Chapter 647: Story (1)
Black magic, as a field of study, was fundamentally regarded with aversion.
The first reason stemmed from its origin: black magic had developed as a derivative of conventional magic, casting it in an inferior light.
The second reason lay within the nature of the field itself.
Black magic used people as its primary resource.
This was no metaphor.
Emotions, life force, body parts, organs, and even entire corpses—black magic used people as raw materials.
As a result, most people harbored a low opinion of black magic, associating its practitioners with isolated, unsettling existences in desolate places.
Ironically, however, black magicians often settled not in remote areas but in bustling cities, especially large metropolises.
As previously mentioned, black magic required human resources, and the densest population centers were the cities.
Thus, despite its nature, black magicians usually resided in urban areas.
That said, if one were to ask whether there were no black magicians outside of cities, the answer would still be no.
There were exceptions to everything.
One such exception was the central continent.
Despite having less industrial development and fewer cities than the United Kingdom or Gallos, the central continent had an unusually high number of black magicians.
This was despite the fact that the environment here was ill-suited to their activities.
The reason was simple: there were fewer magicians or authorities capable of suppressing black magic.
For centuries, the central continent had remained fragmented, due to the influence of the Pied Piper, a figure who roamed the land, abducting children. With its magic-users mostly having left, black magicians filled the resulting void.
In this barren land, black magic—a discipline suited to those on society's fringes—could grow more freely.
An almost comedic situation.
Yet, a question would naturally arise.
Did the black magicians of the central continent lack the skill of their counterparts in the major cities of the United Kingdom and Gallos?
Oliver’s answer was simple.
No.
...
“Uwaaaaah!”
“Aaaargh!”
“Screeeeech!!!”
Watching the distant battlefield, Oliver pondered the scene alongside Pandora and the Blind Old Woman.
The golem, a massive construct of numerous corpses bound together, charged forward, its immense weight smashing into a military unit equipped with machine guns.
Hundreds of bullets at a time poured into the golem, yet it did not stop, plowing through soldiers, some of whom were flung aside or crushed into unrecognizable chunks of flesh.
In one devastating strike, the soldiers’ ranks collapsed.
Taking advantage of the chaos, agile corpse puppets and wolf zombies darted in, expanding the devastation.
Bang! Bang!
At that moment, a burst of magical light flashed from the distant forest, and a gigantic ball of fire arced across the sky before crashing into the horde of zombies.
The fireball landed with a violent tremor, surging upward in a fiery explosion. In an instant, the zombies were reduced to ashes.
“Out of the way! The village is on fire!”
Amid the sudden barrage, the black magicians faltered, and a voice rang out.
A disease-type black magician led a group of other black magicians, casting disease magic upon one another.
As life force and emotions surged through their bodies, their skin darkened to a reddish hue, and their muscles and bones swelled, transforming them into giants.
In this form, the black magicians began overturning soil to smother the flames.
Ssss...
The wave of earth weakened the blaze noticeably.
But just as a renewed burst of magical light prepared to flash from the forest, a massive black projectile plummeted down onto it.
The fire-type black magicians had countered, their spell triggering an explosion that engulfed the forest.
For a brief moment, Oliver understood why neighboring kingdoms felt threatened by black magicians.
Such power would pose a severe threat to small, city-less kingdoms.
After all, the central continent’s security had notably worsened following the disappearance of the Flesh Chef, creating an opening for black magicians to flood in.
With the loss of artillery support, the soldiers’ morale visibly waned, causing them to retreat, while the black magicians, swollen like giants or transformed into beastly forms, charged forward with relentless momentum.
Oliver watched from afar and asked,
“So, the first attackers were... the black magicians?”
“Yes... Although it was sudden, with Archpriest Roderick leading paladins and soldiers against them, things are getting dire.”
The implication was clear: if more blood was shed, it would be impossible to reverse the situation.
Oliver agreed.
Proof of this came as a brilliant yellow light flared from the forest, the screams of black magicians piercing the air, severed limbs scattering around them.
Paladins, who had been lying in wait in the forest, finally moved.
In tight formation, they charged forward, bypassing fleeing soldiers to strike at the advancing black magicians with holy light–infused swords.
Shhhhk!
As the twenty swords moved in unison, the black magicians, who had surged forward like a tidal wave, were halted and began to be pushed back.
