Chapter 77. You listen very well, don't you?
Amidst the vast expanse of the Sea of Trees, dark clouds hung over the forest of trees, and a flash of light flickered.
Or rather, it was unjust.
Indeed, this was a magic that corrupted everything, a magic that should be forbidden.
The leaves that were illuminated by the light twisted grotesquely and melted into filth.
It contained a deep-seated malice.
A mire of evil emotions, indescribable by mere hostility, gathered there.
A single black mage observed the source of the magic.
Clearly, the magic had succeeded.
These were ascetics who had devoted their lives to learning forbidden magic, casting an extremely wicked spell.
Even he felt suffocated and disoriented by the aftermath.
A light flickered from the source of the light.
It was a terribly cold and blue light.
A hand shot out from the downpour!
Gripping his throat, it lifted him high.
Behind him, the black mage saw dense foliage and the sky between the trees.
Before he could wonder, he felt a suffocating sensation.
Only then did the black mage realize he had been slammed into the ground.
The sound of rain filled the Great Forest of Hameln, carrying the long echo of pain.
A terrible burning sensation started from the captured neck and filled his mind.
Indeed, the black mage was burning.
It was a truly bizarre sight.
Fiercely burning flames in the midst of a torrential downpour!
In this incongruous harmony, the black mages, without hesitation, prepared the next spell.
Those who would willingly give their lives to follow the command of the one they should follow, but naturally, they did not welcome death.
The first spell was a desire.
The envy and jealousy of the one who received the attention of the revered enlightened one, and the intense hatred and pure malice.
When the second spell was activated, the entire world was enveloped in a black fog.
If the first spell corrupted the body, this one twisted the mind, a wicked mental attack.
Another black mage closed his eyes.
The flames rose, but there was no scream like before.
Only a lifeless lump of meat burned.
The third spell was activated again.
Another black mage closed his eyes. No, he couldn't close his eyes.
He died with his upper body exploding from an unknown spell.
It was too small to be certain, but he felt he had seen something similar.
Again, a spell was manifested. Again, a spell was manifested. Again...
The black mage did not even realize he was dying.
He only saw the blue light fill his retina.
The black mage prepared for death. In return, he honed a deep-seated malice.
The malice was so sharp...
To the point of burning his soul to leave a curse.
As a corrupted soul faded, a deep curse clung to the target.
Another black mage closed his eyes.
His death was quite varied.
Thirteen black mages. Though they were simply called 'a black mage' without a name, their deaths were different.
There were comfortable deaths, and there were uncomfortable deaths.
Each time one of the thirteen spells prepared by the thirteen black mages was activated, a black mage lay on the ground.
During this time, a few curses that burned the soul.
A few forbidden spells filled with deep malice were also cast.
A single gold mage was there.
He was a transcendent who had shed the shackles of human limitations by learning forbidden magic, revered by all black mages as an enlightened one.
A pure evil, more wicked than the combined malice of the thirteen black mages, a terrifying being.
The smile revealed under the robe was incomparably benevolent.
Certainly, if it weren't for the dark robe, anyone would be captivated by his appearance, yet how could he bear such a sinister smile?
He could sense the message sent by someone as sinister as himself.
It was a kind of provocation.
The thirteen different and troublesome final moments were a kind of summons.
The gold mage suppressed his laughter.
For a moment, the only movement in the space was the pouring rain.
When the gold mage completely suppressed his laughter, the arrangement he had prepared unfolded.
It began with the corpses left by the thirteen black mages.
Through the great spell, dozens of souls that had dwelled in the thirteen black mages screamed and poured out.
The rain fell silent at the cries.
A spell that, through the medium of thirteen lives, unfolded, a magic that was inherently unjust.
A curse found in ancient ruins, considered taboo even in ancient times.
'The one who killed the thirteen sinners will bear all their sins.'
This magic was closer to a ritual that dealt with abstract concepts rather than a magic that operated on theory.
Therefore, this was not in the realm of magic.
A distorted power that could not be blocked by the principles of nature, the laws of mana and magic.
'Ten thousand diseases and ten thousand nightmares will cover the body at once, proportional to the magnitude of the sins of the thirteen.'
