Among the branches of dark magic, the School of Ten Thousand Poisons specialized in crafting and utilizing poisons.
As the saying goes, “The line between poison and medicine is paper-thin,” the School of Ten Thousand Poisons was also adept at creating elixirs.
The problem was that none of their concoctions were ever quite… normal.
Take, for instance, the Elixir of Emotion that Clea Fowler offered.
According to Clea, consuming the Elixir of Emotion would enhance one’s magical power and increase muscle mass. Even someone who had never exercised a day in their life could achieve a perfectly sculpted physique with just one dose.
But the real issue came afterward.
Those who consumed the elixir found their emotions heightened over trivial matters, as if their patience had vanished entirely.
And when those emotions crossed a certain threshold, a violent madness would take hold.
From that point on, they couldn’t suppress their emotions by sheer will. Even if their strength was depleted or their body was broken, they would continue until their life was extinguished.
The only way to stop the madness induced by the Elixir of Emotion was death.
“So, she plans to use me as a pawn to kill Athena,” Damien thought.
It was clear why Clea Fowler had given him this item. She hoped the madness would manifest during his battle with Athena.
“The Elixir of Emotion isn’t something you can just get your hands on,” Damien mused.
Not only did it require rare ingredients, but the process to create it was complex. Even the highest-ranking dark mages of the School of Ten Thousand Poisons had a low success rate.
The fact that Clea possessed such an item suggested she had close ties with dark mages.
“Thank you for the offer,” Damien said, pushing the elixir back toward Clea. “But I have no need for it.”
Clea’s expression hardened instantly at Damien’s refusal, her eyes trembling with an intensity that seemed excessive.
“Does she have a reason she must make me take this elixir?” Damien wondered.
Just then, Clea, having regained her composure, spoke again. “Are you perhaps doubting the efficacy of this elixir? Its effects are genuine. Someone of your caliber would surely notice.”
Indeed, Damien could sense the pure magic within the elixir. It was made with the same high-quality ingredients used in top-tier elixirs. But all of it was just a facade to mask the poison.
“I could absorb the magic separately if I wanted,” he thought. But he had no desire to consume the elixir.
He knew all too well the horrific processes involved in creating such dark magic elixirs.
“I can defeat Athena without the help of any elixirs,” Damien declared.
“Of course, I know that. But isn’t there always a ‘just in case’ in this world?” Clea pressed.
“Don’t worry. I will win without exception,” Damien replied firmly.
Clea looked at him, incredulous.
“Well, I’ll be going then,” Damien said, rising to leave.
Just as he was about to step out, someone entered the tent.
“Clea, I’ve come to visit~.”
A woman of stunning beauty appeared, so much so that the tent seemed to brighten with her presence. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Damien had ever seen.
But his surprise wasn’t due to her beauty.
“Why is the disciple of the Enchantress here?” he wondered.
Before him stood the disciple of one of the most notorious figures in Pandemonium.
Pandemonium was the largest and most powerful dark mage organization in history.
With its vast size and long history, it included many formidable dark mages, some of whom were particularly dangerous.
The Great Evils.
These were dark mages so perilous that they were the top targets for extermination by the Empire and the Church.
It was said that the number of people they had killed to reach their current status was in the hundreds of thousands.
The Enchantress, Sla, was one of these Great Evils.
A beauty who drove both men and women to madness.
Her allure was so potent that it could only be described as brainwashing.
“This woman’s name is… Rubia, if I recall correctly.”
Rubia was the Enchantress Sla’s disciple and a high-ranking dark mage in her own right. Though not as formidable as her master, Rubia was still a dangerous woman. It was no wonder Damien remembered her.
“I never expected to see her here,” he thought.
In his past life, the Enchantress Sla had never mentioned the Fafnir Mercenary Corps. Damien hadn’t anticipated encountering Rubia here.
“Oh my… there’s another gentleman here,” Rubia said, feigning surprise as she stepped back outside, peeking in to look at Damien.
“How repulsive,” Damien thought, watching her act. The Enchantress’s disciples were known for using their looks and bodies to sow chaos. It was all just an act.
As Damien looked at Rubia with disgust, Clea spoke up.
“Sir Damien, no matter how pretty Rubia is, you shouldn’t stare. She’s the one Cal favors the most.”
Hearing this, Damien sighed inwardly.
The Mercenary King was known for his weakness for women, so it was no surprise he couldn’t resist Rubia.
“He might already be her puppet,” Damien speculated, feeling a headache coming on.
“Rubia, could you please speak to Sir Damien? He refused the gift I prepared for him,” Clea said.
“Really?” Rubia replied, stepping back into the tent. She looked at the Elixir of Emotion on the table and then offered it to Damien.
