Episode 27: The Impostor (2)
In the past, there was a master swordsman named Geomakga whom Damian had once faced in battle.
Compared to other masters, he wasn’t particularly exceptional.
If ranked, he would be among the lower tier of masters.
Yet, Geomakga left a lasting impression on Damian.
“He was a master who truly shone in large-scale battles.”
The sound produced by a vibrating sword is called Geommyung.
Geomakga had a unique technique of infusing his aura into this Geommyung and spreading it.
Every time the Geommyung resonated, bodies exploded, and objects were destroyed.
“Thanks to that technique, he managed to hold back the undead army for a whole week.”
The tens of thousands of undead sent by Dorgo couldn’t break through Geomakga’s Geommyung and were forced to halt.
This was a feat no other master had achieved.
In the end, Dorgo had no choice but to send Damian. After an hour-long duel, Damian emerged victorious.
“Quite an unusual sword, isn’t it?”
Brody had approached without Damian noticing and spoke up.
“It was commissioned by a knight once employed by a duke’s family. But before the sword was completed, the knight had to leave due to urgent matters, so it never reached its intended owner.”
“Did that knight happen to request it be made with Hyanggong Iron?”
“What? How did you know?”
Rare metals are known for their unique properties.
Adamant, which amplifies magic, and Bingbaek Iron, which emits cold on its own, are examples.
Weapons known as divine arms in this world are all crafted from rare metals.
“So it really was Geomakga’s secret weapon.”
Hyanggong Iron, as a rare metal, had the property of creating waves when infused with magic.
This peculiar property interfered with the formation of aura, which is why knights avoided using Hyanggong Iron for their weapons.
Except for one, Geomakga.
“But the weapon Geomakga used when he fought me wasn’t this one.”
The beloved sword Geomakga wielded back then was crafted by dwarves.
It contained a much higher concentration of Hyanggong Iron and was mixed with other rare metals.
“He never came back for it and ended up making another weapon, it seems.”
Geomakga could use his techniques even with an ordinary sword.
However, when he wielded a weapon made of Hyanggong Iron, the power of his techniques was doubled.
“Did Geomakga pass through the duke’s family?”
Damian didn’t know much about Geomakga.
All he knew was that Geomakga had lived his life as a wandering knight.
“I’ll take this sword.”
Without hesitation, Damian picked up the sword.
Brody was taken aback and tried to dissuade him.
“Are you sure you want that sword, knowing what Hyanggong Iron is?”
“Yes, this is the one I want.”
Damian could also use Geomakga’s techniques and reach his level. He knew them well.
Geomakga might have been one of the weaker masters, but his techniques were different.
They were not only effective against multiple enemies but also allowed for simultaneous offense and defense.
The versatility was something Damian was eager to study.
“Does this sword have a name?”
“The knight who commissioned it called it the Cheonri Sword.”
Damian committed the name to memory and took the Cheonri Sword with him.
In addition to the Cheonri Sword, Damian Haxen also picked up a few daggers and throwing knives for easy concealment.
After selecting his weapons, he was about to leave the workshop when a woman blocked his path.
She wasn’t alone. Two men who looked like warriors accompanied her.
“Did you find a weapon to your liking?”
The woman asked with a bright smile. Damian Haxen tilted his head slightly as he looked at her.
She had dark shadows under her eyes, giving her a somewhat gloomy appearance.
“And who might you be?”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Rebecca, serving Lady Chelsea Goldpixie.”
The woman placed a hand on her chest and bowed gracefully.
“Lady Goldpixie wishes to meet with you, Sir Damian Haxen. Would you be willing to spare some time?”
Damian had been planning to meet Chelsea Goldpixie to investigate her possible ties to dark magic.
He hadn’t expected the opportunity to come so soon.
“I don’t think I have anything to discuss with her.”
But Damian didn’t accept the invitation right away. He wanted to gauge their intentions by refusing once.
“You never know.”
Rebecca continued to smile as she spoke.
