Chapter 21

‘There are more people than I expected.’

The City of Death isn’t truly as gloomy and ominous as its name suggests. Yet even considering that, the swirling currents of people beyond the carriage window were no ordinary sight.

It wasn’t hard to guess why.

Magic is a rare spectacle even in this world.

And during this annual cycle when the Tower’s trials unfold, the Tower’s interior is specially opened for the public’s entertainment.

In a sense, it would not be an exaggeration to call it the city’s greatest festival, centered around the Magic Tower.

The ‘Trial of the Crimson Magic Tower’ currently underway in Huangdu is one of the largest-scale events across the entire empire.

Moreover, the Black Magic Tower only began opening its doors during the reign of the Black Duke, making its prominence all the more exceptional. And that fact signified only one thing.

“Many eyes will be watching you.”

Duke Saxon, my father, spoke.

To reveal his existence for the first time to the world of magic and to the public.

Until now, Dale’s actions had been nothing more than rumors inflated by word of mouth. But proving himself before those who would now witness this trial was different.

So too is the meaning his actions will carry.

“Yes, I know.”

Dale couldn’t possibly be unaware of that fact. It was precisely because he knew that he had rushed to form the Third Circle and volunteered for the Tower’s trial.

Clunk.

At that very moment, the carriage came to an abrupt halt with a slight jolt.

“Looks like we’ve arrived.”

Father, the Black Count, spoke calmly.

“I humbly greet His Excellency the Black Count!”

“Your Excellency the Duke!”

The elders of the Black Mage Tower, who had been waiting, bowed in unison toward the father and son stepping out of the carriage.

“Look, it’s Young Master Dale!”

And from afar, people’s gazes turned to see the young prodigy of the Duke’s family.

“To have reached the third circle at such a young age…!”

“They say he’s an unparalleled magical genius in the empire—so it’s true after all!”

“No, I hear his swordsmanship is on par with the Duke’s knights too!”

‘This is embarrassing, so embarrassing.’

In a sense, the greatest protagonist of this trial.

“Prince Dale.”

Just then, a woman of striking beauty stepped through the elders and approached Dale.

“Eris.”

“I humbly greet the Tower Lord.”

Eris, the Black Envoy.

She is a Tower Elder and the Chief Secretary who oversees the Tower’s affairs in the absence of the Black Lord.

“It is an honor to serve you, Lord Dale.”

“I look forward to working with you, Eris.”

A cold-looking woman in an ash-gray suit, her monocle gleaming.

“During the trial, she will assist you.”

“Yes, Father.”

With that, the Black Duke stepped forward, leading his elders.

“Your Highness, this way, please.”

A cold voice devoid of emotion. I followed Eris’s lead and stepped forward.

“The Academy graduates who will take the exam alongside Master Kong are waiting.”

Academy graduates, young black mages of the 3rd Circle. They were the competitors who would take the ‘Tower Exam’ alongside Dale, starting from the very bottom.

Whether these mere third-circle greenhorn mages could truly be called ‘competitors’ in any meaningful sense was beside the point.

‘Monster brat…’

That was the pure impression of Belik, a third-circle mage, upon facing Dale of Saxony, the prodigy of the Duke’s household.

──The Tower Trial, Tier 1.

‘Life Point Battle Royale’.

That said, it’s not a deathmatch where you literally risk your life to kill or be killed.

Test subjects are given a ‘Life Point Necklace’ with a shield magic enchantment. They can raise corpses scattered around to defend themselves or attack opponents.

If they receive a ‘valid hit’ equivalent to a fatal wound, the Life Point Necklace shatters as the shield magic activates──resulting in elimination.

After that, +1 point is added to the Life Point Necklace of the ‘attacker’ who delivered the effective hit.

Only those who ultimately accumulate +3 points or more are granted the qualification to advance to the next tier.

In other words, you must secure two or more life points in addition to your own.

A test designed to swiftly and efficiently weed out the dozens of applicants who sign up each time.

The rules of the ‘Life Point Battle’ itself are practiced in various forms throughout the Five-Colored Magic Tower, and even among knights, it is conducted quite frequently.

Filtering out the greenhorns who poured into the first tier of the Black Magic Tower each year was no exception.

──Or so it should have been.

But when Dale entered the exam hall, numerous black mages formed teams to test his skill, manipulating the undead soldiers.

‘I knew this would happen.’

Amidst the attention and scrutiny pouring in from all sides, Dale unleashed a single Wraithblade. A bitter chill spread across the entire skeleton.

In a one-against-many disadvantage, the Undead Army clashed, and soon the slaughter… no, the bone-slaughter began.

Much like a Sword Master slaughtering foot soldiers deep within enemy lines.

Dale’s undead blade swung, its bone-forged edge scattering a blue-tinged frost.

Clang!

The moment the bone blades clashed, waves of cold energy surged along the blades, wrapping around their opponents.

Crack, snap.

Enveloped. Frozen solid.

“Water, Water Magic!”

“Surely not dual attributes…”

As the cold engulfed the enemy’s undead soldiers, freezing them solid, a blade of bone plunged through the ice.

Clang!

That was the end.

That single strike sent shards of ice scattering in all directions, crystallizing into fragments. It shattered as limply as a glass bottle dropped to the ground.

“One.”

Dale muttered flatly. The ice shards scattered in all directions began to swirl toward Dale’s undead soldiers once more.

Not to seal off the opponent’s movements and freeze them like before…

Clang!

It forms armor and a shield to block enemy attacks coming from all directions.

