Episode 70: The Hunt (2)

As the unleashed dark energy spread throughout the cavern, the entire space became saturated with its ominous presence.

“A knight from the hunting party wielding dark magic?”

Even the puppet master couldn’t help but shudder.

Damian Haxen was no ordinary knight; he was a collaborator with the Order. And yet, here he was, wielding dark magic?

Moreover, the sheer volume of it was staggering—equivalent to the combined power of three high-ranking dark mages.

But what was truly astonishing wasn’t the amount of dark energy. It was Damian Haxen himself, who controlled it all.

Dark magic typically arises from negative forces like death and suffering. It’s notoriously difficult to manage, far more so than ordinary magic, as it can easily spiral out of control.

Yet Damian had complete mastery over this vast reservoir of dark energy.

“Who… what are you?”

For the first time, fear crept into the puppet master’s voice.

“My identity? Trash like you doesn’t need to know.”

Damian Haxen began to manipulate the dark energy.

The energy intertwined, forming intricate magical circles and spells.

“He can even perform dark magic…?”

Not only dark mages use dark energy. Demons, monsters, and, albeit rarely, some swordsmen do as well.

The puppet master had assumed Damian was a swordsman who used dark energy.

But that was a grave mistake. Damian Haxen was far beyond that. He was a dark mage in his own right.

He was simultaneously crafting spells and magical circles with dark energy.

This wasn’t the work of someone who had merely dabbled in dark magic.

“This is insane…”

A chill ran down the puppet master’s spine.

Even he couldn’t recognize the spells and circles Damian was preparing, but he instinctively knew they were dangerously potent.

“Stop him before he completes the dark magic!”

The “masterpieces” charged at Damian Haxen.

Typically, a mage is most vulnerable when preparing large-scale magic, as they can’t move while controlling the energy.

And dark mages are no exception. No matter how skilled a knight Damian Haxen was, he couldn’t possibly fight off the puppets while preparing dark magic.

…Or so the puppet master thought, until his assumption was shattered in the next moment.

Damian moved his left hand. The dark energy in the air coalesced, forming countless spears.

Creating spears was a simple dark magic. But the curses imbued in these spears were different.

Decay, corrosion, and collapse—three of the highest-level curses—were embedded in the spearheads. The air behind the spears began to compress.

In the blink of an eye, all this dark magic was completed.

“Multiple casting…?”

A feat even the highest-ranking dark mages struggle to achieve.

The moment the puppet master recognized it, the spears were launched.

Compressed air exploded, propelling the spears forward. They pierced through the “masterpieces.”

With a deafening crash, the puppets impaled by the spears were left in ruins, their bodies shattered beyond repair.

Even those that remained intact were quickly destroyed by the curses on the spearheads.

“Attack! Stop Damian Haxen now!”

The puppet master screamed in desperation. A dark mage puppet unleashed its newly completed dark magic.

The dark mage puppets were originally from the School of Ruin.

True to its name, the School of Ruin specialized in the most destructive dark magic.

The two dark mage puppets prepared one of their most powerful spells.

The Breath of the Demon.

A dark magic that pulverizes everything within a certain range.

As dark energy gathered in the air, it spun violently, forming a sphere. It was like a storm compressed into a ball.

The two dark mage puppets hurled the sphere at Damian Haxen.

Just as the sphere was about to collide with Damian, he raised his hand.

A glowing script appeared on the back of Damian’s hand. Instantly, the dark magic forming the sphere was dispelled, and the dark energy scattered in all directions.

It was proof that Damian Haxen had dominated and dismantled the dark energy coming at him.

”…”

The puppet master felt as if he were dreaming. Otherwise, such a thing couldn’t possibly happen.

Even if they had lost some finesse as puppets, those two were still high-ranking dark mages.

To dismantle a carefully prepared dark magic so easily? And to control the dark energy on top of that?

“This world never ceases to amaze.”

The puppet master felt grateful.

Grateful for his relentless pursuit of exceptional materials.

Grateful for honing his puppet-making skills.

And grateful for finally creating his masterpiece, Kite.

“Kite, it’s your turn. Finish him.”

The ceiling.

Somehow, Kite had moved there.

Kite kicked off the ceiling, descending vertically toward Damian Haxen, blades extending from his elbows.

Just as the lightning-fast strike was about to pierce Damian’s skull, Damian flicked his fingers. Shadows surged up, forming a massive shield.

The blades couldn’t penetrate the shield. Kite strained his arms, but it was futile.

In the next moment, the shield’s surface bubbled, and blades identical to Kite’s emerged.

The blades sliced through Kite’s body, sending him flying.

“A shadow shield?”

A dark magic that returns the attack it defends against.

So complex that even high-ranking dark mages require intense focus to perform it. Yet Damian Haxen had completed it in an instant.

“Impressive, but that level of dark magic won’t stop Kite.”

Kite, who had been flung away, rose as if nothing had happened. However, the metal plates protecting his torso fell away in pieces.

Damian conjured dark magic again. Countless black spears materialized in the air. The same combination magic that had destroyed the “masterpieces” was unleashed.

Dark energy began to gather in the blades protruding from Kite’s forearms.

The blades, absorbing the dark energy, glowed red-hot. As Kite swung them, invisible blades were released.

Multiple blades sliced through the black spears.

Aura.

A skill reserved for knights, yet the puppet Kite wielded it.

“How about that? This is my ‘masterpiece.’”

Even in the midst of battle, the puppet master felt a swell of pride.