“Lady Goldpixie has much to offer. If you engage in a meaningful conversation, you might find something you need, Sir Damian Haxen.”
Though she was speaking in circles, it was clear she was trying to entice him.
To think they would so boldly attempt to sway a knight aligned with the duke.
Damian, filled with curiosity, replied.
“Alright. Lead the way.”
Rebecca led Damian Haxen to a quiet restaurant.
It wasn’t a large establishment, just a single-story building.
“This is a restaurant personally run by Lady Chelsea. It’s reservation-only and exclusively for nobles.”
Rebecca explained as they walked down the restaurant’s hallway.
“Today, the entire restaurant has been reserved for your meeting with Sir Damian Haxen.”
Rebecca stopped walking.
In the large hall, there was only one dining table, and a familiar face was seated there.
Chelsea Goldpixie.
She raised a wine glass and spoke.
“You’re a bit late. Come, have a seat.”
Rebecca didn’t enter further. Damian walked into the hall alone.
And the moment he stepped inside, Damian could feel it.
The dark magic that filled the entire hall.
“So, I came to investigate Chelsea Goldpixie.”
He had already found evidence without needing to look further.
As Damian walked to the table, he analyzed the dark magic.
“With every breath, dark magic seeps in. It’s affecting me through my breathing.”
Thanks to his memories and experiences as a Death Knight, Damian was well-versed in dark magic.
“It’s a bewitching scent.”
It was a dark magic that induced false affection, allowing the caster to manipulate others at will.
“At this concentration, one would become a slave within an hour.”
With each breath, dark magic entered his body. The concentration was incredibly dense.
“To use such advanced dark magic like a bewitching scent and conceal it, there must be a highly skilled dark magician involved.”
The reason this level of dark magic could be used in the middle of the city without detection was due to the concealment magic enveloping the entire restaurant.
It seemed the dark magician behind Chelsea Goldpixie was no ordinary person.
Most knights would have succumbed to this bewitching scent.
But Damian was an exception. He possessed the seven powers Dorgo had engraved in his past life.
Thus, most magic and dark magic had no effect on Damian.
“The power of Greed should dismantle it without issue.”
Damian used the power of Greed to dismantle the dark magic he inhaled.
The dark energy obtained from dismantling the magic was stored somewhere within his body.
“Why did you call me here?”
Damian asked as he sat across from Chelsea. She set down her wine and replied.
“You’re quite impatient. How about we talk over a meal once the food arrives?”
To Damian, who had already sensed the dark magic, her words seemed like nothing more than a pointless charade.
“I don’t want to waste time. Just tell me now.”
Chelsea’s eyebrow twitched slightly at Damian’s refusal.
“If you insist, I have no choice. I have just one request: step down from the representative position.”
Chelsea’s demand didn’t surprise Damian. He had already anticipated what she would ask.
“You don’t trust Guillaume Blackwing, do you?”
“Don’t be mistaken. If Guillaume Blackwing picks up his axe, someone like you is nothing.”
Chelsea Goldpixie stated bluntly, her voice filled with conviction.
“I just want to conserve my strength for the duel with the marquis. It would be troublesome if I got injured in a pointless duel, wouldn’t it?”
It was a reasonable judgment.
Unless one side was overwhelmingly superior, blood was bound to be shed in a duel.
“Why should I grant your request? What’s in it for me?”
“If you step down from the representative position, I’ll grant you whatever you desire.”
Damian let out a dry laugh at her response.
“And how do you know what I want?”
“A country knight like you? It’s obvious. Money, fame, isn’t it?”
Chelsea smirked, raising one corner of her mouth.
Through this conversation, Damian could roughly gauge what kind of person Chelsea Goldpixie was.
“She’s insufferably arrogant.”
She judged others at will and drew conclusions carelessly.
Such actions were only possible for someone arrogant.
“In a way, she’s just like her father.”
The duke had a nasty habit of testing others.
