21st Century Archmage-Chapter 203: Dear Black Dungfly, Altakas

Chapter 203: Dear Black Dungfly, Altakas

Translator: Lei

Proofreader: Enigami

“Th-This is…”

“Wh-What, Archmage Aidal is…”

With the Tower Master and 7th Circle Vice-master of the Ildorian Tower gone, even after the Emperor of the Laviter Empire declared the Dark Empire with black mages, the mages of the tower were frozen with uncertainty, unable to react. On top of that, the mages had been shocked silly by the widespread rumors that people who looked like the Tower Masters had been spotted among the Dark Empire’s mages. While they were in a daze of inaction, they received a secret letter through the Rubis Merchants. In that letter was a shocking fact.

The Golden-Eyed Reaper, Aidal, issued a command to all of Kallian’s mages. In the name of mana, all mages who used white magic were to convene in Nerman, regardless of status.

Trembling, the mages passed the letter around, panicking. 100 years had passed since the Golden-Eyed Reaper Aidal disappeared. But that man appeared once again 100 years later in an act that seemed to defy the river of time.

“What should we do?”

“What do you mean, what should we do? This the command of an 8th Circle archmage. At a time like this, when the mana of darkness is rampaging in the world, who do you think us white mages should be following?”

“Exactly so. We should immediately comply if it is a command from the great Aidal. I’m sure you all know the fate of the mages who defied him.”

When that was said, all of the mages trembled. In the past, Aidal had a terrifying way of knowing if a mage disobeyed or slandered him. He would summon that mage and quietly seal their mana. With every passing day, a tenth of the mana they once possessed would trickle away. They didn’t die, but for mages, not having mana was equal to death.

That was exactly why all mages feared Aidal. He was a violent and petty man who would never forgive anyone for defying his commands. Such a person was calling all mages.

“Isn’t there a chance that it isn’t Aidal?”

“Even so, we must go. The Lord of Nerman, Kyre, is the only person who can overcome this crisis. We must join forces with him.”

“But the magic tower is enemies with him, is it not?”

“What luxury do we have to jabber about enemies at a time like this?! The black mages of the Dark Empire could rush in at any moment and turn us into their slaves. Instead of doing nothing, the correct thing to do is to gather in Nerman and come up with a solution.”

“Indeed! Let us hurry and go to Nerman!”

“Let us do that, then. At this time, without the Tower Masters and the 7th Circle mages, the 8th Circle Archmage Aidal is the pillar for us white mages.”

The 6th Circle mages unanimously called the Golden-Eyed Reaper Aidal their ‘pillar’, all of them looking like they had seen the light of salvation. They had lost their Tower Masters, as well as the 7th Circle mages. Aidal was a beacon of hope for them to one day reach the upper circles, so they did not hesitate.

When it came down to it, mages were people who lived and died for magic. They had already scrubbed out the memory of the Aidal of 100 years ago.

And so, Aidal’s command was faithfully delivered to the major magic towers on the Continent. All the other magic towers were the same as the Ildorian Magic Tower. They scrambled to praise the infamous outcast and pariah of the magic world, Aidal, as the great pillar of the white magic world who would save the world.

* * *

“We must go to Nerman. We need to go there and fight the priest of the Evil God Kerma by Lord Kyre’s side.”

“Yes. Priestess Aramis and her outstanding holy power is also there, is she not? We must join forces.”

“According to our intel, the forces of the Dark Empire are moving towards Nerman. We must go to Nerman at once rather than standing dumbly around like we are now.”

“…This has all come about because of our corrupted ways. The Gods have become enraged and have given us such a trial. Now… we must repent. And the only way to do so is to save the world from the dirty clutches of the Evil God.”

The speakers were priests from the temple of the Goddess of Destiny, Pallan, the first of the Great God Adeine’s children. After the Cardinal and the high ranking priests went to the Laviter Empire, all contact with them was cut off. At first, the temple believed that the Cardinal and the others were locked up in prison, like the rumors said. In the entire history of the Kallian Continent, no human kings or emperors had ever killed a cardinal, so they thought there was just a slight misunderstanding.

But after the Dark Empire was declared, the temples realized the truth. The Emperor of the Dark Empire, Hadveria, had long since killed all the cardinals and important priests.

