Chapter 30
I immediately dashed toward where he was.
The sound came from the open square at the center of the village.
The square, which should have been bustling with people busy at work, was filled with ghouls and terrified villagers.
Their faces were painted with despair and fear.
“Aaaargh!”
“Kuhahaha! Scream more! More!”
Meanwhile, Romulus watched the “ingredients for rebirth” before him with a thoroughly satisfied expression.
Disgusting bastard.
Having only seen this world’s settings through the novel, I had sometimes thought that the treatment of black magic was a bit harsh.
It wasn’t that black magic itself was evil, only that many of the most heinous individuals happened to be black mages. Occasionally, a good black mage even appeared.
But seeing Romulus now, I could almost develop a hatred for black mages that I never had before.
The guards, who should have been protecting the villagers, had become ghouls and wandered around Romulus.
I had to break through them and capture Romulus.
Fortunately, he was a mage, so if I could ambush him quickly, I might be able to capture him alive.
I mentally traced the trajectory of the sword, imagining how I would take out the ghouls and subdue him.
Thud!
With that thought, I immediately reached toward the enemies behind me.
“Krrk?”
“Krkrk!”
The ghouls noticed me too late and tried to make noise—but it was already too late.
Swish!
Under the precise arc of the Dragonclaw Sword, the ghouls’ heads fell like ripe fruit.
I targeted the gaps in their armor, but thanks to the sword absorbing mana, it cut through them like slicing vegetables.
Its power was incomparable to an ordinary iron sword.
It was as if no mana escaped, maximizing its cutting force.
The way it fit in my hand made every strike immensely satisfying.
Romulus’ ghouls were nothing more than moving corpses—rankless, meaningless.
Unless it was a special case like a corpse explosion, they were just scarecrows to me.
“Krraah!”
A ghoul charged at me with a sword, but I sidestepped it easily.
One swing of my sword, and it fell headless after a few spasmodic steps.
All of this took mere seconds.
It was a fleeting moment, but Romulus wasn’t completely defenseless.
“Huh?”
He noticed something odd and paused his torture.
My target was not the square full of ghouls—it was Romulus himself.
I cut down the ghouls between us and quickly closed the distance to him.
When our eyes met, I said,
“Die, you insane bastard.”
Bang!
The Dragonclaw Sword pierced his waist, and his body was thrown back with a resounding crash.
“Tch.”
Rank 4 was still Rank 4.
Even though I tried a sudden strike, he raised a shield and barely blocked it.
The shock from bouncing off the shield tingled my hand like an electric current.
Romulus drew a long staff from the tattered cloak he wore.
It looked flimsy, likely cobbled together from nearby sticks—but don’t underestimate it.
Casting magic with a staff is far more potent than barehanded casting.
“Who are you!”
The wrinkles between his brows deepened. He squinted, trying to gauge my level.
I twirled my tingling wrist and answered:
“Who else? Someone who came to catch a black mage.”
Romulus had already crossed the first wall.
He knew very well how difficult it was to overcome a rank gap.
Had I been a higher rank than him, the shield or not, he would have been cut in half.
Since he blocked my strike, he wasn’t above my rank.
“…Hahaha! Brave for such a pitiful guy!”
He raised his staff and shouted at the surrounding ghouls.
The tip of his staff glowed purple, and the ghouls’ movements changed noticeably.
“Kill him!”
From about Rank 4 black magic, a mage could directly command ghouls.
Of course, high-level tactics weren’t possible—just simple orders: “Kill him,” “Watch the villagers.”
Still, this was far superior to ghouls blindly attacking nearby objects.
“Krkrk!”
The ghouls immediately surrounded me.
Before becoming undead, they seemed to recall their lives as soldiers, gripping their swords as they glared at me.
“Huh?”
Romulus tried waving his staff again, sensing something amiss, but nothing changed.
“Hmph! So you’re not stupid enough to come here alone!”
Fortunately, no more ghouls appeared.
All the ghouls in the square were present. No reinforcements came.
Looks like Islin’s handling it well.
After all, he had reached the sub-master of the Gio Clan. He could handle a few ghouls easily.
Then I could do what I needed to do.
“Hrrgh!”
I infused the Dragonclaw Sword with mana, maximizing its cutting force.
It felt as if I had drawn an Aura Sword.
I wasn’t just Ian Impera, the drunken bum—I felt like I was in the body of a knight who had reached a certain level.
I might not display my full former skill, but these ghouls were easily manageable.
“Krkrk!”
“Where do you think you’re going!”
I swung the sword at the ghouls attacking from all directions.
The Dragonclaw Sword tore through their flesh and split their bones.
Each swing froze a ghoul in place.
“This bastard…!”
Romulus couldn’t stay idle and aimed his staff at me.
“Die!”
A black orb shot from the staff.
A basic mage spell—the magic projectile.
Having fought on many battlefields, it looked slow, like a ping-pong ball.
