The Caged Bird and the Mad Dog
With Valen's approval, we initiated the operation.
Calling it an "operation" was a bit of a stretch. It was simple, really: we would board one of the Black Fang Mercenary Group's slave transport carriages and boldly roll right into the black mages' stronghold.
But to the branch family mages crammed inside the carriage with me, it apparently looked like a suicide mission.
“You're crazy! Absolutely insane! This is madness!”
“Quiet, Brock. We're almost at their base, so shut your mouth.”
As the most influential figure among the branch family mages, Brock didn't stop babbling the entire way to the abandoned mine. My ears were starting to ache.
“This makes no sense… Raygan, you tricked me! You said this was a covert operation!”
“It is covert. What's more secret than walking straight into the heart of enemy territory of your own free will?”
“We're going to die! We're walking into a tiger's den empty-handed, without any weapons!”
Brock patted his body down with a miserable, tearful expression. The branch family mages in the carriage were stripped of their staves and artifacts, wearing nothing but tattered rags.
“What does it matter if a mage has a weapon? As long as your mana core is intact, you're fine.”
“That's easy for you to say!”
“This is why I hate dealing with kids.”
“You're the same age as me!”
Just as Brock was about to protest further, the carriage jolted violently. We had entered the narrow tunnels of the abandoned mine.
Before long, the carriage came to a halt in a massive cavern that served as a loading dock.
“Remember. Do exactly as I told you, and you won't die.”
The branch family mages reluctantly nodded at my words.
The carriage doors swung open. There were four black mages in the cavern. The bastards never dreamed that mere "merchandise" would dare to fight back.
While I drew the black mages' attention, the others moved according to plan.
The skirmish was brief.
—*Thud!*
Brock and the other branch mages struck the vital points of the defenseless black mages, killing them instantly, while I subdued the sole survivor.
A few of the mages trembled, shocked by the realization that they had just taken a life, but their hesitation didn't last long.
“H-Hieeeek! P-Please, spare me!”
The black mage groveled at my feet, letting out a shrill, pathetic shriek.
I had spared him because he looked like he held some rank, and fortunately, unlike Elder Veron, this guy didn't seem to have a restriction spell placed on his soul.
The moment the tip of my blade touched his throat, he began spilling information before I could even ask.
“I-I've committed a terrible crime! I was only following orders, I swear!”
“What did you do with the people you kidnapped?”
“T-That…”
“Speak.”
“They were used… as materials for experiments… and rituals…”
“Bastards.”
It was exactly as I had expected.
I didn't need to hear any more. I kicked him and demanded, “There must be survivors left. Where are they?”
“T-The ones we brought in last week are all in the adjacent cavern! There's a holding cell there!”
“How many guards are stationed there?”
“Four.”
“Their tiers?”
“They are likely… Tier 3.”
Three Tier 3 black mages.
That was a level the branch family mages with me could easily handle.
However, making a scene would complicate things. If reinforcements arrived, we would be in trouble. I decided to maintain our stealth advantage.
“You. Did you say your name was Kalus?”
“Y-Yes, sir…”
“Lead us to the cells. But make it look like you're escorting us as prisoners. Do you understand?”
“Y-You mean… I should betray the others…”
“Quick on the uptake. Try anything funny, and I'll carve a wind tunnel straight through your chest.”
Kalus hesitated at first, but a light prick of my blade against his shoulder blade quickly made him cooperative.
The cave passage we entered was damp and gloomy. The metallic stench of blood and the distinct, foul odor of black magic hung heavy in the air. When my expression hardened, Brock asked cautiously, “Raygan… are you… okay?”
“Just remembering the past.”
The atmosphere was identical to the black mages' dens I had raided in my past life.
I clicked my tongue as I examined the dark magic arrays carved into the stone walls.
To think black mages were already this active at this point in time.
Black mages were like cockroaches. Once an infestation began, they multiplied uncontrollably.
Even though the Imperial Magic Academy and the great families declared black magic a taboo, threatening capital punishment for any violators, their numbers never seemed to dwindle.
Perhaps it was only natural. Just like swordsmen, mages worshiped power. When a mage hit a wall in their training, they would desperately seek any method to break through—and black magic was a dangerously tempting shortcut.
After all, the Archduke of Demonic Magic himself would eventually wage war for the sole purpose of reaching Tier 9 and transcending humanity.
“…Tsk.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth, as if I had chewed on a mouthful of raw, bitter roots.
“W-We're here.”
As I took a deep breath to clear my mind, we arrived at the cavern holding the prisoners.
The three black mages on guard lowered their vigilance the moment they recognized Kalus.
“Urgh!”
“Aaargh!”
We didn't miss that split-second opening.
The branch family mages unleashed their Rune Magic in unison. In an instant, three fresh corpses hit the dirt.
I hadn't even given the order, but they moved with perfect coordination. They had looked like they were marching to their deaths back in the carriage, but once thrown into actual combat, the branch mages fought like fish in water.
I suppose they were Benheim mages after all, even if they were from the branch family. Or perhaps their blood boiled at the sheer cruelty of the black mages.
Impressed, I turned my attention to the cells.
“…”
As I stood before the iron bars, dozens of pairs of terrified eyes locked onto me.
It was a horrific sight.
Nearly fifty people were caged like beasts.
Most were children or young adults. A few cold corpses were scattered among them.
“…Ugh.”
Brock and several other mages averted their eyes. It was a sight far too gruesome for sheltered noble young masters to bear.
I scanned the interior of the cells.
