The Breaking Dawn
Monsters poured forth in endless waves.
At the absurd spectacle, I let out a dry scoff. "No, seriously, why the fuck does this bullshit always happen wherever I go...?"
This was the City of Bertinus in the Kingdom of Peon. Currently, it was a city under siege. I took a moment to reflect on my predicament. I had arrived in town, unpacked my bags, relaxed at an inn, and gone to sleep for one night—only to wake up to a city swarming with orcs and goblins? Just... what the hell?
Fine. I didn't understand a single damn thing. With a clean conscience, I gave up trying to make sense of it.
"Mages! Are there any mages?!"
"We need a priest!"
I lightly bit my lip. Right, this was my lot in life. Still, as the opening act of my second life—after having wrapped up my journey as the Hero—it wasn't the worst start.
I glanced down at my hands. A sword or a bow would have been nice, or even a plain wooden club, but unfortunately, I was empty-handed.
"Fuck."
The monsters began closing in one by one. Shaping Holy Power into a massive warhammer, I smashed their heads to pieces.
Orcs, goblins... they really brought the whole circus. Muttering under my breath, I snapped my fingers. Flames blossomed into existence. Shaping the fire into arrows, I unleashed them. Quite a lot of them, in fact. The flames burrowed into the monsters' flesh, charring them crisp from the inside out.
"A—a mage!" the people cried out.
I strode over to men who appeared to be soldiers.
"Everything was fine yesterday. What the hell happened?"
"W-Well... we don't know either! Out of nowhere, hordes of humanoid monsters—led primarily by goblins and orcs—started running rampant!"
Tch. Heavy casualties without even knowing the cause. Annoying.
For now, I stepped in to treat the wounded.
"H-Holy Power? I thought you were a mage... Are you a priest?"
"I can use both Holy Power and mana."
Gasps of astonishment rose all around us. Ordinarily, people wielded either mana or Holy Power—almost never both. Naturally, I kept the fact that I could also wield dark mana to myself. There was no need to stir up unnecessary trouble.
"I-In that case, please help us! If you could just treat the wounded with your Holy Power, you wouldn't even need to use magic... Please, the people are in grave danger."
"Of course. I plan to move freely around the area and protect people as I go. Is that all right?"
"Y-Yes, absolutely! By all means!"
Leaving the soldiers behind, I scanned my surroundings until I spotted someone in desperate need of aid. Across the plaza, an elderly man had been seized by an ogre, his face pale with utter despair.
Ha, fuck. It's been a while, you bastard.
How many times had I died helplessly beneath that monstrous bulk? How many times had my skull been crushed between those filthy fangs and chewed to bits?
Gripping my head at the unbidden surge of old memories, I gathered my mana. A massive greataxe forged of pure mana cleaved the ogre clean in half.
Mmh, nice and clean. The ghosts of past deaths didn't faze me much anymore.
The old man dropped to his knees before me, trembling. "T-Thank you. I thought I was a dead man for sure..."
"Don't mention it. More importantly, are you hurt anywhere?"
"M-My legs gave out... I can't seem to stand."
I used a spell to float the old man back toward the soldiers, then returned to the prowl.
A considerable amount of time passed. Yet despite the mountains of monster corpses piling up in my wake, their numbers showed no sign of thinning.
Damn it, this is bad. My mana and Holy Power are running on fumes.
Considering that wielding both mana and Holy Power effectively doubled my total energy pool, it was a frustrating outcome. It only proved just how long this battle had dragged on.
"Um, Sir Mage, if your mana is exhausted, perhaps you should rest for a moment? Our own mages have already pulled back to recover."
The situation in Bertinus City must have been grim indeed. The local mages were already out cold and snoring, and the soldiers, realizing what an asset I was, were clearly leaning on me. But I couldn't just sit and rest. Who knew how many people would die while I took a breather?
I reached out and snatched the sword from the soldier's scabbard.
"W-What are you doing?!"
The disarmed soldier stared at me with wide, bewildered eyes.
Without bothering to answer, I charged into the thick of the monsters, carving shallow cuts into their flesh. I could have cut them down in single blows, of course, but dispatching every last beast individually would take far too long. Instead, I channeled dark mana through the blade.
The dark mana corroded them from within, and within minutes, they began collapsing one after another. I reanimated the fallen monsters into undead with necromancy. I would have preferred to keep dark magic in reserve, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
The undead orcs and goblins tore savagely into their unsuspecting kin as they drew near, and my legion of the dead steadily swelled.
"What's happening?! They're turning on each other!"
My thralls made it look as though civil war had erupted among the monsters, and those worn out from fighting the undead were swiftly put down by the city's guards. Before long, a massive army of the undead had risen, ripping apart every living monster in sight while I continuously turned the fresh corpses into reinforcements.
