Episode 93
From the very beginning, dark magic often involved manipulating the dead.
The most well-known example was necromancy.
Besides that, there was also a type of dark magic that Chris frequently used—curse magic—that dealt with life forces.
“The problem is, none of those types are usable right now. Wait, no. Think about it. There has to be some kind I can use.”
Chris quickly ran through every kind of dark magic he could wield.
But there was nothing.
None of the dark magics at his disposal could help in this situation.
Then, a sudden voice flashed through his mind.
“If he dies, I’ll resurrect him as a lesser being and send him to Idrene as a plaything.”
It was Simon’s voice, completely unrelated to the current moment.
But Chris caught a clue.
“There’s a way! I can use blood magic to make Evan my slave!”
Among blood magic techniques, there was one that could turn a dead opponent into a personal slave.
Simon had called it the “Mark of Inferior Blood.”
Slaves created this way were called lesser beings, utterly obedient to their master without any will of their own.
“Of course, I can’t make Evan a mindless slave, but that’s fine. I can modify the ritual.”
A lesser being’s ability to move even after death came from receiving the master’s life force.
So Chris planned to extract just the parts of the ritual that “enslave the target” and “transfer life force” to use on Evan.
“Luckily, I’ve seen the Mark of Blood once before.”
Simon had demonstrated it as a sample.
The Mark of Blood was a fundamental technique in blood magic, so it was the first thing Simon taught him as background knowledge.
But that was all it was—just a single glance.
Chris had never properly practiced it.
In fact, he had only briefly learned blood magic on the way back from the underground garden.
Still, to not only use the Mark of Blood but to improve it—that was insane.
“It’s okay. I can do this.”
Whether it worked or not, he had to pull it off.
A surge of magical energy boiled up inside Chris.
In his mind’s eye, the ritual Simon had shown him unfolded in rapid detail.
His mind tore apart the structure of the ritual in an instant.
He divided, analyzed, cut, and recombined it.
It wasn’t easy.
The ritual was a sum of countless possibilities.
Extracting only the necessary parts meant perfectly analyzing every possible case to create a new synthesis.
No one but a master in the field could even attempt it.
But Chris could.
Because it was Chris.
“If I have to calculate countless possibilities, the solution is simple. I just have to calculate every single one.”
In a split second, countless calculations ran through his mind.
Thousands, tens of thousands, no—more than that.
An uncountable number of cases were computed in his head.
All in the blink of an eye.
Chris’s secret to instantly analyzing rituals without being an expert in the field.
“Got it!”
He quickly let the blood dripping from his hand fall into Evan’s mouth.
Reflexively, Evan swallowed.
At the same moment, Chris activated the ritual.
The Mark of Inferior Blood.
No, this was a new blood magic technique Chris had invented.
A blazing imprint was etched onto Evan’s heart, binding his life at the brink of death and turning him into Chris’s slave.
Evan’s consent wasn’t needed.
The Mark of Inferior Blood was never a ritual requiring the target’s agreement.
“The ritual worked perfectly.”
Chris exhaled deeply and began sharing his life force through the mark on Evan’s heart.
A low hum filled the air.
Evan’s complexion stabilized dramatically after receiving Chris’s life force.
He had passed the critical point!
“Thank goodness. Somehow, I ended up making Evan a slave… but since my blood magic is weak, the mark will naturally fade over time…”
Of course, Chris had no intention of truly enslaving Evan.
His blood magic was too feeble to maintain the mark for long.
This was only a temporary contract.
“Hm? Wait, what’s going on?”
Chris paused.
“Why is the mark so strong?”
He blinked.
Normally, the mark should have been faint, barely visible even on close inspection.
That was the limit of Chris’s blood magic.
But the mark on Evan’s heart was anything but faint—it was intense, almost like a permanent imprint.
“Why? Could it be…?”
Chris’s eyes widened as he guessed the reasons.
First, the type of magic energy.
His magic was pure dark energy—100% pure.
So, ironically, he was better suited for blood magic than vampires, whose blood magic was less pure.
Even with his clumsy skill, the effect was far stronger than expected.
Second—and more importantly—his soul’s rank.
“I’m a half-demon rank. That means my ability to subjugate others is much stronger.”
Vampires can make humans their thralls because their soul rank is slightly higher than humans’.
But Chris’s soul rank as a half-demon was incomparably higher than any vampire.
Therefore, regardless of the ritual’s roughness, a perfect, permanent mark was etched, completely subjugating the target.
“What do I do now?”
Chris swallowed hard.
Turning a hero into a slave was an unexpected accident.
“Ugh! What’s wrong with me today?!”
He tore at his hair in frustration, but there was no other way.
“I’ll find a way to break the mark later. For now, I have to save him.”
