Even in the Mud, Flowers Bloom
Viriph had discovered Hamstline Gorge about fifteen years ago.
A run-of-the-mill mage wandering the battlefields, he one day succumbed to the mana of a monster he encountered and resolved to become a black mage.
Stumbling upon Hamstline Gorge during his mercenary days was a stroke of luck. Not only did he realize he wasn't just addicted to the mana—he had real talent for it.
He set up base at its heart and began his research. One by one, he corrupted monsters, raising them as undead to build his legion.
He couldn't freely leave the gorge for fear of drawing the empire's attention, but he endured, convinced that one day he would reveal his power to the world.
But.
What the hell is this?
"...Who... who are you?"
He asked, knees on the ground, forehead pressed to the dirt.
His voice trembled with tension and fear.
"Berge Dayas."
"Berge Dayas...?"
"That's what you humans call the Flame Demon King."
"...Demon King."
Why a Demon King of all things?
He'd fallen to the mana, sure, and wanted to become a black mage—but not a Demon King's slave.
That's why he'd come to Hamstline Gorge.
Ownerless mana. A place where he could become a black mage without bowing to any Demon King.
And it had worked. He'd made it this far.
So why now?
"You stupid little rat."
The Demon King sneered.
"Did you think you could covet a Demon King's mana and keep it hidden forever?"
"All mana moves at my command. It's not for the likes of you to touch."
The mana resonated with a deep hum.
Hot energy poured from the hand resting atop Viriph's head.
Mana surged into him. He screamed in agony, like red-hot iron searing his flesh.
The pain started in his head, snaking down his neck and spreading through his body. His heart throbbed. His bones and soul felt like they were being shaved away. He thrashed.
But the mana suppressed even that.
"Ahh..."
Viriph sighed. Amid the horrific torment, his instincts revealed what the Demon King's mana was doing.
The Mark of Submission.
A contract etched into the soul, binding servant to master. A brand.
His soul wailed, lamenting the future to come, yearning for freedom.
"You humans have a saying, don't you?"
The Demon King whispered.
"It gets easier if you just give up."
So accept it. Submit quietly.
His mind went blank. Viriph's vision faded to black.
Viriph walked across the plains.
Thousands, tens of thousands of undead followed in his wake.
Enemies appeared ahead.
War horns blared, banners fluttered.
Arrows rained down, knight orders charged.
Cavalry and infantry followed.
Viriph laughed mockingly and issued commands.
Death Legion Commanders, Death Knights, directed the troops.
Dullahans and skeletons surged forward.
Liches unleashed death magic; massive ogre skeletons tore through human formations.
Humans died in droves.
Corpses piled into mountains, blood formed seas.
The green plains turned red, the sky darkened.
Terrified humans fled.
The undead pursued relentlessly, delivering death.
Among the ant-like humans dying were mercenaries who'd once mocked him.
Trash he'd trampled as vermin abounded.
They begged forgiveness.
Pissing themselves, they kissed his feet.
Kuhahaha!
Viriph laughed maniacally.
I am the great black mage, Viriph Crotinus!
Everything was perfect.
All the persecution and humiliation washed away in an instant.
Then.
A black shadow roiled up.
The red sky turned black.
—Insolent fool.
His skin crawled at the cold voice. A chill ran down his spine.
—What punishment suits a worm who covets what's not his?
The black shadow bound his body.
Viriph resisted. Or tried to.
But he could do nothing.
—What are you doing?
A crushing force pinned him down.
—Kneel. Now.
Bam!
His knees slammed into the dirt against his will.
And then.
He could only watch blankly as the darkness swallowed everything, and the undead's teeth and claws turned not on the fleeing humans—but on him.
All he'd built over fifteen years.
Vanishing.
'No... no!'
No voice came out.
'No...!'
Still, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
No!
Bloody tears streamed down.
"N-no!"
He bolted upright. The black shadow was gone. The invisible pressure too.
"It worked."
Instead, the Demon King who'd humiliated him watched with gleaming black eyes.
"Quite the vivid dream."
"...De... Demon..."
"You forgot the honorific."
"...Demon King."
It wasn't his will.
The branded submission forced awe and reverence from his lips.
"...What did you do to me?"
"Just gave you what every black mage needs."
"Soul contract..."
"You used mana, so pay the price. Right?"
A casual reply, but Viriph had just lost something immense.
Freedom.
The one black mage unbound to any Demon King was gone.
But his rage couldn't surface against the Demon King. The mark blocked it.
Not expressing it didn't make the boiling emotions vanish. Injustice brought bloody tears.
"...It's not even yours, Demon King."
"All mana is mine. If I say it's mine, it is."
"That's ridiculous...! How did you even find me here?"
"I know everything."
"I wasn't bound to any Demon King. No formal contract—how could you mark me so easily?"
He spat his fury disguised as a question. What would've been simple with a contract had built up over fifteen careful years—now crumbling in a moment. Infuriating.
"Here's the thing."
The reason was simple.
Mana was ultimately the power of Ma-gye. And a Demon King was like a dragon in the middle realm.
Intimately familiar, wielding it instinctively. Seizing ownerless mana from a mere human's control? Child's play.
No matter how great the human.
No matter how skilled the black mage.
