Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: The Mire of Hell
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Unlike his delicately sculpted features, Damian's plans were usually quite extreme.
During the Arneisian shipboard ball incident, he'd burned an entire cruise liner to the ground, and when clashing with the Hashashin, a huge swath of forest had gone up in flames.
The incident unfolding in the Magic Tower was no different.
He also never shared his full strategy with allies. It wasn't just a matter of trust—it was a tactical choice.
If Agnes had known the plan in advance, she would've pushed for a different approach.
She probably wouldn't have kept a straight face the whole way here, either.
Whether charging in with such brute force was the right call remained questionable, but spilled water couldn't be gathered up again.
So all Agnes could do now was trust Damian and follow his lead.
'He's not the type to do anything foolish.'
It was the trust built up from traveling together.
"...."
Kilt, the lead mage on site and head of cleanup operations, blinked behind his gas mask.
Having handled various aftermaths related to the Magic Tower, he was no stranger to unexpected situations.
He'd tangled with investigators multiple times before, always resolving things without ruffling too many feathers.
He knew his limits.
He'd made it into the Tower, but climbing any higher was beyond him.
Even for Kilt, Damian's demands were too radical to accept easily.
"May I at least ask for a specific reason?"
"One of the people on site is connected to this incident."
"...And your evidence?"
"Do I need to explain that to a suspect?"
Damian shrugged and shot back.
She couldn't see his face through the gas mask, but she imagined it wore the same haughty arrogance as any other noble.
Grinding. The sound of teeth clenching came from behind the mask.
Nor was Kilt the only one. Everyone present glared at Damian and Agnes with open hostility.
These were the least skilled mages in the Magic Tower, stuck wasting time on menial tasks like this.
But they were still Magic Tower mages.
On the scale of the entire Empire, they were among the elite talents, and even if their power was modest now, they burned with endless ambition to improve in magic.
"The more I hear..."
On top of that, they were worn out physically and mentally from the dirty work.
Behaviors they'd normally avoid could bubble up unexpectedly today.
Crackle. An ice spike formed in one mage's hand.
Whoosh. Sizzle. He wasn't alone—about half the on-site crew gathered mana, readying for combat.
"Everyone, calm down!"
Kilt didn't like Damian's attitude any more than the rest, but he still had his basic reasoning intact.
Bad feelings aside, Damian carried an official writ from the Magic Tower investigators.
Investigators had emergency arrest authority, and using it wasn't an issue.
Besides, this was Hameln. The Tower held sway, but it was still Empire territory.
Unlike the Tower itself, where imperial law didn't apply, status mattered clearly here.
Everyone on Kilt's side, including him, were commoners.
Across from them stood a lady of the Schubert house—fallen on hard times, but once influential—and the Emperor's illegitimate son.
Damian might be the lowest among nobles, but comparing status with them was an insult to him.
And if they laid a hand on him here? Depending on the incident's severity, summary execution was on the table.
"Damian. Step back for now."
Knowing this, Agnes rested a hand on her sword hilt.
Part to protect Damian, but more to shield the agitated crowd.
"It's fine."
Just as Agnes went to draw her blade, Damian blocked her and stepped forward.
A powder-keg moment, spells ready to fly at any second.
Bubbling. Black mud oozed up from beneath Damian's feet.
"What the hell is this?"
"Ugh, it's sticky...."
They'd barely registered it touching their soles when it was already up to their ankles.
By the time they thought to escape, it reached their knees.
Flight spells slowed it a bit, but couldn't stop the sink.
The spreading mud swallowed everyone on site. Except for Damian and Agnes.
Black magic—mire of hell.
The power to wield the cursed mud that formed Hell's lord Camaris.
A black magic Damian hadn't used much in his past life. It was better for subduing than killing.
His role back then had been obliterating enemies with overwhelming firepower, not bothering with captives.
"Huuu.... Haa...."
Its side effects tanked its utility even more.
The cost of black magic—mire of hell—was breath.
He could still breathe, but every inhale and exhale demanded conscious focus.
It wasn't agonizing, but it left no room for anything else.
Movement was severely limited too. Lose focus for a second, and respiratory failure could knock him out cold.
"Fine, let's take this all the way!"
Crackle. A lightning spear hurtled toward Damian. One mage, emotions overriding sense, kicked things off.
Once one crossed the line, the rest followed easily.
Even those who'd shown no prior hostility began casting at Damian.
Mana blades and elemental spells pierced the blue fog, brimming with clear intent to kill.
Damian had started it, but if they harmed him, they'd face the fallout too.
"What...?"
"No way it blocks that easily?"
But nothing of the sort happened. Black mud formed a dome around Damian and Agnes.
"Blocked" wasn't quite right—the mud devoured the spells.
