Black Mage
In the West Continent where I lived, the North Continent of snow and ice, and even among the people of the East Continent—there was one word that everyone treated as taboo.
‘Black magic... Why the hell would a black mage be on the East Continent?’
That word was black magic.
By my modern standards as an Earthling, even the magic tower mages—who were amputation experts—looked plenty vicious. But black mages were said to be so brutal that those guys seemed cute by comparison. Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella, who despised the magic tower mages, were equally awestruck by black magic.
The reason was simple: the medium for black magic was human blood.
"No matter how insular our Hoblood Clan may be, we still have some exchange with the mages. The East Continent has its share of dungeons and magic towers, after all. But black magic... that operates on an entirely different plane."
"……."
As I pondered black mages, lost in thought, Minsia continued her explanation, her brow furrowed fiercely.
"Blood soaking the sand surged up like living snakes and lunged at me. Lifeless corpses rose and charged. No matter how many times I killed them, they kept coming back—like jiangshi straight out of a nightmare."
It had been three years since I'd come to this isekai world, by the calendar. I'd seen potions, mana, magic, and all sorts of wonders, but even I had trouble taking Minsia's words at face value. They sounded too outlandish.
Yet I couldn't dismiss them lightly. Her expression was so resolute. And if by some chance Minsia was suffering from a mental illness, every word she uttered was precious diagnostic data. So I listened intently, slipping in gentle questions between her words.
"Undying monsters... Just imagining it is horrifying. I'm glad you escaped unharmed. Any injuries—"
"Hah hah hah! Escape? You think I'd run? A Hoblood Clan warrior never shows their back. A hundred times, a thousand times they resurrect—no matter. They're less than wind passing by or pebbles underfoot."
"……."
I'd hoped to gauge the truth of her fantastical tale from any battle scars on her body, but there was nothing to go on.
"Fascinating. If those monsters kept resurrecting endlessly, how did you, Matriarch Emeritus, manage to survive?"
"What has no form cannot exist. Swing a ki-wrapped blade, and it vanishes without a trace of dust. Even that young pup over there could manage it. The methods differ, but ki or aura—both are energies drawn from nature."
"Want a demonstration? I can grind your neck to powder without leaving a handful behind."
"Hah, cheeky brat. But a man should be that bold! Though the ignorant meet early ends."
"Walter."
"……."
I lightly touched his arm, which bristled with open hostility, and he caught my intent, bowing his head. Despite the sharp barbs flying between them, Minsia's micro-expressions—read through her subtle tells—showed only fondness. Small mercies.
"In any case, those soulless corpses posed no threat to me. But then I saw others atop their ship. Soso... the ones holding my granddaughter."
Minsia's satisfied smile twisted into a demonic scowl, as if reliving the memory.
* * *
Minsia, Matriarch Emeritus of the Hoblood Clan. One of the Ten Swords of the Continent, renowned as the strongest across the realms.
"You bastards... do you truly court death?! Release Soso this instant!"
No one dared touch the Hoblood Clan—isolated where it met the Black Sea, with poor ties to other regions or continents—because of Minsia alone.
"East Continent warriors are a marvel the more I see them. No amplification spell, yet your voice carries clearly from this distance."
But even a Continent Ten Sword like Minsia couldn't solve everything with brute force. Especially not when her own granddaughter was kidnapped.
"I'll remember every one of your faces. If a single finger touches Soso—!!"
Pshuk! Puk! Puuk!
"You filth!"
Before Minsia could finish, the mages on the ship drew daggers and plunged them into Min Soso's shoulders and abdomen.
As shock made Minsia's body tremble, the lead black mage—a man with a corpse-pale face—spoke up.
"Minsia, Matriarch Emeritus of the Hoblood Clan. Best to obey quietly if you want your granddaughter's life spared. I hate long talks."
"Ho-how dare you!"
"Keep your voice down."
Puuk! Puk! Puuk! Puk! Puk!
"S-stop! I said stop!"
Puk! Pshuk! Puk! Puk! Puuk!
"I told you to keep your voice down."
"I-I'm sorry! Please... please stop......"
The black mages were merciless. Especially the pale-faced one conversing with Minsia—he stabbed Min Soso's body without a shred of hesitation, like a man devoid of emotion. The other black mages cast healing spells from behind, closing her wounds swiftly.
