Chapter 48

“It feels like I’m dreaming.”

Elizabeth, wrapped in sheets in the bedroom of ‘Blood-Red Ball’ Marquis Yuris, smiled. He was truly the ideal prince, as if drawn from a dream.

“Did you have a pleasant dream?”

To Elizabeth, whose cheeks flushed crimson, the Marquis of Yuris asked again. He sipped several mouthfuls of the blood-red wine held in his hand.

Elizabeth nodded, lost in rapture, and the Marquis of Yuris kissed her. Liquid flowed from mouth to mouth.

Blood-red wine…?

Just then, Elizabeth gasped at the foreign sensation in her mouth. It wasn’t the taste of wine.

“……!”

It was blood. Elizabeth spat out the blood she still held in her mouth. The white sheet wrapped around her became stained crimson.

“Oh, dear.”

Seeing this, the Marquis of Yuris smiled coldly.

“Didn’t the drink suit your taste?”

It was a smile so cold it sent shivers down your spine.

In a battle between knights and mages, distance is life.

But what Dale had just revealed through his Shadow Cloak… the Lake of Darkness, and the horrific creatures slumbering within it.

The thorny hell of the Shadow Lurker.

The advantage Dale’s shadow creatures held in close combat against the knight was something even Sir Helmut himself could scarcely imagine.

For the knight, who should gain an advantage as the distance closes, was walking into a death trap of his own accord.

Moreover, if we disregard the influence of ‘distance’ on combat, it goes without saying who would hold the advantage in a battle between a knight and a mage.

“Prince Dale has won!”

Amidst the soldiers shouting of Dale’s victory, Sir Helmut Blackbear thought to himself.

‘Did he choose the Shadow Cloak knowing this would happen from the start?’

Such an act is impossible without mastering one’s own capabilities, and furthermore, the principles of combat to the fullest extent. It is not even a matter of understanding or knowledge. It is mastery.

As if he were the god of battle himself.

From summoning the ‘Death Knight of the Black Sword’—a feat only possible for high-ranking dark mages—to possessing combat prowess sufficient to defeat an Orc Warlord single-handedly.

Based on unparalleled talent and growth speed in both sword and magic, unmatched by anyone in the empire…

‘The Master continues to evolve, evolution upon evolution.’

He compensates for his weaknesses and strengthens his strengths. All elements interlock, creating a near-perfect harmony.

He does not falter in physical combat against knights, nor does he falter in the battle of wits against mages.

Only then did Sir Helmut realize.

Dale pursued the most perfect form of combat.

From the very beginning, he envisioned facing the ‘strongest knights and mages,’ as if determined never to lose a single battle.

His talent for slaughter was so terrifying that even Sir Helmut Blackbear, the ‘Monster of Carnage’ who had reached the pinnacle of the continent’s seven strongest knights, the Seven Swords, could only be appalled.

And just who was that boy striving to reach, honing his combat skills so relentlessly?

Could any being truly withstand the hostility of the ‘Black Prince’?

After thinking it through, Lord Helmut quietly shook his head. For now, it was simply time to celebrate Dale’s victory.

The Great Demon Migration.

The battle concluded as they halted the massive southward advance of the orc hordes.

Though its scale could not compare to the armies of high-ranking demons or demon lords of old, defending the empire against thousands of orcs was by no means an easy task. Facing enemies bolstered by the ‘Twelve Purifiers’ was even more daunting.

The Saxon Duke’s Office.

“We extracted the Purifiers’ brains and completed the examination over three days and nights.”

Eris, the secretary of the Black Mage Tower, continued.

“Were there any other results?”

“We had already removed most of his brain functions, including the memory erasure spell.”

“I suppose so.”

The Black Mage nodded flatly, as if he had expected as much.

The fanaticism possessed by the Red Mage Tower’s dark mages was incomparable to anything found in the Five-Colored Mage Tower. After nodding, the Black Mage continued dispassionately.

