Episode 42
“No, no, no!”
“Ahhh! S-save me!!”
Two figures plummeted into the endless darkness below.
They probably weren’t actually dead, but they were definitely out of the race.
“This won’t do. We need to hurry. Since we’re already behind, I’ll increase the pace a bit more,” the halfling butler said with a sly tone.
The speed picked up even further.
The remaining participants’ faces turned pale.
Eventually, one more person couldn’t keep up and dropped out.
Now, only five remained.
Aside from Chris, the one in the best shape was naturally Roin.
He was only breathing a little heavier than usual.
It was as if to prove the saying that direct lineage and collateral branches are on different levels.
Countless elixirs taken since childhood.
Physical conditioning.
Blessings of dark magic.
Unique martial arts passed down through the direct bloodline.
Even though they all held the same rank of two stars, the gap between direct descendants and collateral branches was vast.
Roin leisurely wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned his gaze toward Chris.
He had planned to sneer at Chris’s struggle, but—
“!!”
Roin’s eyes widened.
Chris showed no sign of fatigue at all.
His breathing was calm, and not a single drop of sweat glistened on his brow.
“How is this possible?”
Roin wasn’t the only one stunned.
The other participants stared at Chris in disbelief.
Roin growled, unable to accept it.
“What kind of trickery are you using?”
“Trickery?”
“Yeah, if it’s not cheating, there’s no way you’d be this fine! Did you use some magical artifact to boost your stamina?”
“Trickery?”
Chris chuckled softly.
“Do you really think you need a magical tool just to run this much? Anyone who trains their body regularly could handle this easily.”
“!!”
“If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to say a word. Oh, wait, I guess you don’t have that kind of shame.”
Roin’s face flushed red.
But he couldn’t retort.
In truth, Chris wasn’t using any magical artifacts.
He was enduring this hellish race purely on his own strength.
“This is impossible. How could that reckless bastard—”
Everyone looked at Chris with distrust.
But what was happening right before their eyes was undeniable.
Roin ground his teeth in frustration.
His pride was wounded.
Meanwhile, Chris smirked inwardly at the reactions of his competitors.
“Fools. If your head’s slow, your body has to suffer.”
There was a secret behind Chris’s seemingly impossible endurance.
No matter how talented he was, it was impossible not to tire in such a grueling race.
He wasn’t cheating with magical tools.
Instead, Chris had used a different trick.
“I just twisted the illusion.”
This wasn’t the real world.
Everything here was a virtual space created by illusion magic.
So?
If he interfered with the illusion and altered the rules of this virtual world—
“It’s still difficult for me to make major changes at my level.”
But he didn’t need to make a big twist.
Chris altered just one rule.
[No matter how hard I push myself, my stamina will not decrease.]
That was the rule Chris had twisted.
Impossible in reality.
But possible in this illusory world.
“Changing a rule that applies only to myself isn’t hard. No one’s stopping me anyway. Honestly, these idiots—why bother suffering physically when they know it’s all an illusion?”
Chris sneered as he looked at the pale, sweating competitors.
But this was a misconception on Chris’s part.
This was only possible because it was Chris.
Usually, only illusionists trained in the craft or someone like Chris could pull this off.
The halfling butler, who knew this better than anyone, looked at Chris with astonishment.
“…Is this really Master Christian? As Head Butler Simon said, he truly is remarkable.”
But Sebatchan glanced away.
Roin was glaring at Christian with a flushed, furious face.
“Let’s see if he survives the Holy Black Ceremony.”
He was a butler.
He vaguely knew what preparations Roin had made to target Christian during the ceremony.
Normally, such actions would be absolutely forbidden.
But who could stop him?
In this Dark Maga, the authority of the main family’s legitimate bloodline was unchallengeable.
“No matter how gifted a genius is, he’s only rank two. He won’t withstand the tricks Lord Roin has prepared. I just hope he doesn’t get seriously hurt.”
At that moment, the path finally ended.
A space of darkness as deep as an abyss appeared.
The sacred ground of Dark Maga.
The place where the Holy Black Ceremony would be held.
The sacred ground was a strange place.
Though they stood on it, the ground itself was invisible.
Only darkness existed.
A faint light, like starlight, illuminated the world.
“Greetings, young masters. I am Rihyu, the administrator of this sacred ground.”
A ghostly figure floated out of the darkness.
A banshee, like Mari.
“As you all know, this place is the Shadow Dimension.”
The Shadow Dimension.
It wasn’t another world like Gehenna or the Celestial Realm.
It was a backworld, a shadow of the intermediate plane.
A place where the purest darkness surged.
“The Shadow Dimension is the backside of the world, so it’s not normally a space allowed to beings of the intermediate plane. But this place is different. It is where the purest darkness of the Shadow Dimension bursts forth, and whenever this darkness erupts, a passage connecting to the intermediate plane opens.”
