# Chapter 51
—
Khan Madrid.
One of the enemies he had failed to kill in his previous life.
And the root of all the schemes that had brought down the House of Bayern.
Because of that, Arthur couldn’t believe what he was seeing now.
*‘Not an illusion… but the real Khan Madrid?’*
It made no sense.
Why would Khan Madrid be in a place like this?
And so Arthur realized that what he was facing now had to be an illusion.
*‘A fabricated enemy conjured from the depths of my own mind. But still…’*
Arthur muttered under his breath, hesitating.
His senses were screaming that the man before him was real.
The cold sweat streaming down his back testified to that fact.
His head and body were making contradictory claims before the same sight.
And in that moment when Arthur found himself unable to move, Khan Madrid spoke.
“Why is a child of Bayern here?”
“…”
“Hiding his identity behind an artifact, no less…”
Arthur flinched.
*‘He’s seen through me. He’s seen through who I am.’*
The instant he realized this, he found himself stepping back.
*‘Why? Why am I retreating?’*
He couldn’t understand.
So what if his identity was discovered—why was he backing down?
But his body refused to listen.
His feet moved on their own, putting distance between him and the man in front of him.
Arthur’s confusion only grew, and at that moment Khan Madrid spoke again.
“What business does Arthur Bayern have running about as a mercenary in Arcane’s back alleys?”
“…”
“And what’s the point of hunting down Marshal Dust, the imperial palace’s spy?”
“…”
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Arthur opened his mouth.
But no sound came out.
Khan Madrid, watching his silence, muttered in a flat voice.
“Looks like you don’t intend to answer… then I’ll force your mouth open.”
At those words, Khan Madrid raised his hand.
Arthur’s eyes widened.
That hand—
The very hand that had once pierced his chest.
The hand that had left him dying cold.
The hand he remembered while praying to the heavens.
At the resurfacing of that buried memory, Arthur no longer hesitated.
He drew his pistol and pulled the trigger without warning.
Bang—!
With the gunshot, blood splattered from Khan Madrid’s body.
As Arthur gasped for breath, he noticed the blood spilling from the man’s shoulder.
“….”
At the same time, both his disoriented body and muddled mind began to return to normal.
With that shift came realization.
*‘A fake. It’s not real. Khan Madrid’s blood… it’s not red.’*
When alive, Arthur had seen his blood—it was black.
But now, the blood flowing was red.
Which meant everything here was fake.
As soon as he recognized that fact, the chaotic world around him steadied, and his excitement cooled.
Arthur let out a dry laugh.
“Ha… ha….”
“…”
“Impressive. An illusion that even deceives my senses… quite the sorcerer.”
Muttering, Arthur sprang forward.
At the same time, he drew the meteoric iron sword and swung for Khan Madrid’s neck.
But Khan Madrid wasn’t idle either.
He drew a dagger to parry Arthur’s strike.
Clang—!
Steel clashed against steel, and their eyes locked.
For a moment, the two glared into each other’s eyes. Then Arthur knocked aside the dagger.
He raised his pistol.
Bang!
The muzzle flared, the shot fired.
Unable to dodge, Khan Madrid was struck and spat blood.
Arthur wasted no time—he swung his sword upward, severing both of Khan Madrid’s hands.
“…!”
Khan Madrid’s eyes bulged as he stared at his severed wrists.
Arthur kicked him squarely in the chest.
Khan Madrid toppled, face-first into the filthy water.
Seizing the chance, Arthur mounted him and drove the meteoric iron sword down into his neck.
Thunk.
With a strange sound, Khan Madrid’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
Arthur muttered, watching.
“Even knowing it’s an illusion… this still leaves a foul taste.”
“…”
“I didn’t want to kill you like this.”
Arthur sneered coldly.
And then Khan Madrid’s body collapsed into nothingness.
The hypnosis had been broken.
Kukuku—!
The distorted world around him began to unravel.
Time, which had been frozen, resumed its flow.
Arthur turned his head.
“……”
Three mercenaries lay collapsed.
And Carpe sat cross-legged, groaning in pain.
Six of them had entered here in total, himself included—yet one was missing.
Arthur pieced it together and muttered.
“Hiding his identity… lying in wait.”
His lips curled into a grin.