“We knew beforehand that Dale would lead the cavalry and act independently.”

And that meant only one thing.

“An insider on our side must have issued specific orders to the Purifiers beforehand, including Dale’s movements.”

“Do you have any other theories?”

“They are monsters of truth.”

The Black Mage answered.

“…Are you suggesting the hardline elders of the Black Tower are colluding with the Red Tower?”

“Have you already forgotten the exploits of the Black-Red Instructional Corps?”

The Black-Red Instructional Corps. An unofficial unit established during the Empire’s Unification War between the Black and Red Magic Towers for ‘academic inquiry and cooperation’.

Although the unit was disbanded after the war and its records erased, the Black Magic Tower under the Black Mage system chose to sever ties with the ‘darkness of the old era’.

However, not everyone within the Black Tower agreed with his approach.

Though unable to openly refuse before the Black Duke, the hardliners—who even justified the unforgivable atrocities of the Black-Red Cult as part of the truth’s process—were precisely those monsters who rejected the Black Duke’s regime and allied with the Red Magic Tower.

“The winds of purging will blow once more.”

Eris, the Black Proxy, spoke calmly.

Remembering that the man before her could never escape that darkness either.

The Black Duke’s underground workshop.

The corpses of the Night Crow Knights, their physical forms perfectly preserved, lay there.

Even in death, they sought to fulfill their duty. Awaiting their turn to become part of the legacy built by generations of Saxon family heads.

Before those very knights’ corpses stood the father and son of the Saxon House.

“They were my knights.”

Dale’s knights. The Saxon swords Dale failed to protect.

“As their lord… I have a duty to honor their wishes.”

Therefore.

“Tell me how to raise the ‘Death Order’.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dale spoke.

The secret of the Saxon family in maintaining a Death Knight without a continuous supply of magic power.

But their true worth was not limited to that. Upon seeing their forms, Dale could intuitively grasp it. The fact that they were by no means ordinary Death Knights.

Each one was a high-ranking Death Knight possessing the caliber of ‘high knights’ like Sir Baskerville of the Veil and Sir Milbas of the Pure Sword.

“……”

The Black Duke did not respond immediately. He merely recalled the scene that day, before the Orc Warboss, when Dale had shown his true form… He recalled the landscape when Dale’s talent had once merged with the Black Magic Tower’s deep-rooted darkness.

When Dale later became another ‘Duke of Saxony’ in his stead and stood at the pinnacle of the Black Tower of Magic, how free could this child be from that darkness even he could not escape?

“When you grow up and surpass me…”

After pondering, the Black Duke spoke.

“When you reach the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower.”

As if to say the time was not yet right.

“This dark army will be yours alone.”

Understanding the meaning of those words, Dale swallowed softly.

The continent’s foremost dark mage, the one standing at the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower. To bring that very man down with my own hands.

At those words, Dale spoke up from where he stood. Unable to suppress his unbearable curiosity.

“…Father.”

“Why?”

“May I, here and now, dare to challenge my master to a duel?”

Because the wall of mystery surrounding the man before Dale, known as the ‘Black Mage,’ was too intriguing to bear.

“Very well.”

The Black Stone nodded quietly. When master and disciple gauge each other’s skill, there’s no method more certain than a duel.

“By what means shall we settle this?”

“Allow me to use my full power.”

Dale said, fluttering the ‘Shadow Cloak’ at his feet.

“Use all your strength.”

The Black Knight nodded.

“Rise, Black Swords of Saxony.”

Dale snapped his fingers. Reciting the optimal incantation to raise his Death Knights.

The knights who should have died reclaimed their knightly blades and rose as one. Grasping the pitch-black aura blades—the Black Swords of Saxony.

“Your command is remarkably precise.”

He painted the image clearly while giving the suggestion, neither too long nor too grandiose. Seeing this, the Black Mage could not hide his satisfaction as a teacher.

