Chapter 8

At dawn, a wooden sword swung right before his eyes, slicing through the chilly wind.

The training grounds of the vassal knights at Saxony Castle.

Dale parried the blade of the knight-in-training swung at him. Instantly deflecting the blade outward from the center, he plunged forward, driving his torso down toward the hilt.

Thud!

Simultaneously with the strike, the wooden sword in Dale’s hand was already aimed at the knight’s throat.

The outcome was decided in just a few exchanges.

‘Whoa!’

Sir Helmut gasped in astonishment at the sight. Even the knights of the duke’s household watching the duel were no exception.

Dale’s opponent, though only an Esquire who had not yet received formal knighthood, did not diminish the value of Dale’s victory in the slightest.

His opponent, now nineteen, came from a knightly house and had walked the path of the sword his entire life. A young knight who was soon to be formally knighted in the name of the Duke of Saxony. He had been defeated by a mere nine-year-old child.

To a mage who had no intention of walking the path of the sword at all!

“Well done, Dale.”

Yet no one, including Helmut, blamed the squire who had lost to Dale.

“It’s not your inexperience. Don’t blame yourself.”

“……Understood.”

The defeated knight, too, pushed aside the bitterness in his heart and accepted the inescapable reality.

What good would it do to feel wronged?

The world is not fair. The Duke’s prodigy, Dale of Saxony, was the living embodiment of that very ‘unfairness’.

Dale, who had shown extraordinary talent with the sword since around the age of eight, grew at a truly astonishing rate. By the time he turned nine, he had even mastered his own unique sword style.

A swift sword befitting a small frame.

It was a sword that understood its own situation with astonishingly cold clarity. It was as if a swordsman of the highest caliber had entered the body of a child.

“Uncle Helmut, who’s next?”

Dale gripped his wooden sword tighter and asked again. Helmut burst into hearty laughter at the audacity.

“How about the Seven Swords of this continent next!”

“Sounds good!”

Just as Lord Helmut spoke and began to rise,

“Dale.”

A voice calling his name echoed from beyond the white marble corridor.

“Your Grace, I humbly greet you!”

As soon as the voice was heard, the surrounding knights simultaneously knelt and paid their respects. Dale turned his head. There stood Dale’s father, the Duke of Saxony.

“Father?”

“Were you practicing swordsmanship here?”

The Black Duke asked, crossing the corridor’s pillars.

“Yes.”

It was well known that, apart from his path in magic, Dale never neglected his sword training.

“It is truly a sight to behold, seeing you so devoted to your training.”

Watching him, the Black Duke did not hide his fatherly pride.

“But let us end your sword training for today.”

After speaking, he continues with a rather serious expression.

“There’s something I want to show you.”

“I understand, Father.”

Dale nodded silently.

“Unfortunately, the showdown with Uncle Helmut will have to be postponed.”

“Haha, I’ll look forward to that day!”

Dale let go of the wooden sword in his hand, looking disappointed. Helmut laughed heartily as usual, then quietly bowed toward the father and son as they walked away.

“There’s something I want to show you.” After saying that, the place Dale’s father headed for was the magic workshop deep within the duke’s castle.

And there, an unexpected face was waiting.

“You’re here, Dale.”

“Teacher Sepia?”

It was Sepia, Dale’s tutor, the 6th Circle elf mage, and elder of the Blue Tower.

“Follow me.”

Watching the two mentors stride straight across the workshop, Dale too sensed the unusual atmosphere and kept his mouth shut.

‘What’s going on all of a sudden?’

The Black Orb pointed toward the far end of the workshop, specifically a passage leading from the far end’s basement into an even deeper, darker underground.

Dale silently followed behind.

And the moment I stepped beyond that passageway, an ominous chill swept through my entire body without warning. It was a secret chamber, layered with formidable barriers that no ordinary mage would dare approach.

Lining the walls in every direction were equipment overflowing like an armory.

The moment he saw it, Dale knew instinctively. The things here were far from ordinary equipment.

Each piece possessed powerful magic—dark and ominous magic.

‘Artifacts of the Demon King’s Command…!’

Just as Dale couldn’t hide his interest and was about to step forward.

“Don’t touch it carelessly.”

A sharp voice stopped Dale in his tracks.

“These are artifacts imbued with powerful dark energy.”

Crossing the room, the black-robed figure continued.

“We Saxons have handled and controlled this cursed power for generations.”

A forbidden power that inspires both fear and reverence.

“To protect our land and people from our enemies.”

Not even necromancy or dark magic are exceptions.

“Therefore, as the eldest son of the duke’s house, it is also a power you must bear.”

“What do you mean?”