“To think Keras, that mercenary, was the culprit all along.”
—
—
Hypnosis was a very difficult form of magic.
Once caught in it, the line between reality and illusion blurred. Even if one broke free of its chains, the odds of retaining sanity were slim.
*‘That’s why it’s so hard to cast. Physical contact, or extended eye contact, is usually required.’*
And now, Arthur realized why he had been caught in such a difficult spell.
*‘That D-rank mercenary, Keras… he was the culprit. That’s why I fell into hypnosis.’*
They had traveled together for quite some time.
Plenty long enough for a mage skilled in hypnosis to cast the spell.
At that moment, the spirits beside him confirmed his suspicions.
—\[A-Arthur! Just now, that man Keras…!]
Arthur nodded at their whispers.
Then he turned his gaze to Carpe.
Unlike the others, Carpe was groaning cross-legged, as though struggling against the hypnosis.
After a brief thought, Arthur stepped up and struck him hard on the back of the head.
“—Kyaaagh!!”
With a delayed scream, Carpe jolted upright, gasping for breath.
He noticed Arthur and shouted.
“Y-you!? How did you escape!?”
“What do you mean?”
“The hypnosis! Don’t tell me… you weren’t caught in it!?”
Arthur shook his head.
“No, I was. But I escaped.”
“You fell into it… and escaped? On your own?”
“Yes.”
Carpe’s eyes widened.
*‘I barely managed to cling to sanity until this brat knocked me out of it… and he escaped on his own?’*
His throbbing head was a small price—without Arthur, he too would have been lost to the illusion.
The hypnosis that had overtaken them was of very high caliber.
*‘To escape such hypnosis unaided… his mental fortitude must rival that of a sage.’*
Which would mean this mercenary’s mind was on par with a sage’s.
But Carpe shook his head.
*‘No, that can’t be. More likely, he’s just insane. Madmen don’t fall into hypnosis easily. A sage? Ha… as if.’*
He stood up, blinking.
And found a gun barrel aimed right between his brows.
“Y-you lunatic! Why are you aiming at me!?”
Arthur smiled.
“I did help you, but… thinking on it, you’re suspicious too, Carpe. Maybe you’re with them?”
“I fell under hypnosis too—how could I be with them!?”
“Hmm… then I’ll have to confirm.”
Carpe paled.
“Confirm what! Put that thing away! This body is my real body!”
“…Your real body? Then when I saw you at Adventure Pharmaceuticals last time, that was fake?”
“That was only half real! It’s black magic I developed—an exchange between an animal’s life and mine, so I can resurrect—”
Carpe clamped his mouth shut.
Arthur just beamed at him, eyes glinting.
“…You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes. And you knew I knew, didn’t you? So why act surprised?”
Carpe bit his lip.
Of course he had realized Arthur was aware.
He had kept him around anyway, planning to use this madman at the right time.
*‘His sanity is questionable, but his skills are useful. And yet… looks like I was the one used instead.’*
Carpe sighed.
“Damn it… I shouldn’t have reacted when we first met. Should’ve ignored him.”
“Even if you hadn’t, I’d have figured it out. ‘Immortal,’ really? Terrible naming sense, Necromancer.”
“I never wanted that title. But anyway…”
Carpe swallowed hard.
“Are you really going to kill me?”
“We’ll see. Killing you wouldn’t be a bad idea, but right now… I’d rather kill the bastard who hypnotized me.”
Carpe nodded furiously.
“Right! No point taking it out on me! Let’s kill the one who cast the hypnosis together. He’s the cause of all this.”
Arthur lowered his gun.
Carpe smirked—only for the muzzle to suddenly jam into his mouth.
“But no funny business, Necromancer. I’m in a very bad mood right now. So let’s keep this as pleasant as possible, alright?”
Arthur smiled brightly.
Carpe swallowed and nodded.
“I won’t betray you.”
“Good. Then we’re allies.”
Arthur turned away.
Carpe sighed in relief despite himself.
*‘What the hell is with those eyes…’*
Trying to steady his nerves, Carpe watched as Arthur stroked his chin, studying Azlan, Kassel, and Laborde—still lost in hypnosis.
“Hmm…”
It was dangerous to disturb people under hypnosis. Even the slightest shock could destroy their minds.
