Episode 259: The Retrieval (1)
“You’re here to kill the Weapon Master?”
Kilo’s voice trembled with disbelief, his eyes wide with skepticism.
“That’s absurd! Do you have any idea what kind of monster the Weapon Master is? He’s one of the titans of Pandemonium, a pillar of power. And you think you can kill him?”
“Yeah, he’s a bit of a headache,” Damian replied nonchalantly, his dismissive tone leaving Kilo gaping in shock.
“Even if you had the power to do it, we have no intention of helping you!” Kilo declared firmly. “After you kill the Weapon Master, what’s next? You plan to rule over us, don’t you?”
Damian sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation. Nothing ever came easy.
“You seem to think quite highly of yourselves,” he remarked, not bothering to persuade the dwarves. It wasn’t the right atmosphere for it, and besides, Damian was currently playing the role of the ‘notorious dark sorcerer Victor.’
“I have no interest in stinking dwarves like you. My only concern is the Weapon Master,” he taunted, looking down on them.
“What did you say?” Kilo stammered.
“You’re deluding yourselves, and it’s making me sick,” Damian said with disdain. “You said you won’t cooperate? Think carefully before you answer again. I’ll make you cooperate, one way or another.”
Undead creatures surrounded the dwarves, their menacing presence causing Kilo and his companions to swallow hard.
“Decide now. Will you cooperate willingly, or do I have to force you?”
“That’s the emergency storage,” Kilo said, leading Damian deep into the valley with the other dwarves.
Pushing through the trees and bushes, they came upon a square building, hidden from sight without the dwarves’ guidance.
“It’s where we store metals for rebuilding in case of a disaster in the city,” Kilo explained.
“What about defenses?” Damian asked.
“There aren’t any. But it’s built so solidly that once the door is locked, no one can get in.”
The building’s unassuming appearance was deceptive. As Damian inspected the storage, Kilo asked hesitantly, “Was what you said to us true?”
“Hmm? Oh, you mean about not being interested in you? Don’t worry. Once the Weapon Master is dead, you’re on your own,” Damian replied, his tone irritatingly casual, yet somehow reassuring to the dwarves.
“What’s that?” Damian’s attention was caught by something.
The storage door swung open, and dark knights poured out, followed by dwarves bound in chains, their bodies covered in wounds.
“Those are…!” Kilo gasped, recognizing them immediately.
“Do you know them?” Damian asked.
“They’re survivors from the city. They went missing after a recent attack on our hideout. I never imagined they’d been captured,” Kilo murmured, devastated.
The dark knights drove stakes into the ground, securing the chains that bound the dwarves. The captives watched in terror.
“Hello there,” one of the dark knights, a woman, addressed the dwarves. Her voice was melodious, but it did nothing to ease their fear.
“Sorry to wake you up so suddenly. It’s just that dealing with things inside would be a hassle,” she said, clashing the daggers in her hands together.
A bizarre transformation occurred. Her hands fused with the dagger handles, and the blades grew, sprouting eyes and teeth.
-Screeeech!
The daggers, now beast-like, shrieked, causing the dwarves to scream in horror.
“Let’s start with you,” the woman said, swinging her dagger at the nearest dwarf.
With a sickening crunch, the dwarf’s leg was severed, and he collapsed to the ground.
“Honey!” “Father!” his family cried out, as the injured dwarf shouted, “Run! Don’t worry about me, just run—”
The woman swung again, this time decapitating him. Blood gushed from the wound, and she looked ecstatic.
“Ahh… Delcoy, I can feel your pleasure… Yes, it’s delicious. I’ll feed you more,” she murmured.
Kilo, witnessing the scene, shouted in horror, “What is that…?”
“They’re using dwarves as sacrifices for a cursed sword,” Damian explained.
“What?” Kilo asked, aghast.
“To wield a cursed sword, you need to keep feeding it. Otherwise, it devours its owner,” Damian continued as the woman’s gaze turned to the remaining dwarves.
“Monster! It’s a monster!” they screamed, trying to flee, but the chains held them back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the woman taunted, approaching with her arms outstretched.
“I guess I have to step in,” Damian said, rising to his feet. Kilo grabbed his arm.
“What are you planning to do?” Kilo asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? Kill them and reclaim the storage,” Damian replied.
“And you’re just going to charge in recklessly?” Kilo protested.
“Don’t you want to save your kin?” Damian retorted, causing Kilo to bite his lip in frustration.
“The one you killed earlier was nothing compared to this! We can’t just rush in—”
“Enough,” Damian interrupted, shaking off Kilo’s hand. “Stay here and watch.”
With that, Damian leaped forward, landing in front of the woman.
“Hmm?” she paused, intrigued by his sudden appearance.
“Who are you?” “What do you want?” the other dark knights demanded, ready to attack.