Until now, I could follow it with my eyes, but my body couldn’t move fast enough.
It was like moving slowly in water.
But now it was different.
My body gradually followed the attack I had only been tracking with my eyes.
It felt as if a heavy weight tied to my feet had dropped off.
I narrowly dodged his spell while steadily cutting down the ghouls.
“Krkrk!”
Swords rained from all directions.
Klang!
I ducked and blocked the incoming strikes.
“Hnn…”
The undead still had some strength, and they were controlled by a Rank 4 black mage.
I couldn’t underestimate them in my current state.
Had I been an Absolute before, this would have been a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
I twisted my sword slightly, deflecting the blows to the side.
“Krkrk?”
Off-balance, they made strange sounds and stumbled.
I swept my sword over them one by one, and they collapsed.
Crack!
I stomped the flying heads, ending them for good.
A single bite to the ankle could have meant death by poison.
Romulus frowned every time a ghoul’s head exploded, as if annoyed.
“Heh…!”
Droplets of saliva leaked from his mouth, showing his irritation at losing ghouls.
Gradually, the square, once full of ghouls, noticeably emptied.
“What… what’s happening?”
The terrified villagers widened their eyes at the sudden arrival of a savior.
Though they had done nothing before, they now felt a glimmer of hope.
Romulus didn’t let this go unchallenged.
“Hmph!”
Thud!
He suddenly slammed his staff into the ground.
“Mumble mumble…”
He began chanting a spell.
Spells are more powerful when spoken aloud.
Clearly, he was preparing something big.
I quickly recalled a line from the novel:
Rank 4 black mage’s black magic.
Among them, only one required planting a staff in the ground:
Poison Swarm.
A deadly black magic spreading poisonous gas over an area.
Originally meant to create a corpse explosion, he now planned to turn everyone into ghouls and escape.
I cut down one ghoul rushing at me and shouted:
“Everyone, run!”
“Eh?!”
“Quick! Get away from him!”
“Uuuaah!”
The villagers, panicked, fled following my command.
The ghouls, focused on me, gave them the chance to escape.
And me?
Why run when I had something better?
I drew the faceplate I had prepared.
The artifact that allowed the protagonist Dia to face a Rank 5 black mage:
Hecate’s Faceplate.
I had prepared it just in case.
Its performance was unmatched.
It was the artifact that allowed a future me, Ian Impera the black mage, to confront such threats.
“Kuhahaha! Too late!”
He gave a vile smile and his lower abdomen swelled like a frog’s belly, opening his mouth wide.
From within, a purple smoke burst out like a cloud.
Fwoooosh!
The poisonous mist engulfed me instantly.
It felt like being swallowed by a violet cloud.
Grass touched by the poison withered and rotted instantly.
I now understood why black mages were feared—every spell was nasty.
Ghouls, corpse explosions, poison…
“Aaaargh!”
“R-run!”
The villagers scrambled away from Romulus in terror.
Fortunately, since I had warned them, no one was engulfed by the poison.
The terrible mist filled the square before dissipating.
After a while, it settled, revealing Romulus alone among the corpses.
He scowled and clicked his tongue.
“Tch! The prey I worked so hard to catch all escaped! What a pain to go catch them again…”
He was already planning his next move, confident of victory.
Too bad—I was very much alive.
“Huh?”
Swish!
…Krak!
Through the violet mist, I swung the Dragonclaw Sword.
Covered lightly with mana, it sliced across Romulus’ left hand.
The violet fog cleared, revealing me, fully wearing the faceplate.
We were close enough for it to be sufficient.
“How… how did you do that in such a short moment?!”
He held his severed hand in disbelief.
The Poison Swarm had struck only for a few seconds.
Within that time, I had put on the faceplate—it must have looked miraculous to him.
For a Korean man, gas mask training is essential.
“Just practice a lot.”
Thunk.
Romulus’ left hand, raised in midair, fell to the ground.
Even the runes glowing on the filthy hand faded rapidly.
“Aaaargh…!”
A scream of pain followed.
Blood and black mana gushed continuously from the severed hand.
In the novel’s world, this should never happen.
A hand cut off—a blank.
Immediately, no matter the rank, all power is lost, and one becomes ordinary.
Romulus was experiencing this.
Rank 4 black mage, built from accumulated evil.
With his left hand severed, his blood and mana flowed out.
A lower-rank mage would have simply lost a hand.
But Romulus had crossed the first wall.
He had a significant amount of mana stored.
Kugugugu…!
Mana exploded outward, accompanied by a thunderous noise shaking the ground.
“Krrr…”
The remaining ghouls, having lost their master’s mana, reverted to corpses.
The guards, instead of hollow-eyed ghouls, lay peacefully with their eyes closed.
“No, no! My mana… my mana…!”
Romulus wailed, clutching his severed left hand.
He tried pressing it back on the stump, but it wouldn’t reattach.
“Aaaargh…!”
With his final scream, Romulus lost consciousness.
