot a flaming arrow, knocking down another Watcher.
But the Watchers kept crawling out.
"Yoner, conserve your mana! These things don't seem to have a fixed number!"
"Got it!"
Yoner swiftly pulled out a potion burning crimson from his bag and hurled it.
A wall of scarlet flames surged up, blocking the enemies' advance. Meanwhile, Nilia nocked four arrows between her fingers and shot them one by one, taking down nearby foes.
Gainando desperately called out to Arsil.
"Lady Arsil! Lady Arsil! We're in trouble here!"
"Gainando! I told you not to stick your head out! O frost, rise as a shield!"
Lee Han cast another spell while scanning the surroundings.
'There!'
Among the reliefs carved into the tomb's walls, the largest and most ornate sculpture.
From it, an unbroken flow of mana continuously revived the Watchers.
"Strike forth, Perkuntra's—"
CRACK!
A charged bolt of lightning crashed into the wall, leaving a thick scorch mark.
Yet, astonishingly, the relief remained intact. It had perfectly dispersed and absorbed the incoming mana.
"Perkuntra, you useless—!"
"??"
Yoner was baffled when his friend suddenly blamed the spirit.
After finishing his tirade, Lee Han refocused.
How could they sever that flow now?
'The Mana Hammer requires close proximity. Even if we get close, if the defenses are strong, we can't break it quickly. Then...'
A method to disrupt the magical flow from a distance while protecting his friends.
It seemed impossible, but for a fleeting moment, an idea flashed through Lee Han's mind.
—You must already know about the concept of Counter magic, right?
Ever since his entanglement with the magic criminal, the Skeleton Principal had taught him a few techniques in preparation for facing enemies.
One of them was the concept of Counter—also known as Reverse Magic.
A method to efficiently dismantle or interfere with spells without relying solely on brute external force.
However, the Skeleton Principal had only intensively trained him in countering a few spells commonly used by magic criminals.
Reverse Magic was inherently difficult to master, making it impossible to teach comprehensively.
Though it sounded grandiose, in the end, it was simply a methodology requiring deep understanding and deconstruction of magic.
Even among those, Lee Han had shattered one or two with sheer force...
'Can I do it?'
Lee Han focused even more intently on the flow of mana circulating within the chamber.
Then, a faint melody reached his ears.
It was the melody from the Chorus of Darkness that had begun the moment they opened the door earlier.
"!"
Lee Han realized how the Watchers had located his friends and so easily cast Illusion Magic on them.
The intruders had already been under the spell's influence from the moment they heard that faint singing.
"■■■, ■■..."
"!"
Gainando panicked when his friend suddenly began singing in an incomprehensible ancient kingdom's language.
"Lee Han's gone mad!! This is bad!!"
"No, you idiot!"
Yoner kicked his foolish cousin.
Lee Han's eyes were perfectly clear—the same look he'd shown when targeting White Tiger Tower students back at Einrogard.
'Is it working?'
As Lee Han mimicked the song exactly, he observed the changes around him.
Once, twice, thrice...
Gradually, as Lee Han's singing began matching the tomb's chorus, the situation inside started shifting.
The Watchers stopped locating the students and began checking elsewhere.
Nilia felt the fear weighing on her heart gradually lessen. Gainando too began looking around more calmly.
'It's working!'
Luck was on Lee Han's side.
Had it been any other magic, casting Reverse Magic wouldn't have been this easy.
But the spell entrenched in this tomb was Music Magic—and Lee Han had once before blocked a song with his own singing.
Back then, it had been a siren's song.
When song clashes with song, their effects inevitably halve each other.
"■■■... ■■!"
Lee Han increasingly felt the tomb's song losing its influence while his own singing began dominating the space.
For a mage to dominate a space didn't mean purchasing the land with money. It meant firmly controlling the area with one's mana and will.
Just as the Skeleton Principal had made Einrogard his domain, a mage always holds absolute advantage within their territory.
'So this song was one that asserts dominion over a space.'
This also explained why the Watchers kept rising to precisely target intruders and cast Illusion Magic on them.
At some point, the tomb's song ceased entirely. Simultaneously, the Watchers abruptly lost power and vanished.
"...It's... over, right?"
Gainando spoke with desperate hope, his appearance utterly disheveled. Lee Han nodded.
"Yeah. Seems so."
"I'm never entering a tomb again!"
'How's that possible when you're studying Black Magic?'
Lee Han approached the relief where the tomb's song had originated. Though the largest and most ornate carving, it had now faded and fallen silent.
Creak.
"?"
Examining it, Lee Han was puzzled to see the musician-carved relief shaking as if about to break apart.
With a clunk, the carving shattered, and a tightly rolled parchment tumbled out from within.
'This is...?'
Though the script and style were unfamiliar, Lee Han recognized it as sheet music.