Death Knights surrounded him from all sides. Each one perfectly reflected Dale’s black magic, and even the very essence of the sword’s realm.

From the very blades of those knights, the might of the hero who had once defeated the Divine Sword began to unfold.

Simultaneously, Dale fluttered his shadow cloak and unleashed ‘Lake of Darkness’. A flood of shadows submerged the area, and following the waves beneath their feet, the ‘Shadow Lurkers’ simultaneously thrust their barbed tentacles downward.

Beneath the underground workshop, from all directions, deadly strikes poured down, targeting the Black Knight’s life. Without a shred of mercy or restraint.

It was at that very moment.

The world froze.

More precisely… the Black Knight’s black sword swung toward him and the Shadow Ruckers’ barbed tentacles froze solid in mid-air. After halting, they turned their muzzles of malice toward Dale right where they stood.

“…!”

The Death Knight, who should have carried out his command, and even the ‘Shadow Lurkers’ were no exception.

It was just like back then. Just as Dale had subdued the Headless Knight in the tower’s trial long ago, they bowed their heads before an even greater darkness.

“In a duel between dark mages, losing control of one’s creation is more deadly than anything else.”

The Black Mage continued dispassionately.

“……”

Therefore, Dale refocused his consciousness once more.

Recalling the void world filled with biting cold and ash-gray, he projected the dark-blue magic forged from the very darkness of that winter night.

The Death Knight’s black sword, which should have been frozen, finally began to move.

With immense effort and stiffness, yet undeniably, it aimed toward the ‘Black Mage’s neck’.

The Death Knight, controlled by the continent’s foremost dark mage, was once again brought under Dale’s command.

“……!”

Even the world’s most notorious black knight couldn’t hide his shock at that sight.

Whoosh!

With that gasp, the Death Knight’s black sword swung. The severed head rolled lifelessly across the floor. Silence settled like feathers. Yet within that silence, there was no sign of Dale being flustered.

“Truly astonishing.”

Sure enough, the severed head of the Black Knight, lying on the floor, opened its mouth.

“I never imagined you could reverse the control of the dead from me.”

Just like something out of a B-grade horror movie.

“It was truly an unexpected blow.”

With a master’s composure, he couldn’t hide his delight at his disciple’s progress. How on earth? Dale gasped in astonishment.

Somehow, the Black Knight’s neck had returned to its original position. As if the fact that his neck had been severed never existed from the start. It was just like before. Like when the Purifiers who had attacked Dale earlier were unable to die, even if they wanted to.

“How on earth…”

Realizing the truth, Dale asked again. A deception so profound even he, the world’s greatest, couldn’t grasp its logic. Deception? No.

This was not some petty trick, a mere deception.

‘Still don’t understand? That I haven’t granted you permission to die.’

After thinking that far, Dale gasped at one possibility.

‘Reality manipulation…?’

Magic is the power to turn imagination into reality. However, the human mind is profoundly imperfect; it is never omnipotent.

Nevertheless, for those who truly stand at the pinnacle of sorcery. For instance, a man hailed as the continent’s foremost dark mage—it might be possible for him to manipulate the very laws of this world by his own will.

For example, erasing the very concept of death itself.

Realizing that fact, Dale laughed hollowly. There was no way he could win. Even though he had become the empire’s foremost genius at a young age and achieved the impossible, it made no difference.

If the man before him gave his all, victory or defeat would be decided in an instant.

Just as the whispers of the ‘Black Prince’ suggested, the name of the man the empire feared most was no empty title.

Shortly thereafter, an envoy from the Emperor arrived to commend the House of Saxon for halting the great demon migration.

Alongside the golden gifts bestowed to display the empire’s majesty, we wish to formally commend the achievements of the ‘Black Prince,’ who, despite his young age, displayed brilliant valor in confronting the demonic migration.

Furthermore, to foster ‘exchange between black and red,’ an additional note expressed the desire to invite Dale for several weeks to the academy at the Red Demon Tower in the Imperial Capital.