“Advance.”
The twenty paladins moved forward steadily, and witnessing this, the black magicians responded by launching fire-type black magic, hurling countless projectiles towards the paladins’ heads and fronts.
But the attacks melted like snow before the holy light.
The black magicians were stunned by how easily their black magic was neutralized.
A few refugees, who appeared to have taken up arms and joined in, tried to add their firepower, but it was futile.
Ordinary bullets couldn’t pierce the paladins’ holy-light–reinforced coats, and magic-infused rounds of lightning, flame, and poison lost most of their potency against the paladins, failing to deliver any substantial impact.
Knowing this, the paladins kept their formation, advancing slowly and steadily under the barrage, slicing down any black magicians or refugees they encountered.
“The only difference here is numbers. They’re no match at all…”
Oliver realized the reality once more.
After all, Armand hadn’t sought Oliver’s help due to a lack of power but because he’d deemed it inefficient to hunt down every black magician in Gallos one by one.
And then, naturally, a question arose.
Surely the central continent’s black magicians understood this, too.
They must have known that clustering together was dangerous against paladins and that scattering would be safer.
“So why did they group together in the first place?”
Oliver had finally arrived at the question he should have asked from the start.
He’d let it slide upon hearing that the Pied Piper had resumed his activities and caused the political situation to become chaotic, but it was still strange.
Even in dire situations, they should have known better.
Oliver belatedly pondered this point when Pandora tugged at his sleeve.
“Father, we’re completely surrounded here as well. If you’re going to act, you should move now.”
He understood what she meant.
Through the eyes of the black magicians, Oliver had already assessed the situation.
Currently, the black magicians and refugees occupying this area were surrounded on all sides by paladins in groups of twenty, forming an impenetrable perimeter.
The encirclement wasn’t so dense as to be unbreakable, but given the paladins’ prowess, it was unlikely to be breached.
If anything, there was a greater chance of the besieged individuals being trampled and crushed.
Like the women and children now being trampled under the feet of the fleeing crowd.
A troublesome predicament.
The scale of the conflict had grown too large to be calmed with words.
Even someone as oblivious as Oliver could see that.
The only way to subdue this chaos would be to deploy a force even stronger than the paladins.
However, Oliver had no desire to do so.
“If this goes on… many will die.”
Watching the refugees trampled underfoot by fleeing black magicians, Pandora murmured.
“Do you know them?”
“They’re people I traveled here with. Yes, I know them.”
Oliver read her emotions as she replied.
Sadness, regret, and a deep sense of sorrow.
If the paladins lurking around began to move en masse, the damage would be immeasurable.
After a long moment of thought, Oliver turned to the Blind Old Woman.
“... Elder.”
“Yes…?”
“Is your answer still the same as before?”
Would she still try to persuade them even though it might lead to her own capture?
The old woman nodded.
“Of course.”
“That’s good.”
...
Shrieeek… Kraaang!
A beast covered in black fur lunged forward, letting out a horrific cry, but the paladin cut it down with a single, holy light–infused strike, the creature emitting a pitiful shriek as it collapsed.
Its bisected body flopped to the ground before reverting to its human form.
The paladin cast a brief, disdainful glance before continuing his advance with the other paladins.
“Why was this left unchecked?”
The paladin pondered, despite being engaged in battle.
Though the overwhelming difference in power had made them overconfident, he still found the situation puzzling.
The vast size, rugged terrain, and difficult transport routes made it challenging for the paladins to patrol the central continent effectively—not because black magicians were inherently powerful.
To the paladins, black magic posed little threat.
In numbers, however, black magicians gathered like this could be bothersome.
A pest’s difficulty lay not in its strength but in knowing where it hid.
And yet, Archpriest Roderick had merely set up an encirclement without engaging prematurely, even involving a controversial figure from the Pater Church.
There must be some deeper reason, but dissatisfaction remained.
In any case, after a sudden order for all forces to assemble, they had learned that the black magician had acted on his own accord and now, at last, the long-awaited command to attack had been given.
Whether this was due to Roderick’s plan or mere coincidence, it presented a perfect opportunity, one the paladin intended to seize to eradicate the black magicians completely.
For the Father above, to rid the world of these impure beings…
As he prepared to swing his blade once more, a strange aura emerged from afar.
A black, dense substance, like erupting pitch, surged upward.