“This is something Clea worked hard to prepare. Won’t you accept it?”
At that moment, a sweet scent filled the tent.
Everyone inside appeared dazed, even Clea Fowler.
The Enchantress’s disciples were trained in dark magic that emitted powerful pheromones. These pheromones ensnared anyone, regardless of gender, in their thrall.
But Damien was an exception.
Most dark magic had no effect on him, thanks to the powers he possessed.
In his past life, Dorgo had implanted seven powers within Damien. One of them, the Power of Gluttony, allowed him to dismantle other abilities and absorb their strength. Not even the Great Evils were immune.
“I don’t need it,” Damien said, tossing the pouch Rubia offered back onto the table.
Rubia’s eyes widened slightly, surprised that Damien wasn’t affected by the dark magic.
“I’ll be going now,” Damien said, nodding to Clea before stepping out of the tent.
Even as he left, he could feel their eyes on his back.
“They’re quite shocked,” he thought.
It was only natural. The pheromones that had even captivated the Mercenary King had no effect on him.
“If she’s a disciple of the Great Evil… she won’t be easy to deal with,” he mused.
He suspected Rubia wasn’t the only one present. Even as a disciple of the Enchantress, she couldn’t bring down the Fafnir Mercenary Corps alone.
“I’ll have to think this through,” he decided, heading back to his tent.
Evening came.
Damien stepped into the clearing for his duel with Athena Hopper.
“Wow! Damien! Damien Haxen is here!”
“Damien! Damien!”
The clearing was packed with people. It seemed every mercenary in the corps had gathered.
Damien made his way through the crowd, and the Mercenary King appeared before him.
“This is your last chance. Even now, if you—”
“Yes, yes. I’ll do my best,” Damien interrupted, brushing off the Mercenary King’s words as he stepped into the clearing.
Athena was already there, dressed simply and warming up.
“You’re a bit late,” she said, stretching her arms.
“That’s a deduction,” she added, without giving him a chance to ask what she meant.
She picked up the spear she had planted in the ground. It was entirely made of metal, from the shaft to the blade.
“Ah, I remember now,” Damien thought, recalling the past.
Even when she became the second Mercenary King in his previous life, she wielded that spear.
“It was made from a special alloy by the dwarves,” he remembered.
The Mercenary King had it crafted especially for Athena. With it, her abilities were amplified several times over.
It had taken Damien three days to subdue her.
“You filthy bastards,” she had spat, even when Damien had captured her and brought her before the dark mages.
“I should have killed more of you!”
“If it weren’t for that Death Knight, you’d all be dead by my hand!”
“You cowards, hiding behind others because you’re too weak!”
Even covered in wounds, Athena’s spirit never wavered.
At the time, the dark mage facing her was Rubia.
To break Athena’s spirit, Rubia had shown her something special.
The undead corpse of her father, Mercenary King Cal Hopper.
Seeing her father’s body, Athena had fallen silent, her face crumpling as if she might cry.
“You’re not… human,” she had whispered.
She hadn’t been allowed a peaceful death.
Rubia had subjected her to every indignity imaginable.
Her dignity as a woman was shattered, her humanity dragged through the mud.
Only after she had been reduced to less than trash did she finally die.
Even in death, she found no peace. Her spirit was ensnared by Rubia, used until it faded into nothingness.
”…”
Recalling the past made his stomach churn. Damian let out a deep sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Athena asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Damian shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“Really? Then shall we begin?”
Athena summoned her magic. The energy she gathered erupted outward, transforming into white lightning.
The white current enveloped her body, a sight both mesmerizing and terrifying.
The blood of a White Dragon coursed through the Mercenary King’s veins.
The power to summon storms and lightning was passed down to his descendants.
“Stay focused. Or you’ll lose points again.”
“What points are you even talking about…?”
Athena bent slightly, her body transforming into lightning.
The white current raced across the ground. In an instant, Athena appeared behind Damian.
Without hesitation, she struck with her spear. The lightning energy within the shaft exploded.
A bolt of lightning struck where Damian had been standing.
Before she struck, Athena couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“Can’t he even sense this?”
Even with Athena behind him, Damian Haxen continued to face forward.
“Was I mistaken after all?”
Her disappointment turned to a flicker of anger. Athena put all her strength into her spear strike.
At that moment, Damian turned, drawing his sword and swinging it upward.
The blade clashed with the spear shaft. In that instant, the spear’s trajectory shifted.
Simultaneously, the lightning veered away from Damian.
”…What?”
In her moment of surprise, Damian Haxen moved. He swung his sword, cutting at Athena’s exposed neck.