“Then we are in agreement. We shall gather the paladins and the priests with outstanding holy power and go to Nerman.”

One of the few remaining high ranking priests, Amorent, was elected to temporarily preside over the meeting of priests. With two thumps of a wooden hammer, he concluded the meeting.

‘Everything is on your shoulders. Lord of Nerman, Kyre… I think you are the only one who can save the world.’

Amorent only met him a single time, but the Lord of Nerman left a deeper impression on him than anyone else he had encountered. He felt the absolute love of god he had tasted through the holy power of Priestess Aramis surging in his chest anew.

‘Oh Goddess of Destiny… may you please guide us pitiful humans to the path of salvation.’

Closing his eyes, he offered a sincere prayer inside his heart. Above his bowed head, sparkled a small light.

* * *

“My liege, the number of refugees is enormous. It is already exceeding 200,000.” Derval passed on the report coming in from the border fort. “The heroic deeds you and Archmage Aidal displayed have resulted in soldiers and citizens of the Laviter Empire attempting to come to the territory no matter what. Truly amazing, my liege.”

Derval called it amazing, but I was thinking, ‘Heroic deeds my ass.’

If he knew the inside story, Derval wouldn’t utter such praise. Master granted lightning and fury to the Dark Empire bastards to the point of running out of mana, all in a contest of pride against Altakas. About one hundred Dark Empire Death Wyverns at the Havis Kingdom borders bade adieu to the world after eating the fireballs that had Master’s pride hanging on them.

It was that farce that Derval and the people were praising as ‘heroic deeds’. If not for the thick skin on my face, I would have gone red with embarrassment.

“Is the acceptance of the refugees going well?”

“Yes, my liege. It is just that I am once again awed by your foresight in preparing for such a day. We are using the sleeping tents left by the Havis and Laviter invaders in the past to construct a large-scale refugee camp. Thankfully, the weather is neither hot nor cold, so no one is suffering.”

“Purchase more military tents through the merchant groups. And do not allow any refugees to starve. How sad would it be for them to hunger when they’ve already lost their homes.”

“My liege…” Once again, Derval was completely moved. He looked at me with red eyes. “I thank the gods every day, truly. How could I not be thankful to the gods who granted the inadequate me such a merciful and awesome liege? My liege, I sincerely admire you!”

If something this catastrophic happened to regular people living in 21st century Korea, it was natural that the globally-connected people of Earth would gather donations or send relief supplies. But such a thing wasn’t natural here in Kallian. No matter how stricken the lands were with famine, the nobles had no interest in the people. Even if they begrudgingly offered food, they would profiteer by tacking on an enormous interest or create debts to turn the people into serfs. It was because this world lacked people as merciful as me that Derval was so moved.

‘Admiration is fine and all, but we need to settle this mess quickly.’

I saw the violence of the Dark Empire’s knights with my own two eyes. They cut down people, regardless of whether they were women or children, as if they were felling wheat. I had to end them once and for all. Only then did I feel that I would be able to put my feet up and sleep at ease.

“Derval, there’s somewhere I have to go real quick.”

“Pardon? Where are you going?”

It wasn’t my first time disappearing for one or two days at a time, but because of the Laviter Imperial Capital incident, Derval had become more of a worrywart. His face instantly changed from an emotionally touched expression to one of deep worry.

“I plan on asking the Temir for help.”

“Ah, yes… I forgot about them.”

The Havis Kingdom said they would reinforce us with the entirety of the kingdom’s forces, 200 Skyknights. But there wasn’t much word from the other kingdoms or empires yet.

‘The mages will come soon. But everything will hinge on having more forces.’

The situation was so dire that I would have liked to extend a hand to the Golden Magic Tower that could be called Master’s sworn enemy. It was said that the reclusive society of mages was composed entirely of 7th Circle mages. With our side sorely lacking high level firepower, I was desperate enough to bend over backwards for their help. But there was Master’s pride to consider, so I erased all thought of that.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t have to worry about Altakas. Though by now, he should be steaming with anger.”

“Huh? He’s mad?”

Even Derval didn’t know about what I did on the sly. Using a lumikar I got from Black Fox, the black merchant who came to do business with me in the past, I wrote down a little something and sent a private letter to Altakas. I had a feeling that the black merchants that silently disappeared along with the Dark Empire’s appearance were closely linked to Altakas.

