Episode 16

Chris spoke with a calm, steady tone.

“Let me say it again. I intend to bring the Dark Maga under my complete control.”

“!!”

The sudden declaration caught Count Kazar completely off guard.

“W-what do you mean by that…?”

“You still don’t understand, do you? It’s not a complicated matter. I, Christian, am declaring that I will become the master of the Dark Maga.”

Count Kazar stared at him with eyes so wide they seemed ready to tear.

‘He’s shocked. If he heard my true goal, he’d probably faint on the spot.’

Seizing the Dark Maga was only the first step.

Chris’s real ambition was to reach the pinnacle of the magical world.

To become the Demon King.

‘And not just any Demon King — I have to become one of the highest-ranked Demon Kings. Only then can I prevent the great war from breaking out.’

In the Magic Empire, there wasn’t just one Demon King.

At the top was the Demon Emperor, ranked number one, followed by several other Demon Kings.

For reference, the “Bloodthirsty Demon King” who had sparked the great war was ranked fourth.

So Chris had to become at least a third-ranked Demon King or higher.

‘At that level, I’ll enjoy wealth and glory beyond imagination.’

At that moment, Count Kazar finally spoke, his voice slow and deliberate.

“Do you really believe you can become the master of the Dark Maga? We’re a collateral branch.”

“If you have the ability, I understand that even collateral branches can be recognized as rightful heirs.”

“That’s just a nominal rule. And more importantly, aren’t you the weakest among your peers?”

He knew his son had changed.

But the years wasted in debauchery couldn’t be erased.

While Christian squandered his time, the other young pillars of the main family soared.

Among them, the one flying highest was Eshed.

“Being behind is something I can catch up on. But let me ask you something. Why do you think Eshed tried to undermine me?”

“…”

Count Kazar fell silent for a moment.

It was indeed a puzzling matter.

Eshed was a noble being, incomparable to Christian. So why?

“I don’t know for sure. But I have a suspicion. It’s because of your talent.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Chris nodded.

“He must have envied me for having greater talent.”

Originally, Eshed was praised as the most gifted among the next generation of the Dark Maga bloodline.

That was before Christian was born.

The title of “greatest genius” had since shifted to Christian.

It was clear Eshed tried to destroy him out of jealousy.

‘Thinking about it, what a ridiculous guy. To do something like this just because of envy? And with such an age gap?’

Eshed was nearly in his mid-twenties, envying a cousin almost ten years younger and resorting to such actions.

In any case, Christian had been called a genius before he fell apart.

And the being dwelling within Christian’s body possessed talent far beyond even the genius Christian once was.

“I am superior to them. Overwhelmingly so.”

Though he had never met the princes of the Dark Maga in person to compare, it was true.

During the great war to come, no one among the Dark Maga’s ranks would match his talent.

No one in the entire Magic Empire, in fact.

It wasn’t for nothing that the Hero said if Chris had mastered swordsmanship or magic, the outcome of the war would have been different.

“Though I’m behind now, I will ultimately stand at the very top. So far above them that they won’t even dare to look me in the eye.”

The petty heirs were not his goal. Frankly, they didn’t even register.

His aim was to stand at the summit of the Magic Empire.

At that arrogant declaration, Count Kazar swallowed hard.

‘What on earth…’

It was an impossible, absurd claim.

But what was with that unwavering look in his eyes?

It wasn’t just determination to succeed.

It was the look of someone who simply expected it to happen.

‘Should I see that as confidence, or as delusional fantasy?’

Of course, it was probably the latter.

An outrageously unrealistic story.

But was it because he was his father?

Or because Christian’s gaze was so resolute?

Maybe it was because of the astonishing things Christian had shown recently.

The thought that Christian’s words might not be mere delusions briefly crossed Count Kazar’s mind.

“In that case, Father, I have one favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. You remember when I said I’d ask you for something once I left my reckless ways behind?”

Chris spoke.

“Please use your authority to recommend me for participation in the family’s Holy Black Ceremony two months from now.”

“!!”

Count Kazar’s face twisted in surprise.

“The Holy Black Ceremony? But that’s…”

The Holy Black Ceremony.

A ritual where the bloodlines of the Dark Maga receive the blessing of their innate power, the ‘Dark Magi.’

But it wasn’t just a simple blessing.

Participants competed fiercely, and only those who proved superior received greater blessings, following the harsh law of survival of the fittest.

The better you performed, the greater the blessing; fall behind, and you receive nothing.

‘It’s also the most important event for selecting the princes.’

Chris thought quietly.

Prince.

A title given to heirs of noble magical families.

Only by standing out in this blessing ritual could one earn the title of ‘Prince.’

“I have the blood of the Dark Maga, so I have the right to participate, don’t I?”

“Of course, by bloodline alone, yes. But you know the conditions, don’t you?”

Count Kazar shook his head.

“To participate in the Holy Black Ceremony, one must have reached the second rank of Magi mastery.”

Because only from the second rank can one truly harness the Dark Magi.

The ceremony is held every three years, and at each event, young blood relatives from both direct and collateral branches who have reached the second rank participate.