The eerie sight stopped both the black magicians and paladins in their tracks, and as if waiting for this precise moment, monstrous figures began to pour forth from within the darkness.
There were toy soldiers carved from wood, nutcracker dolls, clowns wielding scythes, enormous bear dolls, old men with burlap sacks, giants with stag heads, and monkeys clasping cymbals.
It was as if someone had twisted a child’s imagination and nightmares into disturbing creatures.
At first, the paladins thought this might be a last-ditch effort by the black magicians.
But it didn’t matter. Black magic was still just black magic.
The paladins activated their holy powers as usual, wielding the sacred force that banishes all impurity.
As the holy light shone, darkness dissipated, and all sinister things...
“...What?”
...
“What is this?!”
A black magician who had been fleeing the paladins shouted as he was pinned down by one of the creatures.
He wasn’t the only one.
Throughout the chaotic crowd, where black magicians and refugees alike were trying to escape, pitch-dark creatures continued to erupt, bringing forth even more of these strange monsters.
Some black magicians thought that a hidden ally had finally unleashed a trump card, but no sooner had they thought that than the paladins retaliated with holy magic.
This absolute, irrational power neutralized all black magic and magic alike.
But strangely, the creatures weren’t dispelled. They stood firm, untouched.
Both the paladins and black magicians felt a rush of contrasting emotions.
Whatever these creatures were, they seemed immune to holy magic.
In that moment, hope surged among the black magicians. If these creatures could counter the paladins, they might have a chance.
However, as some black magicians attempted to adjust their plans, the creatures turned and charged at them instead of the paladins.
They struck with their weapons, stomped with hoof-like hands, and pressed scythes to throats.
Thanks to their strategic positioning, numbers, and swiftness, the creatures quickly overpowered hundreds of black magicians who could do little to resist.
It was a baffling scene, beyond comprehension.
Then, from amidst the chaos, a figure walked forward, calm and unhurried.
A gaunt face, an arm wrapped in bandages, a quarterstaff that clicked with each step.
“D-Dave...?”
“The new finger.”
“Dave.”
“The Woodcutter Dave…!”
Murmurs spread among those who recognized him. Gradually, all eyes, whether black magicians or paladins, shifted to Oliver.
Oliver continued summoning creatures from his shadow, advancing until he stopped between the black magicians and paladins.
“Is Archpriest Roderick present?”
Oliver’s voice rang out clearly, despite its lack of volume, resonating with a firm authority.
The attention of everyone fixed on him moved instinctively toward the forest. Soon after, a towering middle-aged man emerged slowly from the shadows.
“Ah, so you were here after all. Why are you here? I was worried, thinking you’d been abducted by black magicians.”
Archpriest Roderick’s words, though spoken with concern, carried no sincerity.
Oliver, however, was well aware of this and simply responded,
“Thank you for your concern, Your Excellency. I wasn’t abducted, so there’s no need to worry.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
“I came to persuade the black magicians to surrender to the Pater Church peacefully. And I succeeded.”
Oliver gestured to the Blind Old Woman beside him.
Some black magicians seemed ready to speak up, but the creatures around them growled, silencing them.
“We seek mercy from the Pater Church. We will comply with any demands you make, just please spare us,” the Blind Old Woman said, fulfilling her promise to Oliver.
Leaving the decision to the Pater Church, she pleaded for mercy.
It was a sudden and delicate situation, but Roderick displayed no sign of hesitation, only a glimmer of curiosity and ambition.
“You know this wasn’t the purpose I had in mind?”
“You said we could discuss it later, just as we did in Gallos.”
“Yes, I did say that, but don’t you think it’s a bit late for discussion now?”
Roderick reaffirmed his position. Oliver approached him.
Several paladins tried to block Oliver, but Roderick held them back.
Oliver stopped in front of Archpriest Roderick.
“Wouldn’t it be wise to discuss it now?”
“What if I refuse?” Roderick asked with a hint of amusement.
“That would be... difficult.”
“But it’s not like breaking your promise with the black magicians would be a problem for you, is it?”
“No, not for me. But it would be a problem for Your Excellency, for the paladins, and for the Pater Church.”
“Oh... And why is that?”
“If so many paladins were held back by a single black magician, it would tarnish the Church’s honor and Your Excellency’s reputation. That would not be good for your rule, would it?”