Chapter 33
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Black Mage's Dungeon (1)
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"Everyone, battle stations!"
The moment Blanc unleashed his white lightning in a thunderbolt motion, severing the statue's neck.
"Uwaaaah... Aaaah!"
"Get it out... Get it... out!"
The walls they'd been traversing up to that point crumbled inward, unleashing the statues trapped within—or rather, the wraiths masquerading as statues—that burst forth.
"Damn it! Hold the formation!"
"It's too cramped!"
"Press your backs together and fight!"
In an instant, dozens, hundreds of wraiths poured from the walls, swarming the group.
"Uwaaaak! Save me!"
One of the squires was seized by the wraiths and dragged into the crumbled wall.
Soon after, from the edge of the darkness, a horrific scream echoed as the dragged squire's arms and legs were torn away.
"Rakshar!"
Rakshar had no chance to draw his primary weapon, the bow.
Instead, he was hurling away the wraiths clinging to him with the sturdy brute strength unique to werewolves.
'At this rate, we're all done for!'
It was a narrow passage where three men shoulder-to-shoulder would barely fit. With wraiths lunging from all directions in such tight confines, continuing the fight here would be impossible to sustain.
"I'll clear the path! Everyone, advance!"
Standing still meant death.
Blanc hurriedly opened the pouch at his waist and sprinkled its contents onto his sword.
'In the end, I have to use this!'
The white powder inside the pouch glittered brilliantly in the torchlight.
"Young master!"
The sticky ghost blood coating Blanc's sword began to glow red hot upon absorbing the white powder.
"Rakshar, shoulder to shoulder!"
Blanc infused his glowing red-hot sword with lightning and, dodging the wraiths' grasp, climbed onto Rakshar's shoulder. From there, he leaped over the group, surging ahead.
"Kieeeek!"
"Blanc!"
Blanc, now at the vanguard in a flash, swung his red-hot sword, igniting the wraiths in agonized screams with each strike.
"Blanc, that is..."
Blanc quickly sprinkled powder from the pouch onto Noel's sword as well.
"It's salt!"
When Blanc had instructed Billy to fetch mint candies, he'd also ordered high-quality salt prepared.
And Billy, true to his orders, had spent the night waiting at a general store, securing the finest salt available.
Sun-dried sea salt.
Born from the mother of life, the sea, and infused with the essence of the father of light, the sun.
Since light and life stood in direct opposition to darkness and death.
"Kieeeek!"
The dark and malevolent had no choice but to fear it.
"Stop and you die! We have to break through!"
"Got it!"
Blanc linked up with Noel at the forefront, facing the wraiths surging toward them like waves.
"Here we go!"
At Blanc's shout, Noel enveloped himself in the Tolome family's secret art, the Lion's Heart.
"Come on, you cursed bastards!"
As Noel's lion-like roar ended, the passage filled with wraiths charged at them like a tidal wave.
Tolome's lion, Bartolomeo, and the Knight of Swiftness, Edwin, were renowned individually, but their names were often coupled together in praise.
Stronger together against foes than apart.
"I'll break through!"
"Don't worry about the rear!"
Edwin's lightning-fast strikes paired perfectly with Bartolomeo's overwhelming defense and pressure.
"Path's open! Move!"
"Don't stop moving! Get grabbed and you're done!"
That flawless synergy enabled even first-time sword partners Noel and Blanc to display advanced coordination.
Blanc ignored the wraiths lunging at him, eyes fixed ahead, burning the charging horde.
Noel solidly guarded his rear.
Calmly slicing clinging wraiths, creating safe space for Blanc. Amid Blanc's storm-like advance clearing the path, even mindless wraiths hesitated momentarily.
Bam, bam!
"You fuckers! Die!"
"Sir Bauer! Stay calm!"
At the tail end, veteran Hansen and powerhouse Bauer firmly held the rear.
Tolome knights were resilient.
Unyielding in sudden crises, they calmly performed their duties.
Thus, relentlessly slashing endless wraiths, the group pressed on.
Hours of carving through wraiths in the endless dark passage—or so it felt to the knights, perhaps shorter, but that's how it dragged.
Even Tolome knights' stamina and spirit wore thin. Hundreds of claw marks scarred their armor.
The group tired.
Stumbling without order, mouths tasting of iron.
"Is this where I die today?!"
"I'll take at least one more with me, you sons of bitches!"
"Hold the torches steady! Anyone who panics and drops will die by my hand first!"
Knights enduring to the last with all their might.
Their tearful efforts paid off; finally, Blanc at the front spotted a sliver of light at the passage's end.
"Light!"
The end of the hellish long tunnel appeared.
But as escape seemed near, wraiths lashed out more furiously.
Their outstretched hands blackened vision completely.
"Fucking... hell. For real!"
Bauer relentlessly swung his gore-caked warhammer, but wraiths showed no sign of thinning.
Regardless of bodies stored in walls, this exceeded missing miners and knights.