'Is this the score for that Chorus of Darkness earlier?'
"!"
Outside, Arsil—who'd been conversing with Hecatoncheires—jumped in shock upon belatedly seeing the tomb's chaotic state.
Gainando was covered in mud, his cloak in tatters—clearly something had happened.
The others were...
Well, the others were relatively fine, but anyway, Gainando was covered in mud with his cloak in tatters.
"Suddenly Watchers started popping out inside... You're alright, big brother? Though of course you'd be fine with the spirits protecting you—that Chorus of Darkness probably didn't affect you much either."
Arsil apologized to Lee Han and his friends with genuine remorse.
He'd thought the tomb would be uneventful—he never expected such an incident.
"It's fine, big brother. It couldn't be helped."
"I'm not fine..."
Gainando muttered while brushing off mud, but his friends pretended not to hear.
Arsil smiled faintly in relief at Lee Han's words, then praised his younger brother.
"...No. Brother, that's not it. Please don't say such ridiculous things."
Lee Han immediately turned stern-faced.
Seeing Lee Han react so strongly, Nilia grew curious and asked,
"What did he say?"
"He said he knew this tomb wouldn't be any trouble for someone like me after all."
Nilia also turned stern-faced and glared at Arsil, who slumped his shoulders dejectedly at his younger brother and friends' reactions.
Ratford skillfully calmed the old horse.
While some nobles traveled lavishly with four or even eight horses during journeys, from a professional like Ratford's perspective, that was practically shouting "Please rob me."
The best way to ensure a comfortable trip was to appear like unappetizing prey.
Ratford deliberately chose an old, small horse and wore shabby clothes. To anyone, he looked like an ordinary pilgrim or wanderer.
"May I ask something?"
"Go ahead."
"Is this the way to Fig Blossom Village?"
Ratford was cautious.
He didn't foolishly mention the Wardanaz family name. There was always the risk that the other person might think, 'Ah, someone connected to the Wardanaz family—must be rich,' and harbor ill intentions.
"That's right. Follow this imperial highway straight ahead, and once you see a pomegranate tree, you'll have almost reached Fig Blossom Village. What brings you there?"
"A distant relative sent me a letter asking me to come help with some work. I'm a craftsman from the Locksmith Guild."
"Whoever they are, they've got a fine relative! If you have time, stop by the red brick house near the Bridge of Ruin. I've been meaning to get a good lock."
"Haha. Thank you."
Ratford had perfectly concluded the conversation.
He had obtained information and even earned the villager's goodwill—a flawless traveler.
'Wait, did he say "Bridge of Ruin"?'
Ratford wondered if he had misheard and doubted his own ears.
Village bridges were usually named after famous local heroes (like the Gonadaltes Bridge), historical events (like the Bridge Celebrating His Benevolent Majesty's Ascension), or geographical features (like the Three Rivers Bridge)...
What kind of name was "Bridge of Ruin"?
'Did some catastrophic event happen in this village?'
Ratford skillfully arrived at the village and entered an inn.
After tossing an imperial copper to the stable boy and entrusting his horse, he sat in a corner of the inn.
'Hmm. A good village.'
The vitality he sensed everywhere made Ratford smile.
The atmosphere of an inn differed between poor and wealthy villages. A place this lively, with loud singing and chatter, symbolized prosperity.
"Bullshit! How dare you cheat me?!"
"Sir, you can't cause a scene here."
"Shut it! I swear on my beard—if you don't return my silver coins, I'll put a crossbow bolt through your chest!"
"?!"
A dwarven traveler was roaring while gripping the innkeeper by the collar.
"Hey, call the guards!"
"Where do you think you're going?! Anyone who steps outside is dead!"
The dwarf, his face flushed red, brandished his crossbow.
He had probably lost a game of Wizard Card against the villagers, betting imperial silver coins.
'Should I intervene?'
Ratford hesitated.
In a decent village like this, even if his identity as a wizard became known, it wouldn't be a big problem.
What trouble could possibly arise before reaching the Wardanaz estate?
"Sir, stop this!"
"You stop and shut your mouth!"
"I won't stand by either."
"What the hell are you gonna do?!"
The dwarven traveler, still gripping the innkeeper's collar tightly, shouted.
His skill suggested military experience—this was no ordinary brawl. The innkeeper coughed and yelled at a waiter.
"The hat! Bring the hat!"
"?"
Ratford was puzzled—what hat?
The waiter frantically brought a hat and placed it on the innkeeper's head.
The next moment, the innkeeper lifted the dwarf with one hand and slammed him down with a crash.
"You bastard! Who do you think you're messing with?!"
"...?!"
'Why the hell does a village innkeeper have a strength-enhancing artifact?!'
Ratford was utterly bewildered.