Though he had barely kept Evan alive, it was only by a thread.
Proper treatment was still needed, and above all—
“I have to get him out of the Dark Maga’s territory alive. But how?”
The difficulty was immense.
Evan was a shadow figure from a famous swordsmanship family, so the Dark Maga’s demons wouldn’t hesitate to torture or kill him.
After torture, the only choices left would be hanging, beheading, or burning at the stake.
“I can’t just take him and run either.”
No matter how Chris thought about it, there was no solution.
He was trapped in a desperate situation.
Then, a signal came from the crystal orb at his waist.
It was Myzak, coming toward Chris’s location.
“I can’t fight Myzak with Evan in this state.”
He had no choice but to postpone dealing with Myzak.
“There’ll be plenty of chances to take care of him later.”
Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck Chris.
“Wait. If I use Myzak, maybe I can get Evan out.”
There was one way to smuggle Evan out.
At the cost of Myzak’s life.
“It won’t be easy, but I have to do it.”
Chris fired a signal flare into the air.
First, he would take Evan back to the Dark Maga territory—for proper treatment before attempting an escape.
There was a limit to how long he could keep Evan alive just by sharing life force.
“The problem is, if I bring Evan into the Dark Maga, there’ll be countless demons eager to torture him before any treatment.”
The more he thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.
Chris glared at the collapsed Evan in frustration.
“Why the hell did you have to crawl into the Dark Maga’s territory? When you wake up, I’m going to give you a good hit.”
And so, the unintended mission to save the hero began.
Chris returned to the Dark Maga without clashing with Myzak’s Shadow Guard.
He carried Evan over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Once again, Lord Christian has made a name for himself.”
“Impressive. The Shadow Guard intervened, yet he scored first.”
“But why bring back a shadow alive?”
“To torture him, no doubt. A shadow from the swordsmanship family must know many secrets.”
“Heh, this will be interesting. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an allied noble executed.”
Chris swallowed hard under the hungry gazes of the demons.
They looked like hyenas eyeing a wounded deer.
“The Dark Maga already hates the swordsmanship family.”
The fiercest among them was undoubtedly Nogazu Nordian.
Nordian despised the swordsmanship family to the point of hatred.
At one time, he had even ordered that any member of the swordsmanship family be killed on sight.
Evan’s chances of surviving the Dark Maga were practically zero.
“But I have to make it happen.”
There was only one way.
Boom.
Chris threw Evan onto the main hall’s plaza.
Deliberately rough, for all to see.
Like handling a worthless insect.
He saw Evan flinch in pain, but there was no choice.
“I’m doing this to save you. Please understand.”
“Report to the Lord. Contact the head of the family.”
“Yes, but Lord Christian, you mean the family head, not Marquis Langham?”
“Yes.”
Everyone looked puzzled.
They knew the head of the family never involved himself in such matters.
“This one is a very important prize. The family head will be pleased.”
Chris lifted the corner of his mouth.
“This is Evan. The former head of the swordsmanship family’s son—the heir to the title of Sword Emperor, the strongest swordsman in the alliance.”
Sword Emperor.
A 9-star superhuman and the strongest in the alliance.
Past tense, because he was dead.
“He died too soon.”
Evan passed away before he could fully grow, and that was the start of his tragedy.
It would have been fine if Evan wasn’t the legitimate heir to the family headship.
But Evan was the direct successor chosen by the previous head, making him a thorn in the side of the family’s assassins.
In the end, because of the scheming of the family elders, Evan was forced to bear the weight of a grave crime and was reduced to living in the shadows.
“Looking back, it’s just ridiculous. The son of the giant who held the alliance together, brought low to such a miserable fate all because of greed for power.”
Chris let out a bitter laugh.
“Well, I can’t say I’m innocent either. In my past life, my mother and I were also falsely branded as demons’ pawns. All because of that man we called father.”
These were clear signs of just how rotten the alliance had become.
Anyway, the ‘Swordmaster’ had ties even with the dark mages.
More precisely, with the Lord of Noga, Nordian.
In the past, Lord Nordian had been defeated by the Swordmaster.
The problem was that he had suffered a great humiliation in the process.
The Swordmaster didn’t consider mages as equals, and he had subjected the defeated Nordian to severe insults.
“Because of that, just hearing the name of the Swordmaster’s family makes Lord Nordian grind his teeth.”
But now that the Swordmaster’s son had been brought back as a trophy, how would Lord Nordian react?
Would he at least show some respect for the son of his rival?
Not a chance.
Nordian said coldly, “Cut off his head immediately. Dismember him and send the parts to the Swordmaster’s family. Bury him next to the Swordmaster’s grave. Imagine how pleased the Swordmaster will be, seeing his son’s limbs and head brought to him from the afterlife.”
“……”