Countless wraiths relentlessly dragged at them, slowing advance.
As speed faltered, more clung on.
"Uwaaaak!"
"Damn it! Can't hold much longer!"
Even steadfast knights were pulled away one by one.
A vicious cycle. They wouldn't last.
In the direst straits, Blanc gave his all. His soul firm and unyielding.
Yet the vessel holding a warrior's soul was an unfinished fourteen-year-old body.
Edwin's demanding swordplay drained stamina fast.
'Kuh!'
Nevertheless, steeling his mind, Blanc pierced through—but human limits existed.
His sword slowed, feet halted. Whipping his body to break through, but...
Hurk!
Dark red blood trickled from his mouth.
"Blanc!"
"Shit! Blanc, get back!"
Obet stepped in for the internally injured Blanc, but was insufficient replacement.
Not skill, but his sword style didn't suit solo breakthroughs.
Bauer might manage, but he guarded the rear.
His absence would collapse the line instantly.
Worse, Blanc's salt ran out.
No matter how prepared, Blanc hadn't foreseen this hell.
Stuck, unable to advance or retreat, wraiths swarmed blackly.
'Just a bit further...'
Blanc's mind blurred from exhaustion and injury.
Fading vision caught distant light at the end. Reach it and survive.
Clinging to fraying consciousness, he moved. Couldn't quit here.
Recalling his regression's purpose, he reignited his inner fire.
Straightening flickering mind, raising sword once more.
In Blanc's dimming eyes, the end's light gleamed.
And at that light's end...
'Lord Aselheit...'
Aselheit stood there.
He lowered his wooden staff with a slash.
The world approached again.
Slowly... very slowly...
Blanc unwittingly slashed toward the light.
The light drew near.
"Cough!"
"Young master!"
"Blanc, you okay?!"
Blanc spat blood, regaining senses.
"Where... are we now?"
"We escaped the passage. Drink some water first."
Noel personally held the canteen to Blanc's lips.
"How...?"
"That's what I want to know! Hahaha!"
Noel, rarely expressive, couldn't help laughing now.
Regaining composure, Blanc surveyed surroundings.
Turning, the passage of wraith battle lay there.
Or had.
"It collapsed?"
"What're you talking about? You collapsed it."
"Me?"
Blanc understandably panicked. What had he done?
Noel gripped his bewildered shoulder firmly.
"Congratulations, Blanc. You've grasped the essence."
The slash as Blanc faded.
Its terrifying power felt most keenly by Noel and Obet here.
"If we'd been a second slower, we'd be mincemeat. You rascal."
Obet chuckled teasingly.
Obet had filled in when Blanc collapsed vomiting blood.
'How did he endure this!'
No killing intent or pressure a fourteen-year-old boy could withstand.
Ten years training under father and brother.
Post-adulthood ritual, Stephan Tolome dragged Noel and Obet into real combat.
Not matching Yonas's fame backed by Schmaier and Tolome support, but Obet confident in Real combat skill.
Yet Blanc's wave of malice overwhelmed even his decade of harsh training.
'Not only endured, but broke through! At fourteen!'
Obet had dismissed him as mere child despite Aselheit's sixth knight talent.
Now, Blanc was strongest inheriting Tolome blood.
Surpassing brothers, threatening father's generation.
'...!'
"What...!"
Thus reevaluating Blanc mentally while blocking wraiths, Obet felt undeniable majestic aura from behind.
Urgent, but instinct forced Noel and Obet to turn before thought.
There, staggering Blanc raised his sword high.
"Get down!"
"Uwaak!"
Blanc's staggering sword peaked, then descended slowly.
Its unleashed momentum split the immovable wraith horde like a solid wall.
The passage too.
Filled with pure white light.
"It's collapsing! Damn it!"
"Run! Keep running!"
"Young master!"
Erasing all in blinding white.
"That's how it happened."
"But I don't remember."
"Doesn't matter—you did it. Can't comment much since I haven't reached those heights myself."
Done once, doable again.
Hard to reach a realm first time; retracing known path easier.
Blanc stared at his hand, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
'Did I recreate Lord Aselheit's sword?'
Hansen, one who'd witnessed Blanc vs. Aselheit duel, noted similarity.
Though pressure differed.
"Composed? Let's move. Can't linger in unknown place."
"Entrance collapsed; might not exit."
Obet stood, saying so.
Fair point with collapsed path, but Blanc, knowing Baum Mine layout, knew exits existed.
"When entering, those disguised as Sir Carlo and Sir Asat mentioned connected paths, but..."
"Trust those bastards? Anyway, less worry exit now than..."
Obet nodded ahead.
"...worry advance."
Escaping wraith passage revealed grand corridor.
Like fine mansion halls.
Red carpet laid throughout.
"Where does it lead?"
"To hell, probably."
Blood-like vivid carpet stretched endlessly into dark corridor.
Into the shadows, forever.