The woman raised her hand, silencing them. “A dark sorcerer? Never seen you before. Do you know this is the Weapon Master’s territory?”
“Of course,” Damian replied calmly, a glint of interest in the woman’s eyes.
“You came knowing that? You’re not here to pledge loyalty, are you? Don’t tell me you’re here for what I think you are,” she said, her smile not matching the murderous intent in her eyes.
“That’s exactly it,” Damian confirmed.
“Wow, you really are crazy. You think you can take on the Weapon Master?” she laughed, though her aura was anything but friendly.
“What’s your name, then?” she asked.
“I’m Victor, the Woodcutter,” Damian replied.
“Victor? Sounds familiar… but it doesn’t matter. I’m Cherrybell. Just so you know, I’m a Master Class,” she warned.
In combat, knights were generally superior to dark sorcerers. Even a Grand Dark Sorcerer was no match for a Master Class knight without special preparation or a unique vision.
Damian was no exception. Despite his vast knowledge, facing a Master Class with dark magic alone was a daunting task.
“How considerate of you,” Damian said, unfazed. But things were different now. He had awakened three powers.
He summoned his magic, which had nearly doubled in strength thanks to consuming a Dragon Heart. He infused it with the power of Envy, which allowed him to transform the nature of his magic freely.
He converted his magic into dark magic, the purest and most potent form. The transformed dark magic began to swirl around him, and he added another power: the power of Wrath, which amplified everything.
The dark magic intensified, becoming a storm that enveloped Damian. He constructed a spell, channeling all the dark magic into it.
“What is this?” Cherrybell’s face hardened, her instincts as a knight warning her of the impending danger.
“What kind of dark magic is this…?” she began, just as something started to seep from the ground.
Water? It didn’t look like water. The color was off, as if darkness itself had melted into it.
Black droplets seeped from the ground, rising into the air.
“What is this?”
“Raindrops?”
The subordinates stared at the droplets, their faces filled with curiosity.
Then, Demian clapped his hands together.
Suddenly, the droplets transformed into vapor, dispersing in all directions.
“Huh? What the—?”
“What just happened?”
In that instant, instinct screamed at Cherrybell. She shouted at her subordinates.
“You fools! Hold your breath! Get out of here, now—”
Before she could finish, Demian snapped his fingers.
In the next moment, spikes erupted from the bodies of the subordinates.
Spikes burst forth.
Chest, abdomen, sides, neck, head.
No part was spared. The spikes tore through their insides, piercing muscle and skin alike.
“Ugh!”
“Aaah!”
The subordinates collapsed, screaming. Thanks to the knights’ renowned resilience, none had died yet.
“Aaah! It hurts… I’m going insane…!”
“Someone… someone please kill me!”
The agony was unbearable, driving them to the brink of madness.
Myeonheuk.
An ancient dark magic, a secret kept by Dolgo.
Myeonheuk was a curse-based dark magic.
Contact with the black droplets accumulated a curse within the body. Once it reached a certain threshold, it activated.
It drained both physical and magical energy, transforming into spikes that burst outward.
“Still not enough.”
Demian looked at the dying dark knights and spoke.
The power was nowhere near what he wielded in his past life.
It was only natural. In his past life, Demian had possessed immense dark magic and had embedded countless rare magical artifacts into his body.
“You… you…”
One of the knights managed to rise.
Amazingly, Cherrybell was still alive. Not a single spike had pierced her body.
“What did you do to us… ugh!”
Instead, Cherrybell vomited black water.
The Myeonheuk had drained her strength and magic but failed to form spikes, expelling itself instead.
“Impressive. You live up to your Masterclass title.”
“How dare you… harm the subordinates entrusted to me by my master… I’ll kill you right now!”
Cherrybell lunged at Demian, brandishing a dagger.
Demian invoked the power of envy, instantly converting his magic into dark magic.
He pointed his index finger downward and murmured softly.
“Crush.”
In that moment, the sky turned black. It no longer radiated blue but was filled with utter darkness.
Chilheuk.
An ancient dark magic that flattened everything within its range.
The immense pressure bore down on Cherrybell, slowing her to a crawl.
“Another strange dark magic…!”
But she was a Masterclass. Chilheuk alone wasn’t enough to stop her.
So Demian unleashed the power of wrath.
The power of wrath amplified Chilheuk. Cherrybell couldn’t withstand the pressure and collapsed to the ground.
“Ugh… ngh…”
Cherrybell gritted her teeth, trying to rise. But she couldn’t move a single finger.
“A Masterclass who has exhausted all strength and magic is nothing to fear.”
As long as the cursed sword didn’t touch him, there was nothing to worry about.
“Come forth.”
Skeletons emerged from Demian’s shadow, surrounding Cherrybell.
Despair washed over her face. She cried out desperately.
“W-wait…!”
The skeletons drove their weapons into Cherrybell’s body.
Her scream, filled with pain, echoed long and loud.