“Soon, we will muster troops to subdue the orc hordes stirring in the Demon King’s Realm.”

The Black Duke continued.

“And before that, you too will join me.”

“……!”

Only then did Dale finally grasp the situation.

“I too will join the battle with my father…!”

The Duke of Saxony nodded quietly.

“Therefore, before departure, you will first learn how to control the dark power present here.”

In other words, the weapons here were prepared for Dale.

Accepting and adapting to the power of the artifact is never something that happens overnight.

“Don’t worry too much, Dale.”

After saying that much, Sepia, who had been silent, spoke up.

“I too will do my utmost to help you.”

In an exceptionally gentle voice.

“……”

Dale’s gaze immediately turned toward the artifact display case. Where swords and suspicious books, helmets and armor, all manner of equipment were lined up in rows.

‘This is it!’

For a moment, something intensely captured Dale’s gaze. At first glance, it was an unremarkable black cloak. But how could he forget?

The shadows that should have been cast beneath the cloak were writhing like living creatures.

‘Shadow Cloak.’

It was the equipment of a high-ranking demon lord Dale had faced in the past, when he was a hero of another realm.

The Demon General of the Demon King’s Realm, the Illusion Duke Verka. It was his cherished artifact, a top-tier relic that imbued shadows with substance, enabling the art of unifying attack and defense.

For Dale, who wielded both magic and sword, it was truly the optimal equipment.

‘An unexpected big fish had taken the bait.’

That’s why Dale didn’t hesitate. Ignoring his father’s warning, he reached out and snatched the Shadow Cloak.

Purely driven by the craving for power itself. Like a child who thinks only of the moment.

“Dale!”

The moment he snatched it, the Black Orb’s horror followed.

Artifacts possess immense power in themselves, yet simultaneously impose a tremendous burden on their users. Especially those fueled by the power of darkness are so dangerous that merely touching them can lead to death.

Even the Duke of Saxony wouldn’t demand such cruel suffering from a nine-year-old child.

What the Black Duke intended to give him in the first place was likely something befitting a nine-year-old child, even considering Dale’s genius. At most, it would be a level where he could summon a low-grade dark spirit to protect himself in an emergency.

But what Dale chose was a high-level artifact incomparable to any ‘low-grade dark spirit’. Without hesitation, he snatched the Shadow Cloak and wrapped it around his body.

Darkness enveloped him.

The shadows beneath the cloak began to writhe again like living creatures, terrifyingly encircling him. Like a swarm of piranhas drawn by the scent of blood.

These were no ordinary shadows.

“Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!”

Malicious, living shadows. A fate where one becomes prey to starving shadows, leaving not a single bone behind.

That was the horrific future that flashed through Black Ball and Sepia’s minds in an instant.

Therefore, just as the two were about to hastily cast a spell to protect Dale, he calmly reached out his hand and stopped them. Ignoring the endless echoes of the shadows’ hallucinations ringing in his ears.

“There’s no need to worry.”

Dale said. His voice betrayed not a hint of hesitation or agitation. He commanded the shadows that had been raging madly at his feet just moments before into submission.

Indeed. The shadows that had been violently convulsing just moments before now stood utterly still, not even twitching. As if bowing their heads before an unchallengeable presence.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

At Dale’s words, both of them froze for a moment.

“How on earth──.”

It was an unbelievable sight. The Black Ball watched, swallowing in shock. Its expression was one of utter horror, unlike anything seen before.

“I-isn’t it painful?”

At Sepia’s cautious concern, Dale gave a wry smile.

“Just a little.”

The intense malevolence that rushed toward him the moment he wrapped his cloak around himself.

This is the dark power the Saxon family must bear. And it is the Saxon family’s destiny to endure this malice, to properly control and guide that power.

It would be difficult for an ordinary mind to even bear it. And the moment one succumbs to this malice, the user becomes prey to these shadows.

Artifacts are like greedy creatures; they never grant power without demanding a price. Those fueled by the power of darkness are especially vile in nature. But in the end, that was all it was.

“Just a little… it stings, doesn’t it?”

Yet the shadows rippling beneath my feet are ecstatic, as if paying homage to a new master.

“I’m perfectly fine, though.”

Dale answered in his usual unwavering voice.

This is all it takes.

He had spent his entire life battling monsters on battlefields where bullets rained down for humanity. Then, bred as the empire’s hound, he slaughtered countless monstrous beings and the ‘enemies of the empire’.

Compared to the malice that had defined Dale’s entire existence, the malice of these shadows was nothing more than a pinprick.

“Can I try on more of the things here?”

Dale’s eyes sparkled with childlike innocence as he spoke. After all, there was still an endless array of equipment to test.