Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: The Mage in the Coffin
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[Chapter 50]
“Phew, ha. These slimes are a bit of a headache.”
Agnes wiped the sweat from her forehead as she spoke. Her expression was more refreshed than ever.
It had been a long time since she fought in real combat without using aura.
No matter what, when the opponent’s level rises, there are limits to fighting with just physical strength and technique.
But this time, the situation was just right.
Thanks to the Anti-Magic Barrier Kellin had deployed, the aberrant creatures’ powers were weakened. She could handle them sufficiently without aura.
“Fighting together like this was a good experience, Lord Damian.”
The most decisive factor was that Damian was by her side.
In the past, they had backed each other up at the Arnesian shipboard ball, and yesterday they had sparred dozens of times.
So they had a solid grasp of each other’s habits and tendencies.
“Yeah, it brings back memories.”
It was a good experience for Damian as well.
Unity with the sword.
Such real combat was a huge help in embodying that elusive sensation.
“Hahaha… hahaha…”
Kellin let out a hollow laugh.
He couldn’t believe what had just happened before his eyes. In the span of two days, everything he knew had been utterly upended.
Crackle!! The Anti-Magic Barrier enveloping the surroundings shattered like glass fragments.
Unlike at the shipboard ball, it wasn’t maintained by a magic tool. So Damian drew his sword without hesitation.
If there had been a magic tool, he would have destroyed that first, as expected.
‘Agnes wouldn’t have liked that.’
Now he understood why Agnes had looked so displeased. She was truly obsessed with the sword.
“Grrrrraaaah!!”
Damian extracted a certain amount of mana and life force not just from Kellin, but also from the unconscious Max and Lena.
The other two might have prepared a last resort like Kellin. He could handle it, but they couldn’t keep spending time in the sewers.
Damian transferred the extracted power, via partial Absorption, to Dylan, who was like a rag. He was still unconscious, but his condition had improved significantly.
“Now, how do we drag these four out… Hm?”
Rumble rumble rumble! While pondering this, one wall split open.
Damian and Agnes assumed combat stances again.
Though they had fought continuously, both had plenty of mana and stamina left. No need to run.
“What’s that?”
But what emerged from the gap was not what they expected.
“…Doesn’t it look like a coffin?”
As Agnes said, inside was a massive stone coffin.
Various patterns were engraved on its surface. But they weren’t the styles commonly used in the Empire. They were from even further in the past.
‘Really….’
The mage Valefor had mentioned. It was likely his coffin.
To guard against any possible traps, Damian first cast Black Magic—Gaze.
‘What?’
However, he couldn’t detect mana or life force at all.
It wasn’t that it didn’t exist. The area around the coffin was shrouded in gray mist, making it impossible to check properly.
Something was definitely there. Damian cautiously moved beyond the wall.
There were no particular traps. Really, nothing but the coffin.
“What on earth is it? It looks like something you’d see in ancient ruins.”
“Let’s open it for now.”
The coffin was large enough to believe a giant lay inside. Damian and Agnes stood on either side and simultaneously lifted the lid.
“Huh?”
Suddenly, the surroundings changed.
A vast space all white in every direction. The coffin and Agnes were gone.
A trap? Spatial transfer magic? Various possibilities flashed through Damian’s mind.
Then, his eyes met those of a man staring at him.
A loose robe, a wide-brimmed hat, and a massive staff.
White beard down to his chest and wrinkled skin—he was the archetypal old wizard from folktales.
“You at the t—.”
His words cut off midway. At the same time, his vision lurched violently.
Thud. At first, he didn’t know what the sound was. Only when he saw his headless body collapsing did he realize his head had been severed.
There was no warning. He hadn’t seen mana surging from the opponent’s body. But it felt familiar somehow.
“…Huff! Huff!”
“L-Lord Damian, are you alright?”
As Damian half-kneeled, sweating coldly, Agnes supported him from the side.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
It wasn’t a pleasant experience. It reminded him of the time before his regression when Michael’s sword took his head.
But the most important thing was the power he’d felt from the mysterious old man.
‘It’s definitely similar to when I heard that bell.’
The relic that nullified black magic. It felt like the bell Rubia had used at the last moment.
If so, was this old man from the ancient civilization era too?
“What happened?”
“I put strength into opening the coffin lid, and suddenly you screamed.”
Nothing had happened to Agnes. Was there another condition to enter the pure white space? He couldn’t tell right now.
“Wait a moment. …Ugh! Haaah!”
The result was the same. The instant he met the nameless old man, his head flew off.
“Lord Damian, we should retreat for now. It could get dangerous.”
“No. I’m fine. There’s no immediate danger, right? So just wait a little.”
Thanks to Kellin’s device, the sewer’s aberrant creatures no longer approached. Dylan’s condition wasn’t bad, so a bit more time was fine.
“Understood….”
Agnes looked at him with worried eyes. Damian grinned back and placed his hand on the coffin again.
In this way, Damian experienced dozens of deaths.
* * *
No matter what he did, the result was the same. Before Damian could try anything, his head flew first.