That was why the Holy Black Ceremony was held every two to three years.
The pure darkness of the Shadow Dimension erupted on a two-to-three-year cycle, and the ceremony was timed accordingly.
“The pure darkness of the Shadow Dimension is also called Dark Magi. The founder of Dark Maga was the first to accept this Dark Magi and established the Dark Maga family. He eventually became the third-ranked Demon Lord.”
Dark Maga was a family that specialized in this pure darkness of the Shadow Dimension, the Dark Magi.
Because it originated from the Shadow Dimension, the Dark Magi was on a different level from other types of magi.
It was the highest-grade magi, superior to all others.
So pure it was sometimes called the Sacred Black.
This was the power Chris was to obtain today.
“Today, young masters, you will receive that great darkness. But there is something you must remember.”
The banshee’s voice grew ominous.
“The distribution of the Sacred Black is not fair. The amount of Sacred Black released is insufficient for all of you to share.”
That was why the Holy Black Ceremony was a brutal competition.
The Sacred Black that erupted every two to three years was always in short supply.
Meanwhile, many bloodlines needed it.
So the ancestors of Dark Maga established rules.
The strong and outstanding would claim more of the Sacred Black.
“Now, each of you will proceed along your assigned path to obtain the Sacred Black. All paths are equal in distance and trials. The faster you overcome the trials and reach the sacred ground, the more Sacred Black you will receive.”
In other words, it was a race.
The quicker you cleared the trials and arrived at the sacred ground, the longer you could absorb the Sacred Black.
Naturally, the superior would gain more.
Conversely, those who fell behind would receive only a meager amount.
If the others absorbed all the Sacred Black, some might get none at all.
“Christian, not a single grain of Sacred Black will come your way.”
Roin glared at Christian with a menacing look.
He had already made all his preparations.
The path Christian would take would hold even harsher trials, and he would fall behind.
And a Dark Maga bloodline that failed to obtain even a drop of Sacred Black in the ceremony would lose the right to use Baron’s Castle.
Sacred Black was practically the symbol of Dark Maga.
It was like being erased from the family records.
“You trash like you will no longer be allowed to sully the name of Dark Maga. Prepare yourself.”
Roin smiled grimly, pleased at what awaited Christian.
But Christian said something unexpected.
“I have one question. If an unforeseen accident happens during the Holy Black Ceremony, what happens? Is it an automatic disqualification?”
“An accident…?”
“Like, if I end up clashing with another competitor unexpectedly.”
The banshee tilted her head.
“Each path leads in a different direction, so you won’t encounter other competitors. Even if such a thing happens, it’s best to avoid conflict. Fighting only benefits the other competitors.”
The Holy Black Ceremony was a competition to see who reached the Sacred Black first.
Fighting would only slow you down and give your rivals an advantage.
So conflicts between competitors rarely happened during the ceremony.
“So, it’s not a reason for disqualification?”
“…There is no such rule.”
The banshee looked at Chris with a puzzled expression.
The other challengers also looked confused.
Only Alos took a deep breath.
“No way that madman would… No, no matter how crazy he is, he wouldn’t do something like that during the Holy Black Ceremony…”
Alos tried to calm his uneasy heart.
“It’s better to look out for your own safety. Once the trial begins, no one will help you. You could… lose your life.”
The banshee floated up again.
“Then… let us begin.”
A brilliant light flared.
A magic circle appeared in the darkness.
From beneath each participant’s feet, a black line stretched out in a different direction.
“Follow the line. Though the directions differ, you will all face the same distance and trials and arrive at the same destination.”
The banshee glanced beyond the unseen darkness.
[For your reference, the outcome of this Seongheuk Ceremony will determine the future of the young masters. Everyone, please give it your all. Wishing you the best of luck.]
And so, the Seongheuk Ceremony began.
Roin moved forward with ease.
Beasts and spirits from the shadow dimension lunged at him, but they quickly turned to ash and scattered into nothingness.
‘These pathetic things.’
All the beasts that appeared were only rank 1 or rank 2.
By contrast, Roin had already reached the upper tier of the second star.
With about a year more of training, he might even step into the third star realm. Against such weak beasts, this was child’s play.
‘That Christian guy must be having a really tough time.’
Roin smiled leisurely.
Originally, each challenger’s path was supposed to be the same length and difficulty.
But rules always crumble in the face of overwhelming power.
Roin had already persuaded the sorcerer who prepared the trials for Christian’s path.
Of course, the types and numbers of beasts couldn’t be changed—that would be too obvious.
Instead, the same beasts were secretly empowered to be much stronger. That kind of trick was well within the sorcerer’s capabilities.
The beasts Christian faced would exert at least the strength of rank 2 or higher.
‘There’s no way he can hold out.’