Best was to have them escape it on their own—but that didn’t look likely.
“Mother…”
“G-get away from me! Go away!”
“A-a dragon! A dragon’s here!”
Azlan wept, Kassel screamed, Laborde stood slack-jawed—locked in battles with phantoms of their own.
Arthur glanced at Carpe.
“Hypnosis is technically a branch of black magic, right? Is there a way to undo it?”
“There is. But if it fails, they’ll turn on us like those mercenaries did.”
“Then I’ll handle it if that happens.”
Carpe nodded and stepped closer.
Muttering incantations, he channeled mana into the three.
Azlan and Kassel stirred awake.
“Ugh—!”
“Kh…!”
They dripped with cold sweat, trembling. Arthur lowered his sword.
Azlan’s voice shook.
“Where… are we?”
“In the sewers. You were under hypnosis just now.”
“An… illusion? That was hypnosis?”
Azlan’s pupils shook. Kassel let out a bitter breath.
“That… that was a dream? Damn it! I was about to slay a dragon and become a Dragon Slayer—and it was all hypnosis!?”
Arthur tilted his head.
“A dragon appeared?”
“Yeah… a tough opponent. But if that was only illusion…”
“Oh? Kassel, have you actually seen a dragon before?”
“….” Kassel trailed off, then shook his head.
“No. Who could meet a dragon? Even children wouldn’t tell such lies.”
Arthur smirked.
*‘Terrible liar, Kassel. So you really have seen one, then?’*
Dragons—the archetypal monsters of fairy tales, called by some the very lords of magic.
Arthur was intrigued, but said no more.
*‘For now… Marshal Dust. He, and the one who cast this hypnosis, take priority.’*
He turned to Laborde, who was still trapped, weeping silently.
Arthur spoke.
“Neither of you are fit to continue, are you?”
“…”
“Stay here with Laborde. Rest. I’ll finish this quickly.”
Azlan trembled, then nodded weakly.
Arthur was right—he couldn’t go on.
*‘Damn it…’*
They had suffered and gained nothing.
Azlan ruffled her hair in frustration, when Kassel suddenly shouted.
“This isn’t defeat! This is a strategic retreat, Donn! To beat you another day! Got it!?”
Arthur chuckled and nodded.
“Of course. Next time, may you be the victor, Kassel.”
With that, he turned away.
Carpe followed.
Together, they ran down the passage once more.
After about ten minutes, Arthur asked casually,
“So… how far to the target?”
Carpe answered, thankfully.
“We’ve lost some ground… about twenty minutes.”
“This time, it’s the real thing, right?”
“Well… with everything that’s happened, I can’t say for sure…”
Arthur’s gaze darkened.
Carpe flinched.
“I-it’s real! Stop glaring, damn it, you’re scary!”
Arthur narrowed his eyes again.
“So, what was your original plan, Carpe?”
“Original plan?”
“Yes. How were you planning to capture Marshal Dust?”
Carpe sighed.
“…The plan was to use the men I brought to take down rival groups. I wasn’t the only one who got this intel, after all.”
Arthur tilted his head.
“And Marshal Dust—why go to such lengths to catch him?”
“What else? He’s a spy.”
“Yes, I know that. But why are the Black Cross so intent on him?”
“…And you think I’ll just tell you that?”
“Oh? So you won’t?”
“…Are you planning to kill me?”
“Maybe.”
Carpe shut his mouth, then warned.
“Try it. You think I came here alone? Thirty cultists are here. And the one who smashed your head in is here too.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“Mister Tacen?”
“That’s right! Descendant of the monster said to have lived a thousand years ago—he’s here!”
“Oh… so that’s the presence I feel. Tacen, huh?”
“…What do you mean, presence?”
Arthur stopped walking.
He pointed down the passage.
“The wailing down there. I thought it was some beast, but from what you say… sounds like Tacen.”
Carpe blinked.
Then—
Boom!
The ground shook violently.
Carpe stumbled.
Arthur drew the meteoric iron sword.
Boom—!
Another quake.
Carpe’s lips twisted into a grimace.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His hands trembled as he gripped his staff.
“Don’t tell me… the worst-case scenario is unfolding.”
—
