Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Noble Mage's Ordeal
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Dillon Falko.
Though born into nobility, he had never lived that kind of life.
The family's territory consisted solely of barren land atop a cliff. Even the main keep was more like a watchtower than a proper castle.
He had no vassals—not even an old servant to help with household chores. Even she had passed away the year Dillon turned five.
It was a situation where the family estate could be sold off at any moment. For Dillon, there was only one ray of hope.
Magic.
He had begun learning magic under his mother's tutelage and quickly realized he had considerable talent.
There were no better mages in the vicinity of his territory, and his emergence as a young prodigy drew much attention from outside mages as well.
With Cadrell's help, he had entered the Magic Tower.
The Magic Tower.
He still couldn't forget the expressions on his family's faces when the topic first came up.
At last, the family would shine. The ancestors' talents had been passed down to you, Dillon. You are the pillar of our house, and so on.
Dillon thought his future was bright. He had no doubt that his past hardships would all be rewarded.
But that illusion was shattered not long after.
“Ughhh…”
The back of his head throbbed. His vision shook, and his thoughts refused to settle.
‘What happened?’
His memories were fragmented. He had clearly discovered the chimera, subdued it with Damian and Agnes, and sealed it with restraints.
Then Damian had shouted something, and a sudden gust of wind had swept over Dillon.
"You're finally awake?"
“Gah!”
As his senses slowly returned, another blow struck his nose. Wondering if it was broken, he touched it gingerly and looked up to see three figures staring down at him.
“What a sorry sight.”
“Like a little rat, just a little rat.”
Their faces were completely covered by gas masks, their voices distorted. Thick robes hid their genders.
“W-Who are you?”
“Hey, you noble runt.”
The three ignored his question. They grabbed him by the collar and spat out whatever they wanted to say.
“Fooling around outside the tower, and now you wanna do it here too?”
“What are you talking ab—Guh! Urk!!”
A fist slammed into Dillon's stomach. Pain exploded, along with stomach acid.
“You bloodsucking noble scum who prey on commoners. You don't even grasp why this is happening to you, do you?”
If he were truly a corrupt noble, he wouldn't feel this wronged.
“It’s you lot. The ones targeting noble-born mages.”
Rubia de Clarent.
Boris von Edbalt.
Erwin von Edbalt.
They were among the Empire's most exalted by blood alone—figures who had recently made their mark in the Magic Tower.
Rubia, in particular, possessed talent on an entirely different level.
Even at her young age, rumors swirled openly of her becoming the next Tower Master or Archmage.
Envy and jealousy naturally followed such unparalleled genius. Especially from commoner mages.
It was a kind of fear.
The fear that the Magic Tower—a place that judged solely by magical prowess, not status—might be overtaken by the Empire's hierarchy.
To Dillon, it was needless worry. The Tower wasn't that fragile.
“If that bothers you, take it up with them directly. Don't exclude people just because they're noble-born… Guh!”
His right jaw ached. Blood filled his mouth, and his mind remained foggy. No chance to cast a spell.
“You think you have the right to say that? The guy who started simpering the moment he saw that bastard.”
“What, does being the Emperor's illegitimate get you some blessing at birth? An illegitimate's just an illegitimate.”
“Pretty face made him easy on the eyes, though.”
Damian Renekht.
He too was more than enough to inspire their envy and jealousy.
The son of the woman who had bewitched the Emperor.
He bore the Empire's most noble bloodline, yet received no blessings.
Praised as the Empire's greatest beauty, he had shown disastrous aptitude in both magic and aura.
Thus, Damian Renekht was little more than bar gossip.
Until a few months ago.
For some reason, his magical talent had suddenly bloomed.
With green flames bearing his unique color, he had proven himself amid various incidents.
He also boasted a physique as sturdy as any knight's, paired with exceptional swordsmanship.
Now, his existence sparked talk for entirely different reasons.
And with it came inevitable chatter.
It's because of his imperial blood. Half-mixed with lowly stock, but the Emperor's blood is superior enough to override it.
That grated on more than a few ears.
What’s with that blood nonsense? Does mixing in imperial lineage turn a bastard into something else?
“D-Don’t judge him like that. He’s not someone who can be explained away by mere bloodline.”
Dillon forced the words out, neck straining as he wallowed in the muck.
“Look at you, playing the noble. Doesn’t your loyalty to the imperial family ever waver?”
“What, did he promise you a position? Wow, we’ve got ourselves a loyal retainer here.”
“What’s the secret to getting in his good graces? Spill it for me.”
Thud thud thud! The trio sneered as they stomped on Dillon mercilessly.
Why was that? It had only been a day since meeting Damian.
Yet in their insults toward him, Dillon sensed something off.
It wasn’t just gratitude for stepping up for him. It felt different from mere favor.
Was it simple charisma? Looking back, his time talking with Damian had been the most enjoyable since arriving at the Tower.
‘Pointless now, though.’
Attacks on noble mages happened often, but they never crossed this line before.
They probably wouldn’t let Dillon live.
Mages or adventurers who met mishaps exploring sewers were commonplace.
His death would bring tears only from family—forgotten without even a newspaper footnote.
“Shall we go?”
“Just dump him here…”
KABOOM!! The ceiling above collapsed in a shockwave.
Debris and filth rained down, revealing a man’s figure.
“Ha…”
Dillon didn’t know what expression to make. He’d assumed he’d been abandoned.
“Still alive?”
Damian emerged from the dust. As the rag-like Dillon waved weakly, he flashed a light smile.
“How did you get here…?”