It was an action only someone who believed themselves superior to others would take.
However, unlike Chelsea Goldpixie, the duke didn’t overtly display his arrogance.
“Arrogant and incompetent.”
That was Damian’s conclusion about Chelsea Goldpixie.
“Money and fame, you say? The duke seems more likely to provide those.”
“That may seem true for now. But think about it. The duke’s estate will soon be mine. Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to be in the good graces of the future duke?”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree. The duke is still in good health.”
“No one knows what the future holds. Who’s to say someone more capable than your father won’t come along and take his place?”
It was a dangerously bold statement.
Damian narrowed his eyes, fixing his gaze on Chelsea Goldpixie.
Suddenly, he noticed a small hourglass sitting in front of her.
‘Is it there to measure the time the enchantment’s influence lasts?’
There wasn’t much sand left. Chelsea glanced at the hourglass before turning to Damian.
“If you understand, go tell your father. Tell him you’re stepping down as the representative.”
Her tone was commanding, filled with the certainty that Damian Haxen would comply without question.
Damian responded immediately, “And if I refuse?”
Chelsea Goldpixie’s expression crumbled.
“W-what? This can’t be happening.”
Chelsea stammered, clearly flustered. Damian leaned back in his chair, asking, “What can’t be happening?”
“No, it’s just… why would you refuse? I told you, I can give you everything you want!”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve sworn loyalty to my father? You’re making a mistake. Do you know how cruel he is? He and my mother—”
Damian raised a hand to cut her off. “I have no interest in your family drama, so spare me.”
All Damian cared about was using the duke’s family to keep the marquis in check. He had no interest in the duke himself.
“Just listen! Once you hear, you’ll understand how untrustworthy he is…”
“What I want is something you can’t give me.”
“What is it? What do you want?”
“Family happiness.”
Chelsea Goldpixie looked at him, bewildered. “W-what?”
“Family happiness, peace, well-being—all things you can’t provide.”
To protect his family, he needed to keep the marquis in check. And for that, Damian Haxen had to enter the duel and defeat Michael Ryanbloom.
But even without that reason, Damian had no intention of complying with Chelsea Goldpixie’s demands. Not after she had allied with such a despicable dark sorcerer.
“I’ll be going now. Tell Guillaume Blackwing to prepare well for the duel.”
Damian stood up, ready to leave the hall.
“Your family must mean a lot to you, huh?”
Chelsea’s words made Damian pause.
“Then let me put it another way. Step down as the representative, or I’ll send people to crush the Haxen family…”
Chelsea couldn’t finish her sentence.
Damian’s hand shot out, gripping her throat.
“How dare you lay a hand on me…!”
He tightened his grip, the pressure around her neck feeling like iron.
Chelsea gasped for air, struggling to breathe.
Damian watched her dispassionately, as if observing a dying creature.
At that moment—
“Lady Chelsea!”
“How dare you lay a hand on the lady!”
Two knights stationed at the entrance rushed toward Damian.
Even as the knights charged, Damian Haxen’s gaze remained fixed on Chelsea Goldpixie.
“Release her at once!”
The knights reached for their swords, ready to strike.
Damian let go of Chelsea’s neck and grabbed a utensil from the table.
He swung it at the knights, the dull knife grazing their necks.
Blood spurted from their wounds, and they staggered, clutching their throats.
“I cut shallowly. Apply a potion immediately, and you won’t die.”
With that, Damian turned back to Chelsea Goldpixie.
She was on the floor, gasping for breath.
“Chelsea Goldpixie.”
Startled, she looked up at Damian, her body trembling under his cold gaze.
“The reason I didn’t kill you here isn’t because I’m afraid of the duke’s retaliation.”
Moments ago, Damian had wrestled with countless inner conflicts.
Part of him wanted to end her life right there.
But he realized that would be too merciful a punishment.
“Look forward to it. Tomorrow, you’ll find out what true horror is.”
With those words, Damian walked out of the dining room.