Then, one cell caught my eye.
Deep within the cavern, unlike the other tattered cages, stood a private cell furnished with a luxurious bed and desk.
A young girl was sitting inside.
“…”
She was dull and lifeless, looking as if a monochromatic painting had stepped into reality.
Unbothered by the commotion outside, she sat on the edge of the bed, quietly reading a book.
I walked over and stood before her cell.
I didn't recognize her face, yet she felt strangely familiar. Had I met her in my past life?
I searched my memories, but no name came to mind.
“Who are you?”
At my question, the girl raised her head. Her vacant, grey eyes locked onto me.
“…And who are you?”
I hadn't expected her to answer a question with a question, so I narrowed my eyes.
“I'm not a black mage. I'm here to rescue you.”
“Is that so? Then go ahead and rescue me.”
The girl turned her gaze back to her book. Her attitude suggested she had no attachment to her own life, as if our presence were merely a minor distraction.
Yet, I could feel the unstable but incredibly pure flow of mana circulating around her.
A mage. And a Tier 3 at that.
She looked to be about my age.
To be a Tier 3 mage at this age meant she was likely the offspring of a highly prestigious magic family.
Seeing her locked up, she clearly wasn't affiliated with the black mages, and her body didn't reek of their foul energy.
Most importantly, there had to be a reason why they were giving her such luxurious treatment.
She was undoubtedly a highly valuable hostage to them.
“Listen carefully. You have two choices.”
I tapped the iron bars of her cell.
“First, you can stay here and die a dog's death in a cavern that could collapse at any moment.”
At the mention of death, soft whimpers and sobs erupted from the children in the adjacent cages.
The girl's hand paused on the page, but she still didn't look up.
Ignoring the noise, I held up a second finger.
“Second, you can follow us and escape this godforsaken den. The choice is yours, but I highly recommend the second option.”
A brief silence hung in the air.
The girl closed her book, raised her head, and looked me in the eye.
“Neither option appeals to me.”
“Then which one do you hate less?”
“The latter.”
“Then it's decided. Get moving.”
I gestured to Kalus, who tremblingly pulled out a ring of keys.
It seemed this monochromatic girl had served as the pillar of support for the children trapped here.
“Everyone, come out. Let's go home.”
The moment she spoke in her dry voice, the children began to follow us without a single complaint.
While Brock unlocked the shackles binding the children one by one, I shoved Kalus forward.
“Now, lead us deeper inside.”
“Yes? Deeper… inside?”
“Yes. Thanks to the barrier, we won't be able to leave the way we came anyway.”
Barriers of this nature were usually one-way.
Since we had entered through the only entrance, we had to find another way out.
Normally, that meant either killing the caster who erected the barrier, or…
“We're going to destroy the barrier's core.”
We had to destroy the core serving as the barrier's anchor.
This was to pave the way for the Rune Sentinels waiting outside.
It was also the second objective of our operation.
“So lead us to the core. Now.”
“N-No, you can't!”
Kalus turned pale as a sheet and shook his head frantically.
“That place… is far too dangerous!”
“Why?”
Kalus pointed down the dark tunnel ahead, his voice trembling with dread.
“Because… *he* is down there.”
He.
Come to think of it, the black mage who had communicated with Gerkin through the crystal ball had used a similar honorific.
There weren't many figures among the black mages who would be referred to with such reverence.
Could it be?
Is the Archduke of Demonic Magic here?
“Answer me. Who is he? Is it the Archduke of Demonic Magic?”
“Th-The Archduke of Demonic Magic? Who is that?”
Kalus blinked in genuine confusion, clearly hearing the name for the first time.
Judging by his reaction, he wasn't lying.
I had assumed any black mage would know the Archduke's name, but perhaps he had yet to make a name for himself at this point in time.
“Then is the person you mentioned Markel Benheim?”
“N-No. Lord Markel has been away for some time.”
That aligned with the report from the Benheim informant.
Markel Benheim wasn't scheduled to show his face until the meeting five days from now.
“Then who on earth is down there?”
“In the center of the mine… there is a mercenary whom the higher-ups hired for an astronomical sum.”
“A mercenary?”
“Yes. He's a monster… a terrifyingly powerful man! He slices off heads as easily as cutting radishes…”
So Gerkin wasn't the only mercenary they had hired.
It made sense. A third-rate outfit like the Black Fang Mercenary Group was hardly reliable. It was only natural they would hire a real powerhouse to guard them.
“Who is this mercenary?”
“I-I don't recall his name. But… he calls himself the 'Mercenary King.' I heard he wields an incredibly massive greatsword…”
“…”
Hearing that was enough to paint a clear picture.
A mercenary hired by black mages, wielding a massive greatsword.
And possessing the sheer arrogance to style himself the Mercenary King.
“Ha…”
A smirk involuntarily tugged at the corner of my mouth.
He was a man I could never forget, even if I tried.
During my mercenary days before my regression, he was a nemesis who had allied with the Archduke of Demonic Magic and relentlessly hounded me.
The Archduke's most loyal hound, a man who would sell his very soul for gold and power.
“…Barg.”
“Ah, yes! That's it! That was definitely his name!”
Kalus eagerly chimed in.
I let out a quiet sigh and rested my hand on the hilt of my sword.
“This is actually perfect.”
“Pardon?”
I tightened my grip on the hilt of the sword hanging at my waist.
The Benheim treasure sword I had received from Stern vibrated faintly, as if in resonance with my rising intent.
“It's about time I settled an old grudge.”