The kidnappers couldn’t hide their shock.
They had abducted Dillon with pre-set spatial transfer magic.
Simultaneously triggering other traps to erase traces with a gale.
Stumbling upon them by chance didn’t add up. The chimera site was far from here.
To arrive so quickly, they’d need to know the exact location.
“Because I figured you’d pull something like this.”
Damian pointed at the kidnappers.
“Kell, Max, Lena. Right? You’re capable, at least. All prepped in such short time.”
That aside, they weren’t the sharpest. Ignoring yesterday’s warning to pull this stunt.
Dillon had thought the chimera simply broke free and escaped, but Damian suspected these three.
‘Perfect targets to bully.’
Noble-born, tied to Damian somehow. Ideal for venting.
No hard proof, though. So he’d played along with their setup.
“But I prepared this instead.”
Damian pulled a tracker from his pocket. Seeing it, Dillon checked his own pouch.
“This…”
A blinking transmitter. Prepared via Ezekiel.
Knowing the position simplified everything. The maze-like paths were no issue. Just shatter with Stone Scales.
He hadn’t told Dillon—or even Agnes. In case they caught on and backed off.
Uneducated fools. Better to end it decisively here.
“…”
The three exchanged silent glances and floated into the air.
They had the numbers advantage. Plan was to surround and overwhelm Damian.
“Where do you think you’re going!”
Crunch! But one apex shattered that.
Agnes, who’d been watching for an opening, charged in.
Crunch! She grabbed the foe’s face and smashed it into the ground. The gas mask shattered, revealing Kell’s unconscious face.
Once you let a knight close the distance, it was over. Her hand outsped any mana barrier.
“I went easy on you yesterday.”
This time, full force. Aura shimmered menacingly around her grip.
“Damn it!”
The remaining two had no room to relax. Stone Scale boulders erupted from beneath Damian, surging toward them.
Pentagonal and hexagonal forms intertwined. Unknown principle, but clashing with mana barriers wasn’t wise.
Not open terrain, but spacious enough. Maintain distance, and they had a shot.
Plus, the enemy had dead weight.
“Uwaaaak!!”
Max and Lena dodged the Stone Scales while firing mana arrows at Dillon.
Translucent arrows rained down, but the exhausted Dillon could do nothing.
“Stay put, Mr. Dillon!”
Fortunately, Agnes reacted swiftly. She scooped the scrawny Dillon under her arm and leaped through the ceiling hole.
But the foes anticipated it. Amid the mana arrows, they mixed in small orbs.
Mana bombs.
Magic that condensed mana and detonated on signal.
Simple principle, but potency scaled with the caster.
“This…”
Agnes realized too late—two orbs were already upon her.
BOOOOM!! The dual explosions rocked the sewers.
Even with aura defense, point-blank hits like that meant heavy damage.
“W-What’s that?”
But what unfolded before them defied expectations.
“Lord Damian?”
Agnes looked stunned too. Dillon, tossed upward, had passed out regardless.
-Groooar.
At the blast’s epicenter stood a black dwarf.
-Graaaar!!
Necrotic Entity—Imur.
It had triggered 『Rage』 using the mana blast’s damage as fuel.
“What!?”
Max’s vision filled with the massive dwarf.
Not a sneak attack like Kell’s. Eyes wide open, yet he couldn’t react to its speed.
“Uwaaaak!!”
Bam bam bam!! Imur’s fists pummeled Max relentlessly. Blood sprayed, bones cracked audibly.
“Damn! Damn!”
Lena gathered her wits and drew in mana.
Blue lightning gathered in her palm, but it never reached Imur.
“KyaAAAH!!”
Whoosh. Green flames had already engulfed her. Assuming Damian controlled a familiar, she ignored defense.
But ignorant of black magic, they mistook the necrotic entity for a familiar.
It followed orders autonomously, no control needed.
“Uwaaaak!! I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!!”
Lena screamed. Though flames consumed her body, burns weren’t severe.
Like against Arkin, output deliberately lowered. Pain, however, was not.
Soon enough, Lena blacked out too.
‘Disappear.’
Imur forcibly unsummoned itself. It hadn’t stopped attacking post-Max’s knockout.
『Rage』 was overkill for mere subjugation.
“…It’s over. Magic Tower mages live up to the name. Nearly got us if we’d slipped.”
Agnes said as she lowered Dillon again.
Strictly speaking, Damian and Agnes had to protect Dillon while going somewhat easy on them.
Even with their crimes confirmed, outright killing complicated matters. Better they face judgment.
“Not… not yet!!”
Crackle!! Kell, first to fall, detonated something from his pocket. A translucent film coated the space around them.
“This…”
Familiar to Damian and Agnes.
Anti-Magic Barrier.
No more mana flowed from their bodies.
-Gurgle. Gurgle. Gurgle.
-Thud. Thud. Thud.
-Squelch. Squelch.
“You’re dying here with us. Got it?”
Kell hadn’t just used the Anti-Magic Barrier. Lures for nearby foes activated too.
Walls split open, grotesque creatures emerging one by one.
Weakened inside the barrier, but still stronger than mana-less humans.
No way they’d get expelled from the Tower like this. All die here.
“…Why are you smirking again?”
“I-I’m not smirking! Just tense from the sudden situation.”
Damian and Agnes’s reactions weren’t what Kell expected.
One looked annoyed, the other faintly excited.
“W-What?”
Kell gaped helplessly.
Damian shook his head pityingly.
“You’re slow on the uptake, really.”
With that, he drew his sword from the subspace pouch.
No need for spars with Agnes today.