A swarm of cold freely switching between Frozen Armor and Rapid Freezing magic.

It was nothing short of a divine feat of offense and defense combined.

“Two.”

Clang!

As Dale’s undead soldier swung his mace, another undead soldier shattered into pieces.

“Three.”

Not even a single blow returned, utterly one-sided.

“Using water-attribute magic is a rule-breaking violation, isn’t it-!”

Seeing this, one of the examiners urgently raised his voice.

This was a battlefield purely for testing one’s prowess as a black mage.

The only magic permitted in this exam is the two branches of necromancy: resurrection and enhancement. The use of any other magic is strictly forbidden.

“Isn’t there a rule saying we have to use only dark attribute magic to enhance the dead?”

Dale asked flatly.

“Even if it were something like ‘living, moving ice armor’?”

Clever, yet undeniably true. As proof, the exam proceeded without interruption, as if in agreement with Dale’s words.

An implicit affirmation.

“I suppose so.”

Watching this, Dale muttered flatly.

“It seems everyone here needs to join forces.”

With a smile that was hard to tell if it was childlike or not.

“Don’t you agree?”

The rules of the battle royale, the fight for survival points.

Yet here, there was only one common enemy and those who cooperated to bring him down.

A mere ten-year-old child stood alone against dozens of dark mages and the undead soldiers they commanded.

There was no room for shame or self-loathing over that fact.

“You lot, pin down those undead soldiers and target the sorcerer!”

“Just one opponent! Overwhelm him with numerical superiority!”

The opponent is none other than the son of that Black Ball.

Before they knew it, they’d even forgotten this was a ‘battle royale,’ and everyone began putting their heads together to subdue Dale.

No matter how close to invincible Dale’s undead soldiers were, ultimately, the one possessing the ‘Life Point Necklace’ was the sorcerer Dale himself.

A dozen or so undead soldiers sealed off one undead soldier, and the remaining undead soldiers rushed in, seizing the opening.

Their opponent had become a ‘Dead Army’ moving in perfect, coordinated formation.

“…Damn.”

Watching that scene, Dale finally clicked his tongue. Not out of surprise, but simply because he’d forgotten one crucial fact.

‘Come to think of it, artifact use was forbidden too.’

Using artifacts and grimoires was forbidden in the ‘Lower Floor Trial’ for novices and greenhorns. He couldn’t borrow the power of his beloved ‘Shadow Cloak’.

Moreover, since magic other than resurrection and enhancement was impossible, he couldn’t use any separate water-attribute magic either.

Realizing this, Dale’s gaze turned once more toward the undead army.

‘I guess I’ll have to go the direct approach.’

Still, nothing changed. It just made things a little more troublesome.

Dale stomped the ground toward the dead.

For an ‘ordinary mage,’ it was nothing short of suicide.

Yet, the moment he willingly plunged into the enemy ranks, he narrowly dodged the bone blades whirling right before his eyes.

Crack.

The moment the bone blade sliced through the air, Dale seized the opening, twisting and snapping the undead’s wrist. After breaking it, he tore off the undead’s arm and snatched the protruding ‘bone blade’.

The Bone Sword, which instantly manipulates the bones within the body to arm the deceased.

Snatching that very sword, he deflected the blow swung from behind.

Handling the white sword in his own hand with skill, his martial arts and swordsmanship unfolded as smoothly as flowing water.

As a ‘swordsman’ through and through, he began facing a dozen undead soldiers alone. They said not to use magic, but there was no rule against using martial arts or swordsmanship.

“Swordplay too…!”

“That’s the son of the Black Duke…”

The crowd packed into the colosseum-like arena, all there to witness Dale’s fame firsthand.

“The Empire’s greatest genius was no exaggeration!”

“It’s truly Prince Dale!”

Whether it was the opponents in the examination hall or those watching from afar in the audience, their reactions were much the same.

Awe.

Dale’s Dead Man’s Blade shattered enemies with overwhelming force, and Dale himself began neutralizing the dead one by one, matching that ferocity.

By precisely identifying the points where the threads of magical power connected the undead soldiers and the sorcerer, and by wielding the bone blade in his hand.

It was a miracle that could only be achieved through the perfect convergence of the enemy’s inexperience and Dale’s skill—neither could be lacking.

Moreover, unless using ‘Shadow Parasite,’ Dale’s Dead Man’s Disease isn’t automatic either.

Sword and necromancy. Even focusing all one’s strength on just one would be insufficient, yet the concentration Dale displayed was nothing short of astonishing.

An awe that could only be understood by those who, like Dale, claimed the title of necromancer.

At that point, victory or defeat was no longer even worth debating.

When every last skeleton and corpse at his disposal was completely exhausted and rendered useless. When the enemy forces finally met their annihilation.

Dale walked calmly alongside the army of the dead he commanded.

“Hee, heeek!”

Blades swung, shield magic activated, and the opponent’s life point necklace shattered. The ‘attacker’ Dale gained 1 life point.

A battle for life points.

A one-sided harvest of life points against test subjects who could no longer even resist.

“M-Master! Please, I beg you…!”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you’re actually dying.”

It wasn’t a battle. It was a monopoly. The word massacre fit perfectly.

Day by day, reaping the life points of the test subjects, Dale took a step forward. Wielding the blade of the white skeleton without a moment’s hesitation.

Finally, when the last test subject was left alone before Dale.

‘Monster brat…’

And in that very instant, as the bone blade swung toward him.

That was the pure admiration of Belik, the third-circle mage who faced Dale of Saxony, the prodigy of the Duke’s household.