If the power's source was mana, they could never beat a Demon King.
"Nothing I can't do."
But Berge had no intention of spelling it out.
Not even that it was easy pickings because it was unclaimed.
"What's so special about a black mage serving a Demon King? Quit your hysterics over something so trivial."
"And you... a hero?"
Only then did Viriph realize the guest wasn't just the Demon King.
Right—thinking back, the guests were a "Demon King" and a "hero."
Utterly incompatible.
"Even this hero serves the Demon King. Got it?"
"...What?"
"Comprehension issues?"
"He's just panicking, isn't he? Hate to say it, but I'm no ordinary hero. Everyone swoons over Hillun Kargil."
"Forgot I made you 'special'?"
"Skip the small stuff."
"If slaying a Demon King is 'small,' then nothing in this world is impressive."
As the Demon King and hero bantered, Viriph's mind went blank again.
'A hero serving a Demon King?'
'A hero slaying a Demon King—with the Demon King's help?'
'Hillun Kargil?'
'The hero who killed two Demon Kings?'
'And he serves a Demon King?'
Is this real?
His worldview shattered. Cognitive dissonance hit hard.
Finally, after a long while, he sorted his thoughts.
"...So you're really Hillun Kargil?"
"That's right."
"The one who killed two Demon Kings..."
"Me."
Viriph had been holed up in the gorge for years, but not deaf to the outside world. He'd kidnapped incoming mercenaries and knights, extracted info, then turned them undead.
"And you serve the Flame Demon King?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make sense!"
"The world makes less sense than you think. Did you expect to wake up as a Demon King's servant overnight?"
"...Well."
"I never thought a hero like me would end up as a Demon King's subordinate. But here we are, irreversible. We're in the same boat."
"......"
Absurd, but irrefutable.
Viriph bowed his head and turned to Berge.
"Why take me as a servant?"
"Weird for a Demon King to need a black mage?"
"What do you plan to do with me?"
"Giving up quick? I'll just watch."
"...Watch?"
"Yeah. Watch."
Berge shrugged.
"You want to lead your undead legion, prove your power? Isn't that your desire?"
"...How did you—?"
"I know everything."
Humans who sold their souls to Demon Kings sought two things: revenge and power.
Viriph wanted both, but power more.
Before regression, that's why he'd risen— to prove his legion outmatched the empire.
He'd failed, got diced up by royals, but this guy was nuts too.
"You humans say 'if you can't beat 'em, enjoy 'em.' The mark's set; you're mine. In return, I'll set the perfect stage for you to shine. Deal?"
"...Really?"
"Royals will swarm the gorge like clouds to claim it—for the throne. Don't you want to slaughter them all? Perfect chance to show the world your legion's might."
"...That."
He did.
Humans want to use power once they have it. Viriph's urge was at its peak—fifteen years' worth.
"But if the empire gets serious..."
"Scared?"
"...Of course not."
He was. Excited to test his creation, but life mattered more.
"I swear on the first Mahwang and the Demon King's Canon: I'll keep you alive. Deal? Alive, you can try again—and one clash is plenty, right?"
"...Sounds like you want me to attack the empire, Demon King."
"And?"
"I'll do it."
Anything else, maybe not—but a vow on the first Mahwang and Canon? To demons, worth more than death.
"One more request?"
"Shoot."
"Since it's come to this, grant me power."
"Power?"
"All black mages and dark knights draw power from contracted demons. Pre-contract, maybe not—but now? No reason not to. With your power, I could crush the empire perfectly!"
His confused eyes filled with madness as they talked.
'Hmm...'
Berge tapped his fingers.
Granting power was easy—via the tower, costing magic points. Worth it for the perfect stage.
Problem: Black mages taking Demon King power inherit traits.
If Viriph spewed black flames, the empire would instantly think of Berge.
How would that play out?
"That's not for you to decide."
Badly. Obviously. A stupid risk.
One he absolutely shouldn't take.
"But..."
"I said no. As long as you're in the empire, no power from me."
Berge pulled three tainted elixirs from his subspace and tossed them over.
"Take these instead."
Semi-corrupted mana suited a human like Viriph better than pure mana.
"Th-thank you!"
"And this."
"A communication orb?"
"Yeah. Keep it close—answer when I call."
"Yes."
"I'll make the royals attack soon. Prepare well."
"Yes! I won't disgrace the elixirs you gave me!"
Hooked on the three Erjest Mountain elixirs, Viriph nodded vigorously.
"Oh, and you need proof to take back..."
"Proof?"
"Need bait to lure the royals. Yeah, that'll do."
Berge's gaze fixed on one spot.
The dullahan trembled under the Demon King's eyes.
"One question."
After staring at Berge carrying the dullahan's head for a while, Hillun spoke up.
"Don't."
"Crazy after recruiting him? Or do you cherry-pick the lunatics? Proving he's stronger than the empire? Total psycho, right?"
"I said don't."
"Too curious."
"No self-awareness you're one of them?"
"Even in the mud, flowers bloom."
"You're the flower?"
"If that's what it takes. Great hero who slew two Demon Kings, right?"
"No one's more obsessed with fame than you among them."
The Demon King and hero headed back to the empire's capital.
< 113. Even in the Mud, Flowers Bloom > End