**Chapter 12**
—
The dark mage Frakil let out a hollow laugh.
“Your mother? Is your cult led by some wench or something?”
Arthur blinked.
“Cult? What’s that?”
“Don’t play dumb. Are you part of the sect led by the \[Thousand-Year Witch]? Or is it the one led by the \[Black Cross]?”
“Hm… Sorry, but neither.”
At Arthur’s reply, Frakil sneered coldly.
“Doesn’t seem like you want to talk. Then I’ll just have to make you want to.”
Flames erupted beneath Arthur’s feet, just as that cold smile touched Frakil’s lips.
Having anticipated that a spell would be cast the moment Frakil smiled, Arthur dodged effortlessly.
‘A battle against a mage is a fight against time. You must never let them finish casting.’
With that thought, Arthur activated his ring.
In that instant, mana surged, and strength beyond human limits flooded his entire body.
**Body Reinforcement**.
The most basic combat technique using mana had been activated.
Arthur, now fully prepared, charged straight toward Frakil.
Frakil responded immediately.
He turned and shouted viciously at the observing beggars.
“Catch that bastard alive! If you don’t, every one of you dies today!”
“W-What?”
“It means I’ll use you all as sacrifices. Don’t you get it?”
The beggars’ faces contorted in horror.
But none of them had the courage to defy the merciless dark mage.
In the end, nearly fifty beggars stood in Arthur’s way.
To them, Arthur spoke calmly.
“If you block my path, I intend to kill you all. Are you okay with that?”
“…What did you say?”
“I mean it. Whether I have a grudge or not, if you get in my way, I’ll kill you. Should I repeat it?”
The beggars blinked, confused.
Then, after finally processing what he said, they burst into awkward laughter.
“This bastard’s threatening to kill us from both sides. What a nutcase.”
“Still, a mage is scarier than a swordsman… especially if it’s a dark mage!”
With that cry, the beggars rushed in.
They weren’t particularly threatening individually, but there were too many to simply ignore.
‘Hmm… That Frakil guy hasn’t even shown his full strength yet. I don’t want to waste mine unnecessarily.’
Arthur hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
He hadn’t expected to resolve this easily anyway.
In that case, it wouldn’t hurt to exert himself a little.
Having made up his mind, Arthur swung his sword.
In that moment, the leading beggars were decapitated.
“…!”
The ones following froze in shock.
They stared blankly at the two bodies whose heads had been cleanly severed.
The corpses still had their mouths agape, as if unaware they were dead.
But that was only the beginning.
**Slash—!**
Blood sprayed, and heads fell.
Arthur’s sword, glowing with an eerie light, sliced through necks like tofu.
That alone was terrifying enough, but the speed was overwhelming.
The moment anyone entered his range, whether they ducked or twisted away, their heads flew off.
In less than a minute, Arthur had broken through the encirclement, prompting the beggars to scream—
“Shit!! He’s a mage too!”
As the beggars scattered, Arthur blinked.
‘I thought this was just the beginning… and they’re already running?’
Then he smiled faintly and muttered,
“Lucky me.”
Arthur bolted forward again.
Seeing Arthur close the distance rapidly, Frakil clicked his tongue.
‘Useless trash… Half of them need to die once this is over.’
They were picked up to transport, search, and dispose of bodies, but—as expected—loyalty was nonexistent.
Still, it wasn’t surprising. Frakil remained composed.
He poured mana into a completed spell.
Two magic rings made of pure mana vibrated violently.
**Rumble—!**
With a low growl, darkness erupted and lunged at Arthur.
It was a different spell from the earlier flames.
This time, Arthur didn’t dodge. He reversed his grip and slashed with his sword.
**Clang—!**
With the sound of shattering glass, the darkness that had clung to his ankles split in two.
Freed, Arthur looked up.
“Huh? Where’d he go?”
Just then, his body tilted.
A heavy blow to his side hurled him into the wall.
It looked like a clean hit.
But Frakil muttered incredulously,
“…You’re still conscious?”
Arthur, who had blocked the strike with his black iron sword, narrowed his eyes.
“Oh… Good to see it again. That armor—no, should I call it a shell?”
Frakil flinched.
He subtly pulled back his blood-enhanced right arm and shouted,
“You know about this ability? Who the hell are you?”
“Like I said, I can’t tell you. But we’ve met before.”
With that, Arthur rushed in again.
Frakil countered with a punch.
**Bang! Bang! Bang!**
Strange, non-metallic sounds rang out as the two exchanged dozens of blows.
Almost as if agreed upon, they both leapt back at the same moment.
During that brief pause, Arthur caught his breath, and Frakil tilted his head.
“You… You’ve only got one ring?”
“Hmm? You mean my mana ring?”
“I only sense 1st-circle mana… Are you hiding your power?”
Arthur smiled with his eyes.
“No, I’m really 1st-circle. You’re quite perceptive.”
Frakil frowned.
He tried to read Arthur’s intentions, but couldn’t.
Partly because of the mask, but more so because Arthur’s voice hadn’t changed since entering.
Without tonal shifts, it was impossible to detect lies.
‘…He doesn’t seem to be hiding his power. Then is he really 1st-circle?’
A swordsman who broke through fifty beggars and blocked his blow… only 1st-circle?
It made no sense.