And well, if I was off the mark, then whatever. It was no skin off my back.

* * *

Translator: Lei

Proofreader: Imagine

* * *

“Y-YOUUUU!!!!!”

Because he had waited 200 years for this moment, the Black Magic Swordsman of Destruction, Altakas, made sure his preparations were perfect. He was steadily conquering the neighboring kingdoms by using black magic to mind control the demon beasts that could in turn control legions of monsters. For the key facilities, like the royal capitals, he used the half-lich mages to instantly rain down hell and seize control while the command line was in chaos. Using that method, he seized three capitals, and now, he set his sights on Nerman, the core opposition the Dark Empire faced in the western and northern continent.

“You dare… spout such nonsense to me… argh!”

Crumpled in his hand was the letter from the Nerman Lord, Kyre.

Dear Black Dungfly Altakas,

Thanks so much for the present you gave me last time. I’ve been preparing a grand party for you. If you really call yourself an 8th Circle magic swordsman, then do your best to muster the courage to visit Nerman. My master, the Archmage Aidal, said he would do you the honor of slapping your naughty butt to fix your bad boy ways. He really wants you to come.

If you don’t come even after this much provocation, you’re not the Emperor of the Dark Empire, but a real dungfly. Since you’re gonna come, let’s go at it on the first day of the month of Bormio in two weeks.

From,

The Great Lord of Nerman, Kyre

That was what was written in the short and concise letter.

Fwooooosh.

Flames of rage emerged from Altakas’ hand, burning up the letter.

“Aidal… that bastard was alive.”

The white mage ascended to the 8th Circle after he did. It was only after he gained a human body that he came to know of Aidal.

“He must be the reason why that bastard Kyre was able to become a 7th Circle magic swordsman. Aidal… kukuku.”

He was furious, but the desire to win stirred up within him as well. He thought he was the only person in human history to rise to the 8th Circle, but Aidal managed it after him. The Nerman Lord, Kyre, was merely an insignificant bug at this point in time. He’d already met him once and had seen the limits of the boy’s current abilities, so Altakas did not fear him. But Aidal was a different story.

“O-Oh Master of Dark Mana. Something terrible has happened!”

His fighting spirit was surging up at the thought of Aidal when suddenly, a black mage entered the throne room.

“What is it,” gritted Altakas with irritation.

“An unknown 8th Circle mage has appeared near the Havis Kingdom borders! I am told he and the Lord of Nerman are indiscriminately killing the Death Wyverns and Death Knights,” said the black mage, panic in his voice.

“So?”

“…”

The mage quivered in silence.

“Morons.”

One cold word full of rage was uttered.

“…Gugh!”

As soon as the word was spoken, a transparent mana sword appeared next to the black mage’s neck and plunged into his mouth.

“I will do as you wish. Aidal, and you… I will burn you all to death. All of you. Kuhahahahahaha!”

His conquering of the Continent was going so easily that he felt a little regret. Altakas decided to smash Nerman in an instant.

* * *

Late at night, Aramis went to the Temple of Neran.

There, she found a man kneeling on the floor of the temple, his head bowed in prayer. He was the Lord of Nerman, and the man she loved.

‘He has been praying like this every day since that day…’

Since the day he returned without the beastmen, Kyre showed up every dawn to pray alone. He did not draw crosses or recite dedications to the gods, but he knelt for a long time in utter stillness, silently bowing his head before God. And she knew from the dampness he left that he wept every time.

‘Haah…’

Day after day, he showed others his smiling face. There was nothing about the situation that should elicit a smile, but he did his best to be a sturdy pillar for everyone. And yet, he was in such pain. He knew how to weep for the knights who died for his sake.

Aramis felt her eyes grow wet with tears. Priests were not the only children of God. It was people like him, people who could cry tears of pain for someone else, who were the children loved by God.

‘I love and respect you. I wish to stay a woman who can love you until the day I part from this world, no, even in my next life. My… dear…’

Tears of overwhelming love dripped down her cheeks. She gazed upon the holy relic of the Goddess of Mercy, Neran, praying with all her heart that she would never forget the wish she made today.