But watching her unconscious granddaughter drenched in blood felt like chunks of his own flesh being carved away.
Thud—
"It's... all my fault...... So leave our Soso be."
Minsia of the Continent Ten Swords. The unbreakable man who'd never shown his back knelt on the sand below the ship's line of sight—not as a clan matriarch, but as a grandfather.
"Hmph, no need to wear yourself out. It'll scar a bit, but don't worry—we just want to take her, not kill her."
"Why... why target the Hoblood Clan? My granddaughter's done nothing......"
Slice—
"Soso!"
Pshut! Puk! Puk! Puuk! Puk!
"Ah... aaa......"
The moment Minsia spoke, Min Soso's right arm was severed. As he bellowed her name, blades tore mercilessly into her body. He swallowed the blood trickling from his bitten lip and fell silent.
Every word from him wounded her.
"I'll ask the questions. Save your strength. Got it?"
"……."
Minsia, Matriarch Emeritus, clamped his blood-dripping lips shut and nodded on the sand, knees grinding in.
The pale mage signaled his underlings for healing magic. As the dagger wounds and severed arm began to knit, Minsia finally exhaled.
"No long speeches. We only need your granddaughter, Min Soso. Got an experiment in mind."
Pshut! Puk! Puuk! Puk!
"Ease up those eyes. It's unpleasant."
"Kgh......"
Seeing the blade dig into his already blood-soaked granddaughter's nape, Minsia squeezed his eyes shut. Every move he made could harm her.
The pale-faced black mage stared at him impassively, wiping the bloodied dagger on pristine white cloth.
"No need to fear the 'experiment.' Not the usual patchwork we do— we're interested in the East Continent warriors' prized danjeon, more precious than life itself."
Minsia wanted to offer himself instead. But his words might irk the black mage, so he swallowed blood and stayed mute.
"It's true. Just five years of research, then we'll return her. No harm intended—we simply needed someone young with deep inner power. She was perfect. Bad luck, that's all."
"……."
The black mage droned on, expressionless as a salesman pitching specs.
"Oh, and don't offer yourself in her place. We have a suitable substitute already. Know the Patriarch Emeritus of the Wind Heaven Baek Clan?"
Minsia's kneeling form swayed on the sand at the arid words. Baek Il-hak, famed for his lightning-fast sword—another Continent Ten Sword, a friend vanished years ago. He never imagined hearing that name from a black mage's lips.
Il-hak... you too......
Minsia couldn't fathom the black mages' origins. But if they'd captured someone of Baek Il-hak's caliber, they were no ordinary foes.
"You won't find us anyway, but stay away if you could. Keep healthy to see her return, yeah? See you in five years."
"N-no... no!"
He feared speaking lest she be hurt. But as the massive ship's anchor rose with the black mage's words, Minsia couldn't just watch.
"If you want a dead granddaughter instead of a live one, slaughter us now."
Shrrrk—
As Minsia rose, poised to leap aboard, the black mage dragged the shallowly embedded dagger from Min Soso's nape to her collarbone like a butcher flaying meat.
"Let us go. Kill us, and plenty more mages to replace—we lose nothing but your granddaughter."
Blood seeped from the gash. Healing magic from the others sealed it instantly, but the sight froze Minsia solid.
He'd never dreamed black mages, masters of grotesque experiments and forbidden arts, could be this cruel by nature.
"You bastards... I'll find you! Rescue Soso and make you suffer the worst agonies imaginable! Wait! Wherever you hide, I—Minsia, Matriarch Emeritus of the Hoblood Clan—will come for you!"
The old man's rage at seventy roared toward the departing ship across the Black Sea, and his blood-drenched granddaughter.
Two black mages leaped from the deck, arrows aimed at Minsia.
"You dogs! I'll vent on you at least...?"
Boom! Boomboom!
Before his sword could cleave them, their bodies erupted in blood fountains.
Whoooong— Whoooong—
Blood from the exploded corpses swirled in a circle around Minsia, forming a new ritual array.
"Aaaargh! What is this?! What the—mmph!"
Blood orbs swallowed him whole. From the receding prow, the pale-faced black mage murmured at the engulfed Minsia.
"Isn't rejuvenation what East Continent folk dream of? Miss your granddaughter? Look in a mirror, old timer."