Frakil, genuinely curious now, asked,
“…Who the hell are you?”
“You keep asking the same thing. I told you—I can’t say… And are you sure it’s okay to look away?”
Frakil flinched.
In that instant, Arthur thrust his sword up toward Frakil’s jaw.
**Screech—!**
Thankfully, the blow was deflected by Frakil’s bloodline ability.
His reptilian shell-covered fist flew in retaliation.
Arthur stared at it without blinking and smiled faintly.
‘Undine, now.’
Suddenly, Frakil’s body wobbled.
“…!”
He tried to regain his balance, but it wasn’t easy.
Some sorcery was causing the slime around his ankles to writhe and pull at him.
‘Of course! He only had one ring because he’s a **Battle Magician**!’
Frakil struggled to stabilize himself—but it was too late.
He toppled into the slime, and Arthur didn’t miss the chance.
The black iron sword swept in, cleanly severing Frakil’s right arm.
“Gaaaargh!”
Roaring, Frakil cast two pre-prepared spells in fury.
But Arthur had already moved out of range, dodging them with ease.
Gnashing his teeth, Frakil growled from where he had risen.
“…You bastard. I won’t let you die easily.”
Darkness began to surge around him again.
The remaining beggars fled in terror.
The only one who stayed behind to watch, hiding in the shadows, was Adun.
But even he couldn’t withstand the darkness that swallowed torchlight, and eventually fled.
‘C-Crazy! What kind of monsters are wreaking havoc here!?’
Just as Adun vanished with a cry, Arthur scratched his chin as he watched the spreading darkness.
‘Hmm… That’s dangerous. He still can’t cast spells instantly, but that shell gives him enough time…’
In the future, Frakil’s infamy wasn’t due to his magic—it was that bloodline of his.
A shell that blocked both spells and sword aura.
Once fully awakened, dragging the fight out was a losing strategy.
Arthur made up his mind and asked,
“By the way, Mr. Frakil. That ability of yours—it blocks magic too, right?”
“What?”
“I’m talking about your bloodline. It definitely blocks magic too, doesn’t it?”
Frakil narrowed his eyes.
“You bastard… You’re an assassin from another sect, aren’t you?”
“Another sect?”
“The dark mage sect that covets my bloodline. That’s where you came from, isn’t it?”
Arthur blinked.
Frakil, drawing his own conclusions, grinned.
“But it seems you can only use basic magic. Those little tricks won’t work anymore. Brace yourself.”
With that declaration, Frakil covered himself in his black shell and moved.
Arthur blinked again and muttered,
‘Mages don’t listen to others, but dark mages are on another level… They even misinterpret everything however they want.’
He picked up Frakil’s severed right arm.
Frakil gritted his teeth.
“When did you—!”
His words cut off.
Arthur suddenly bit into the severed arm.
‘What the hell? Why’s he biting… my arm?’
A chill ran down Frakil’s spine.
Sensing something ominous, he charged at Arthur.
By then, Arthur’s lips were smeared with blood and flesh as he murmured,
“…Ugh. I expected this, but dark mage blood tastes terrible. It’s bitter and astringent.”
Then, with blood still on his mouth, he looked up.
Frakil now looked more like a black-armored knight than a dark mage.
That thought flitting through his mind, Arthur launched himself forward.
In that moment, Frakil’s eyes widened.
“…!”
Arthur had vanished from sight.
Though a dark mage, his enhanced senses rivaled trained knights—so the shock was even greater.
‘A swordsman’s battle is about perception—whether you can sense your opponent or not. And right now…’
He couldn’t sense Arthur at all.
As that thought struck him, Frakil looked down to see a sword piercing his chest, blood spilling out.
“Huh? It went through? Hmm… I see. It looks like if the force is too great, it still penetrates.”
He turned his head slowly.
There, wearing the same shell as himself, was Arthur.
Frakil let out a hollow laugh.
“You bastard… You really stole my power?”
As he muttered weakly, Arthur pulled the sword from Frakil’s chest.
With his heart pierced, Frakil collapsed to the floor.
Arthur muttered as he looked down at him.
‘They say a legendary dark mage has to be killed a hundred times, but… this guy wasn’t quite there yet.’
Feeling the battle was finally over, Arthur grinned.
“I’ll put your powers to good use, Frakil. Somewhere nice, too.”
At that, the dying Frakil turned his eyes toward him and asked slowly,
“…Who… are you? What are you?”
“Oh, come on. That’s getting old. I told you—I can’t say.”
“…Then why are you trying to kill me? Was my bloodline really your goal?”
Arthur shook his head.
“No. I killed you because… in the future, you tried to kill me first.”
“…?”
“So I came to kill you before that happened. And, well, to take your powers while I was at it.”
Frakil blinked.
Then, laughing bitterly, he shouted,
“You crazy bastard! You think I’d believe that—!”
But he never finished the sentence.
Arthur’s sword flashed again, cleanly severing Frakil’s head.
**Thunk.**
His hand dropped limply.
And with that, all life left him.
In the silence that followed, Arthur looked down at Frakil’s corpse and murmured,
“In the end, we really couldn’t communicate. But I did learn something from this.”
He offered a short moment of silence.
“Dark mages can’t be reasoned with. A good lesson. Thank you, Mr. Frakil.”
—