Bubbling. The hemispherical mud churned like it might burst. The shock rippled out as crashing waves that slammed the mages.
"Arghhh!!"
"Damn it, damn it!"
It didn't fully submerge them. Damian had dialed back the power.
In his past life, mire of hell just pinned feet at best.
But Camaris's mire of hell absorbed attacks and turned them against foes.
It couldn't gulp as much as devouring, but its range was wider.
'This is bad...!'
Around ten mages were neutralized in seconds. No meaningful resistance.
They'd heard rumors of Damian until they were sick of them, but feeling it firsthand was different.
These Tower mages might've hit their talent ceilings, but they had more field experience than him.
Many were from the capital, too.
What worried Kilt wasn't Damian getting hurt and complicating things—it was them losing.
"You know what it means to make an enemy of the imperial family, right?"
Damian asked in a voice cold as ice. It raised goosebumps without a hint of magic.
"Before the investigation, I'll hold everyone here accountable—but I'll give two of you a chance."
He wiggled his index and middle fingers as he continued.
"Confess your overreach. Promise to leave the Magic Tower as penance, and I won't pursue your resistance."
He drew his thumb across his throat as he spoke. Death—or equivalent—for the rest.
Yet no one spoke up right away. The Tower was their pride.
They'd lose their heads before abandoning it.
"Fair enough. Chopping heads catches culprits anyway."
With that, he drew his sword. Mages with only heads above the mud couldn't fight back.
"Damian, I'll take responsibility."
Kilt said in a trembling voice. Damian tilted his head.
"Please, quench your anger with my life alone."
"Don't talk nonsense. Why would trash like you value your neck higher than the rest?"
That only amplified the others' panic. No one here could rein in Damian's rampage.
Even his fiancée from the Schubert house just stood by, offering no check.
"T-this lowly mage Elang begs forgiveness from Lord Damian Renekht. I'll leave the Tower!"
One mage bellowed it. Only his head and feet poked from the mud.
At Damian's gesture, the mud churned and dragged Elang out.
"H-ha. Thank you, Lord Damian. O-of course, upholding imperial law matters more than the Tower."
Elang prostrated himself after emerging, gasping.
Face hidden by the mask, but surely groveling with the most servile expression.
"I-I apologize too. Mage Drenel!"
Two mages emerged from the mud now, heaving for breath. Relieved to be alive, for the moment.
"It's you two."
""Pardon?""
But a colder smile greeted them. They just shook their heads, clueless.
"So, found what we were looking for?"
At Damian's question, their bodies froze rigid.
A beat of silence, then mana surged in them.
These two hadn't resisted during the earlier commotion.
So they had mana to spare, and now it was time to focus on escape, not fight.
Bubbling. But Damian reacted faster.
The widespread mire converged solely on their positions.
"Urk, aaagh!!"
"W-what? Why's it sinking so fast?"
Narrowed range boosted its power. Seconds later, only their heads remained above the mud.
"Knock them out."
Thwack! Thwack! At Damian's word, Agnes clubbed their heads with her sheathed sword.
Damian hauled them out and rummaged their pockets.
'Got it.'
Cube-shaped magic devices and explosion debris from both.
Decisive proof targeting Grisha and Leon.
"Could you... explain?"
Kilt asked, steadying himself. Damian tossed him the two cube devices.
"These?"
"Doesn't the cleanup feel a bit sluggish?"
It had taken longer than expected.
But they'd chalked it up to the massive blast and shoddy worker skills.
"These devices are interfering with purification."
They'd come from Elang and Drenel. Clear intent behind it.
"How could you be so sure they're the culprits?"
"They're not Tower affiliates."
That matched Grisha and Leon's methods.
Even Tower mages, they'd outsourced dirty work via merchant contacts.
"Sorry to everyone. Had to put on this act to smoke them out."
Damian bowed to Kilt and the other mages. They could only gape.
A promising rookie in the Tower, the Emperor's bastard outside—nobles rarely apologized to commoners.
Yet Damian's was so straightforward it left them flustered.
"No need to apologize. It was for the greater good."
Despite the ordeal they'd just endured, his words melted away all resentment like snow.
What to call it? He had that magnetic pull on people.
"I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That you were acting, Damian."
His high-handed act earlier wasn't his usual style.
Past life or now, he despised nobles strutting around arrogantly.
"By my standards... it was pretty obvious. I'm good at acting, you know."
"You..."
She still carried those words from the old world's memories close to her heart. The more he learned, the more intriguing she seemed.
"Handle the cleanup from here. I'll help where I can."
Through Ezekiel, precisely. He was busy dealing with Grisha and Leon.
"Um...."
As they turned to leave, one female mage shot her hand up.
"So, could you buy us a meal sometime?"
The other women nodded along.
A dinner with the Empire's top heartthrob wasn't an opportunity that came twice.