A certain gold mage who performed this magic recently left such a record.
An empire-recognized third-class mage instantly aged to an old man and died.
A certain archmage, though not swallowed by the curse, went into seclusion due to the aftermath.
Thus, although it was performed only twice, the effects were extremely satisfactory.
In Veloc's field of vision, a staggering figure appeared.
He seemed to be looking down at his hands in confusion, then clutched his left chest and staggered.
Clearly, the sins of the thirteen had been activated.
However, Veloc did not stop there.
"Open your eyes, loyal servant."
A low murmur directed at the black bracelet.
If he made a sound, the masked mage could pinpoint his location, but it no longer mattered.
The opponent was already in a state where he couldn't even move due to the 'sins of the thirteen.'
In any case, after a moment.
Black smoke emerged from the bracelet.
The smoke gathered, pulsing and changing in size, forming a specific shape.
The black smoke soon stopped changing.
The final form of the smoke was a knight in black armor.
Inside the empty armor, black smoke swirled.
Inside the helmet, a single ghostly flame glowed faintly.
However, this was not the same as the crude bodies created by mediocre black mages.
The material was that of a Master Knight, a knight at the pinnacle of his craft, melted down.
What it contained was not just the body.
A masterpiece created by the gold mage Solion, who had reached the rank of a transcendent necromancer.
Though it could not unleash its full power in life, the Death Knight was immune to death.
No fear, no joy, no sorrow, no anger, no love, no hate, no emotion at all.
Solion himself, when evaluating it, said that in terms of intricacy, it might even surpass a Master Knight in some aspects.
The voice, cut off abruptly, echoed in the helmet and then in Veloc's ear.
The gold mage raised a finger.
"Kill him. No, bring him back alive."
The soft sound of metal echoed through the Great Forest.
The rain had already stopped.
The dark clouds remained, but only a few drops clung to the leaves.
The gold mage, immensely pleased, leaned back and laughed heartily.
It might seem meaningless.
But Veloc was extremely satisfied.
It meant that his plan had worked well.
However, there was one thing that bothered him...
'After all, it's not entirely meaningless, is it?'
If the mage who had single-handedly suppressed an ancient being could withstand the 'sins of the thirteen' to some extent.
Though the curse was different from magic, the realm one reached brought more than just magical power.
For example, mental strength.
What mattered was that he was enjoying this moment.
The Death Knight, closing the distance, kicked off the ground and plunged his sword downward.
An unbelievable explosion and fragments of earth flying everywhere, as if created by the sword.
"Th, this... tin can! I told you not to kill him...!"
Veloc, who had been laughing heartily, suddenly burst into anger.
Perhaps, giving complex commands to an undead was too much?
Veloc suppressed a groan.
He had secretly learned and used the method to unlock it, so he couldn't complain to Solion.
However, it was not the time to simmer in anger.
The Death Knight, seemingly trying to leave no trace, continued to swing his sword.
Though obscured by the dust, the power was not trivial.
"This brat! Stop it right now! Stop! Stop, you brat!"
He hadn't even confirmed the face under the mask.
Of course, even if the body was intact, it was questionable whether he could recognize the face due to the 'sins of the thirteen'...
So, he couldn't see the pained expression!
In his urgent state, he shouted and tried to rush forward...
"I've got you, you little brat."
A figure burst through the dusty haze at that moment.
Startled, he tried to shout.
Veloc screamed as a rough hand grabbed his jaw.
Or rather, he tried to scream.
His mouth opened, but a hand gripped his tongue firmly.
Before he could finish his thought.
"U, u, u, ugh...! Ughhhhhh!"
Veloc let out a scream that seemed to tear him apart.
And a pair of eyes looked down at him.
The masked mage, who should have been reduced to pulp by the Death Knight, was the one looking down at him.
The masked mage looked down at Veloc and whispered in his ear.
"Your Death Knight is impressive. You listen very well, don't you?"
"If I hadn't told it to stop, it might have gone overboard. Thanks to you, it's easy, man."
Despite the situation, the voice was not only calm but also incredibly light.
A chill ran down Veloc's spine as he met those eyes.