When the only monsters remaining in the city were my undead, I steered them together, boxing them into a tight encirclement. Soon, the horde was packed tightly in a single square, completely surrounded.
"Hah... hah... We've finally trapped them, Sir Mage!" one of the soldiers panted beside me.
I gave a brisk nod. "Fall back. I'll wipe them all out in one go."
...It felt a little odd to incinerate minions I had just raised. Then again, my master had always said that undead were meant to be used and thrown away.
Squeezing out the very last dregs of my mana, I hurled a fireball at the tightly packed mass of expendable flesh. The cluster of rotten bodies ignited in an instant, burning away until not a trace remained.
Good work, boys. Be born as humans in your next life.
Presently, a burly man wearing ornate plate armor and sporting a thick, bushy reddish-brown beard strode toward me.
"Greetings. I am Berterlan Calidus, Lord of this city. I hear you are the mage who rendered such extraordinary aid in subjugating the monster horde—am I correct?"
"Ah, yes."
"On behalf of the entire city, you have my deepest gratitude. Ever since Grandis triumphed over the Imperial Army, monster rampages have grown far more frequent, but we have never faced an assault of this scale."
As the very man who had suffered that defeat at Grandis's hands, I felt a guilty twitch, but I managed to keep my composure and nod.
"I would like nothing more than to bestow a grand reward upon the savior of our city... yet regrettably, there is very little I can offer you right now," the Lord continued.
Not that I had done it expecting a payout anyway.
"Ah! It so happens that our city boasts several renowned master blacksmiths. How about I commission them to craft whatever equipment you desire?"
I nodded. In my line of work, walking away with nothing was all too common, so an offer like this was more than generous. And so, I requested a suit of armor and a single sword.
A few days later, a soldier came calling at the inn where I was staying.
"Sir Mage, the Lord instructed me to escort you to the forge."
"All right, let's head over."
Are the armor and sword ready already? I wondered, trailing after the soldier. They didn't just throw together some shoddy rush job, did they?
The forge resonated with the clanging of iron on anvils and the scorching breath of blast furnaces. The moment we stepped inside, a blast of intense heat washed over me, leaving an odd taste in my mouth.
...It dredged up the vivid memory of taking a dragon's breath square to the chest and being roasted alive inside my own plate armor like a steamed dumpling.
Shaking the unpleasant memory from my head, I called out, "Excuse me, where do I go to collect my armor and sword?"
Silence. From listening to hammered iron all day long, smiths often had terrible hearing—and after staring into blinding flames for decades, their eyesight usually wasn't much better. I filled my lungs and shouted at the top of my voice.
"Where do I go to collect my armor and sword?!"
Every blacksmith turned to look at me. A man with a terrifying scowl and hands the size of pot lids stomped over and—thwack—slapped me on the back.
"You're that mage who helped save our city, ain'tcha? Follow me!"
With that hearty bellow, he took the lead, and I followed in his wake. He stopped before an old man with bulging sinew, a stubborn jaw, and a prominent hooked nose.
"You the owner? Take 'em."
With a curt nod from the elder, the guide slipped away, leaving me to gaze at the items laid out before the old master. A full suit of plate armor, a matching helmet, and a longsword. It was the exact set I had requested, and the craftsmanship appeared utterly flawless. Except... every single piece was pitch-black.
"Forged from Black Iron," the old man grunted. "Light as a feather, but tough as dragon scale. Armor and blade made from that stuff'll take a beating like nothing else. I guarantee it."
Black Iron? That was an extraordinarily rare and precious mineral.
I drew the blade and channeled mana through it. Neither resisting nor leaking an ounce of energy, the steel cleanly blossomed with my Sword Qi.
Hmm, very nice. With gear like this, I shouldn't have to worry about dying so easily.
"You're in luck," the old man continued. "When the Lord came asking, I happened to be right in the middle of hammering out my life's masterpiece using that Black Iron. Decided to just hand it over to you to fulfill his commission. You won't find craftsmanship like this anywhere else."
Then, catching sight of the razor-thin Sword Qi coating my blade, the old man blinked.
"Well now... If it's in the hands of a swordsman of this caliber, my magnum opus won't go to waste. You sound young, but you've got some serious talent. Though, I suppose even that wouldn't hold a candle to the Empire's Red Duchess."
The old smith chuckled gruffly. "Bah, what am I saying? People say that woman might very well be the strongest in the entire world, so comparing anyone to her is hardly fair. My mistake. You said you were a mage, right? Pretty damn good with a sword for a spellcaster."
...It seemed Sayne was recognized as the strongest even outside the Empire. Well, it wasn't surprising. Sayne had always been a bona fide genius.
"Anyway, that's that. Run along now."
With an inexplicable, wistful melancholy suddenly weighing on my chest, I stepped back out into the open air.