A puppet capable of generating aura. Truly a feature worthy of a “masterpiece.”

“Kite, kill him.”

The moment the command was given, Kite charged at Damian Haxen.

“Support Kite!”

The puppet master ordered the dark mage puppets. They flew toward Damian Haxen.

The dark mage puppets attacked Damian Haxen with dark magic.

The dark spells of the School of Ruin rained down on Damian. But none of them reached him.

As soon as they got close, they were converted into dark energy and vanished.

However, it was enough to distract Damian. While the dark mages attacked, Kite closed in on Damian.

Kite assumed a stance and swung his blades. A massive aura flew toward Damian Haxen.

The puppet master was certain of victory. Aura was humanity’s most powerful weapon.

No monster’s body was tougher than aura. Not an ogre’s hide, nor a drake’s teeth could withstand it.

And dark magic was no exception.

No matter how strong a shield dark magic could create, it was nothing but paper before aura.

At that moment, the magical circle above Damian Haxen’s head was completed.

Damian’s shadow flared up like flames, spreading across the cave floor.

Chains erupted from the shadows, shattering the aura blades.

“What is that…!”

The puppet master gasped in shock as chains burst from beneath Kite’s feet.

They pierced through Kite’s entire body, anchoring him to the ceiling. The metal plates surrounding Kite’s body offered no resistance to the chains.

The dark mage puppets were also impaled by the chains.

“Ugh…!”

The puppet master was no exception. Chains that emerged from the ground pierced his abdomen, chest, and limbs.

“Move… move, damn it!”

The puppet master shouted at his puppets. Despite hearing their master’s command, they couldn’t move a finger.

The Black Bind.

An ancient dark magic left as a personal secret by Archlich Dorgo.

It summons chains that immobilize everything within range.

Those pierced by the chains can’t move and have all their powers, including magic and divine energy, sealed.

“Damian Haxen! Who are you? How do you know such dark magic?”

The puppet master shouted at Damian Haxen. Damian approached the puppet master.

As Damian Haxen drew closer, the puppet master’s face turned pale.

Utter terror spread across the puppet master’s features.

“Delant, the puppet master.”

Damian spoke. For a moment, the puppet master wondered if he had ever revealed his name.

“Where is Dorgo?”

But the question that followed made him forget all his doubts.

“How do you know his name?”

Akrich Dorgo.

To Yuran, who had been just another group of dark sorcerers, he was a savior who offered guidance and set goals.

Dorgo had hidden his identity meticulously. Only a select few dark sorcerers even knew of his existence.

A theory began to form in the mind of the Necromancer.

“Could it be… are you also one of his disciples?”

If Damian Haxen was a disciple, everything made sense. His swordsmanship, which was at a middle-class level, and his dark magic skills, which were top-tier or higher.

“Right, it’s not common to find a dark sorcerer of your caliber… But if you’re a disciple, why did you attack me?”

The Necromancer’s face twisted in confusion.

“I’m a disciple just like you! A comrade who vowed to usher in the age of dark sorcerers with Dorgo on the promised day…”

Damian flicked his fingers. Another chain shot out, piercing through the Necromancer’s body.

“Aaaargh!”

The Necromancer screamed, his head drooping as he gasped for breath, the pain unbearable.

“Just answer me. Where is Dorgo?”

“Heh, heh… heh heh…”

The Necromancer let out a strange laugh.

“I don’t know why a disciple would betray him… but do you really think I’ll talk?”

“If you won’t, I’ll just kill you and ask your soul.”

“Hah! Of course, you would. That’s what a dark sorcerer would do! But too bad for you, I’ve already placed a restriction on my soul!”

Damian’s brow furrowed at the Necromancer’s words.

“I’ve bound my soul so I can’t speak of him! If you ask about him, my soul will be destroyed!”

Damian stared at the Necromancer, then clicked his tongue briefly.

“Unbelievable. You’re insane, putting a restriction on yourself.”

“See? You’ll get nothing from me!”

The Necromancer shouted defiantly. Damian watched him quietly before speaking.

“Then I’ll just have to kill you.”

Even with death looming, there was no fear on the Necromancer’s face. Instead, it was filled with joy. To die for him was the ultimate honor.

“A life already forfeit. Serve the dead.”

But the words that followed left the Necromancer bewildered.

“The dead…? What are you talking about…?”

Damian raised his fingers high. The residual dark magic began to react.

The dark magic formed a spell. Soon, strange sounds erupted.

-@#$@#%!

-@#!$!!%@!

The sounds were incomprehensible to humans, sending chills down the spine and raising goosebumps.

“Can you hear them? The voices of the dead who hate you.”

“That’s nonsense… there are no dead here!”

“A dark sorcerer who can’t even see that is as good as blind.”

The Necromancer couldn’t see them, but Damian could feel them.

The spirits of the dead surrounding him, filled with resentment.

There were thousands, but the Necromancer’s dark magic was too strong for them to affect him.

But now it was different. Damian was lending them his power.

“No matter how I think about it, this seems like the most excruciating way to make you suffer.”

The Necromancer’s eyes widened. He tried to bite his tongue.

But the dark chains piercing his body wouldn’t allow it.

“No… don’t… just kill me…”

The Necromancer pleaded with Damian.

As a dark sorcerer, he knew all too well what the vengeful dead would do to someone they hated.

“Please, just kill me!”

Thousands of spirits flowed through the chains into the Necromancer’s body.

His screams, filled with despair and agony, echoed through the air.