The old man’s power was similar to the relic Rubia had used.
It didn’t completely seal it like back then, but it was markedly slower than usual. So he couldn’t respond to the unidentified attack.
‘The upside is that I have infinite chances.’
Time spent in the pure white space didn’t affect reality. And even if his head flew off, his actual body took no damage.
If Damian wished, he could stay in the white space without going out.
So after a few attempts, he didn’t leave at all. It just wasted time and worried Agnes more.
‘There’s still fatigue, though.’
Even if it didn’t affect his body, his mind was wearing down.
Still, he didn’t want to miss this chance. Beyond the contract with Valefor, he might gain information on ancient relics too.
‘And there’s no guarantee it’ll stay here.’
He wasn’t even sure why it appeared before him. No assurance he could find it again, making retreat harder.
‘What to do….’
The speed of casting black magic was drastically slower than usual. Without overcoming that gap, his head went first before he could do anything properly.
He returned to before his head was severed again. Now he had to do something.
Damian fired Hellfire at the old man. Rather than blocking attacks, dealing with the old man seemed the right choice.
‘Wait… what’s this?’
His head fell again this time. But something was different from before.
‘It’s a bit faster?’
He drew power from the soul-bound contract and fused it with mana. That was the principle of black magic.
He’d never felt the process in detail before.
Unlike magic, which built and calculated formulas step by step, black magic relied partly on instinct.
Repeating death here had made him keenly sense the manifestation process of black magic without realizing it.
As it repeated, it edged back toward normal—not just normal, but faster. Paradoxically, the suppression enabled it.
‘It’ll reach this time.’
Back to the start again. The usual old man appeared before him.
Whoosh. His choice was Hellfire again.
The contract engraved by Molech reacted. Hell’s power spread through his body and condensed into flames.
Accelerate it. The ancient power suppressed him, but feeling the weight allowed him to overcome it.
Ssssk. A red line drew across Damian’s neck. But his head didn’t fall.
“Alright. That’s enough for this lesson.”
The old man extinguished the Hellfire burning him and spoke.
“Lesson? What do you mean?”
“Since you’ve gained enlightenment, this counts as a lesson too.”
The old man chuckled, stroking his goatee. He looked quite satisfied.
“You. Are you a mage? Or a black magician?”
“Magic, aura, and black magic. Don’t see the world as cut by a sword. They influence each other.”
Light flickered from the tip of his staff. A simple illumination spell.
Whoosh. And a green flame rose from his other hand.
Black Magic—Hellfire, which Damian knew all too well.
‘I see.’
Dylan had spoken of a black magician’s tomb, Valefor of a mage’s tomb. They didn’t contradict.
The old man just needed to be both a black magician and a mage.
“What’s the easiest way to counter black magic?”
The old man shrugged as he asked.
“Simple. Learn black magic yourself. And the demons of hell give even such a person a tiny bit of their power. Seems they find it quite amusing.”
Those who created necromancy weren’t mere mages either.
Decarabia must have shared a sliver of its power with them too. That was more interesting.
The bell Rubia used, and this old man’s magic, were results of analyzing and researching black magic.
‘Magic… might be more influenced by black magic than I thought.’
What about aura? Of course, now that all such history was erased, it was largely meaningless.
“Not interested in old tales.”
Damian pointed at the old man.
“That staff you’re holding. I could use it.”
“Valefor’s request, I presume. He’s coveted this staff since long ago.”
He said this with a chuckle.
“Demons are truly incomprehensible. What value does this staff hold?”
Thud. As the old man tapped the floor, the staff turned to light and vanished.
“When you return, open the coffin. My staff and the Book of Hell should be together inside.”
The old man had approached Damian and gripped his shoulder before he knew it.
“But contracts aren’t everything. Though borrowed, it’s ultimately you who wields the power.”
The old man’s eyes blazed with intense light.
“You won’t embody this enlightenment right away. Just as your real self takes no damage, there’s no learning either. So don’t forget today’s direction.”
Ancient power suppressing black magic.
The best way was to keep Michael or Rubia from obtaining it.
But even if he failed, today’s experience would let him find a way to overcome it.
Moreover, faster black magic casting would give him an edge in normal combat too.
This enlightenment was more valuable than a new contract.
“When the time comes, I’ll come again. Don’t be impatient.”
The old man continued like some mentor. Damian faintly saw Derek in him.
“What’s your goal? Aren’t black magicians your enemies?”
The old man had clearly learned black magic to counter black magicians. Why help him then?
“Indeed. That’s why I intend to set it right, young black magician.”
The next words were even harder to understand. But time was up.
The pure white space collapsed. Damian’s consciousness returned to his original body.
“…sir?”
He opened his eyes to see Guardian Dennis’s face.
Two other guardians were behind him, and Agnes stuck close by with a worried look.
“…”
Looking down, the opened coffin held a staff and the Book of Hell.
“Are you alright, Lord Damian?”
“Yes.”
Looking at the puzzled Dennis, Damian replied calmly.
“You arrived sooner than expected.”