“You’ve just barely reached the first rank. It’s impossible for you to challenge this ceremony now. You’ll have to wait three years.”

That was the obvious conclusion.

It usually takes at least three years, often five or more, to advance from first to second rank.

Without talent, it can take even longer.

The Dark Maga bloodlines were all born with exceptional talent, often reaching the second rank by around age fifteen.

“I can’t wait three years.”

“But there’s no other way.”

“No, there is. I just need to reach the second rank within the next two months.”

“!!”

Count Kazar’s eyes widened.

“What nonsense is this?”

He had heard countless absurd claims from his son before, but this was the most ridiculous yet.

“Even Lord Noga, who was hailed as one of the greatest geniuses in Dark Maga history, took over a year and a half to reach the second rank. And you say you’ll do it in two months? You have to be reasonable for people to listen.”

Count Kazar frowned deeply.

Chris understood his reaction.

‘Even the Hero, the greatest genius on the side of the Light, took over a year to reach the second rank.’

Exactly one year and a bit more, and that speed had shocked everyone at the time.

So yes, reaching the second rank in two months was absurd.

But Chris smiled slyly.

“Would you like to see what I can do?”

He drew his sword.

“What are you trying to do?”

“Just watch me perform the Mud Sword Technique.”

“…You’ve never learned the Mud Sword Technique, have you?”

The Mud Sword Technique was the swordsmanship of the Black Swamp Knights. Count Kazar had never taught Christian any of the Black Swamp Knights’ secret techniques during his reckless years.

“I observed it in the training grounds. I roughly understand how it’s performed.”

“What? That’s nonsense!”

Count Kazar looked utterly baffled.

“You’ll see for yourself. Just watch.”

“…Fine.”

Count Kazar nodded.

Christian took his stance and began to perform the Mud Sword Technique.

As he watched, Count Kazar’s eyes grew wider and wider.

An unbelievable, impossible sight was unfolding before him.

---

‘Following basic swordsmanship is easy enough.’

As Melin’s case showed, the Black Swamp Knights were a group of magic swordsmen.

They combined swordsmanship with dark magic.

Not just the Black Swamp Knights, but the entire Dark Maga followed this style.

Here’s a question.

Why are they called the Black Swamp Knights?

Because their specialty was weakening and subduing opponents through cursed dark magic, like dragging them down into a swamp.

Therefore, their sword techniques focused less on raw power and more on controlling or weakening the enemy.

The Mud Sword Technique was specialized for that kind of control.

Once you understand the essence of the swordsmanship, copying it becomes much easier.

Swish!

From Chris’s hand, the first form, “Earth Scatter,” unfolded perfectly.

Not just the sword’s movement, but the arm’s motion, body posture, footwork, even the flow of magic—all flawless.

And it wasn’t just the first form.

The second, third forms followed, each executed with impeccable precision.

‘How is this possible?’

Count Kazar, who had mastered the Mud Sword Technique himself, could tell exactly how precise Chris’s performance was.

‘Did Deputy Commander Melin secretly teach him? No, that can’t be. That’s not her style.’

Even if that were true, it was still impossible.

How many days had passed since Christian left his reckless ways?

Even if he had been taught nonstop for 24 hours a day, achieving this level of skill was impossible.

Watching Count Kazar’s horrified expression, Chris smirked inwardly.

‘Is that all? It’s not even that difficult.’

After all, it was just basic swordsmanship.

All he had to do was mimic what he saw.

Knights who had spent years sweating and bleeding to master the Mud Sword Style would be furious to hear that, but for Chris, it was far too simple.

So, he decided to surprise Count Kazar a little more.

‘It’d be too boring if I just stopped at copying.’

After finishing one demonstration of the Mud Sword Style, Chris moved again.

When Count Kazar saw this new variation, his eyes widened even further, almost tearing open in disbelief.

‘Different? But how?’

Chris’s first move had been the first form—an attack aimed at controlling the opponent’s lower body by targeting their feet.

But this time, it was slightly different.

Just barely.

So subtle that anyone not well-versed in the Mud Sword Style wouldn’t even notice.

The sword’s path was the same.

But the stance of the legs.

The twist of the torso.

Because of that, the sword’s movement became lighter and faster.

Exactly what the Mud Sword Style’s core principle of controlling the opponent demanded.

A faint difference, but one that would make a huge impact in actual combat.

And it wasn’t just the “cutting through the mud” move.

Forms two and three, too.

Chris introduced small changes.

All within the framework of the Mud Sword Style, making it more efficient.

“…”

Finally, the demonstration ended.

Count Kazar was left speechless, his face blank.

“Well? What do you think?”

“You… you…”

Seeing the count’s stunned expression, Chris grinned.

“Please inform your family. I will attend the Second Star Ceremony in two months.”

His voice was annoyingly calm.

“Two months is more than enough time for me to reach the rank of Second Star.”

In truth, he didn’t even need that long.

For reference, when Chris was with the Light faction in the past, it took him only a month and a half to reach Second Star.