Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

A shabby-looking man knocked on the gates of Ayaxen.

“Who are you? Identify yourself.”

He lifted his hood slightly, revealing a scarred face, likely from a burn. In stark contrast, his hair was a bright silver. If not for the disfigurement, his appearance would have been striking enough to charm many women.

“What are you staring at? Show me something to prove your identity.”

“What’s your name?”

“I asked for your name.”

The guard at the gate felt slightly intimidated by the man’s confident demeanor. Who could he be to carry himself so boldly?

“It’s Thomas.”

“Don’t you recognize your former superior?”

Mumbling, Thomas quickly stood at attention and saluted the man.

“Sorry, Commander Dominic! I didn’t recognize you!”

“At ease. I’m no longer a commander.”

Dominic accepted the salute with a gesture, then pulled his hood back down. With the hood covering his eyes and his head bowed, his face was barely visible. He patted the guard on the shoulder and walked through the gates into Ayaxen.

As Dominic entered the Marquis’s estate, more people began to recognize him. Ignoring the frequent salutes, he headed straight to the Marquis’s office, now ownerless.

Opening the door and surveying the room, he found a stranger seated inside.

“Who… who are you?”

Dominic looked around the office. All emblems of the Schiller Marquisate had been removed. It made sense; getting rid of the insignias of a traitorous noble family was prudent.

Was he angry? Not really. Dominic didn’t harbor any strong loyalty to Viktor von Schiller. He had simply worked like a dog, never disobeying the orders of his lord.

“Are you the newly appointed free lord?”

“Yes, but… who are you?”

The Schiller Marquisate’s lands had been divided among the prominent figures of each town. These new lords, known as “free lords” or “castle lords,” now held the power previously concentrated in the Marquis’s hands.

“My name is Dominic.”

“The Platinum Knight Dominic Schiller!”

Dominic shook his head.

“That name is no longer mine.”

Unlike typical rebels whose entire families and retainers were executed, the regent had granted a lenient punishment. Only the two principal Marquises were executed, while the rest were disarmed and either released or stripped of their titles and made freemen.

Thus, Dominic was no longer the commander of the Schiller Marquisate’s knights. If he wished, it wouldn’t be hard for him to secure a position in Ayaxen, but that wasn’t why he had come.

Dominic began to remove his armor.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

He removed his breastplate, surcoat, knee guards, and elbow guards. Each piece was a valuable artifact imbued with anti-magic spells.

Finally, he placed down a platinum-hilted sword, broken in half. It was his cherished weapon, a symbol of Dominic himself. Now, Dominic was left only in light clothes and the hood he had pulled over his head.

“These were items bestowed upon me by Marquis Schiller. I’ve come to return them.”

The free lord stared at him blankly.

“With this, my duties are fulfilled. I will take my leave.”

Turning around, Dominic left the mansion without hesitation and headed towards the plaza of Ayaxen. He remembered a blacksmith’s shop he had frequented during his tenure.

“Is the owner in?”

“Who’s asking?”

“It’s me.”

Dominic lifted his hood slightly to reveal his face. The taciturn middle-aged blacksmith glanced at him before returning his gaze to the sword he was refining.

“The former commander, I see.”

“How did you know?”

“People have a certain presence. Even if the face changes or wears a mask, I remember that presence.”

Recognizing him made the conversation easier.

“I’d like to buy a sword.”

“Pick one that suits you.”

Though his tone was somewhat arrogant for a commoner, Dominic no longer cared about such things. He examined the weapons on display, all of excellent quality.

He picked up an ordinary arming sword, devoid of any decoration or special features. He swung it once, ending his deliberation.

‘A good sword.’

It wasn’t as magnificent as the platinum-hilted sword the Marquis had given him, but that sword was no longer his. Dominic recalled that before he was known as the Platinum Knight, he had defeated many enemies with a simple, rugged sword. It felt like both a distant memory and a vivid one from just yesterday.

“How much is it?”

“Ten Florin silver coins.”

“Only ten coins? It’s worth a gold coin.”

“I don’t inflate prices like a merchant.”

The blacksmith’s stubborn response pleased Dominic. He placed a Florin gold coin on the anvil.

“Keep the change. I don’t carry silver coins. They’re too heavy.”

The blacksmith chuckled at that.

After leaving the blacksmith’s shop, Dominic bought a mask nearby to cover his face discreetly. Then, without looking back, he left Ayaxen. The guard, Thomas, did not recognize him as he exited the city.

Dominic resolved never to return to Ayaxen. With a single sword in hand, he became a wandering knight.

***

“I got it, but now what?”

Regent Charlotte wasted no time in fulfilling Binaeril’s request. With her fiery personality, she fetched the scepter from the royal treasury while still in her nightclothes.

– Break the joint.

“What? Is that okay?”

The scepter was constructed with an ivory bottom and a golden top, joined at the center.

– The page is inside.

Binaeril grasped the middle of the scepter, feeling like he was committing a grave offense, and snapped it with force. The inside of the scepter was hollow, like bamboo, and inside was a rolled-up bundle of paper.

– That’s it!

Binaeril unfolded the old, decayed bundle of paper to examine its contents. But he couldn’t make sense of it. The paper had some writing on it, but it was in a language he couldn’t recognize. In fact, it seemed like no one could decipher it. The writing looked like a child’s scribbles, crooked and disjointed.

– Found it!

Veritas’s triumphant voice echoed.

“Uh… what does this mean?”

The Book of Truth didn’t respond, instead opening its mouth wide like a yawning beast. A powerful suction emerged from the open pages, pulling in everything around it. The decayed paper Binaeril was holding was sucked in, and so was Binaeril himself.

“Ugh, ahhh!”

The Book of Truth, having swallowed the paper and Binaeril, fell silently onto the bed. Binaeril, having landed hard on his backside, rubbed his tailbone.

“Damn Veritas, pulling stunts like this without any warning.”

He had been swallowed along with the page. 

“Where am I?”

Though the space was unfamiliar, he quickly realized where he was: the secret place in the Grand Library where he had first met Veritas. Binaeril had landed at the entrance of the secret area, a long corridor with bookshelves lined up like toy soldiers on either side. Knowing that staying put wouldn’t help, he stood up and started walking down the corridor.

The central chamber was exactly as he remembered it: a descending concentric circle leading to a central lectern. The only difference was that now a boy was sitting on the lectern.

“Hello!”

Veritas greeted him cheerfully, clearly in a good mood. With curly black hair and mischievous eyes, he looked slightly smaller than before. Or maybe Binaeril had grown.

“Let me out.”

“Can’t you at least greet me warmly since it’s been a while?”

“We’re together all the time. Why did you swallow me? You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I needed a quiet place to talk.”

Binaeril grumbled. Being swallowed by the Book of Truth was never a pleasant experience.

“Listen carefully, Binaeril. Since meeting Priya in Thornwinter Swamp, you’ve made significant progress as a mage.”

Previously, he had been a half-baked mage relying on Veritas’s power. But now, he could hold his own without help.

“Compared to when you were a fledgling chick, now you’re almost a proper person.”

“…Is that supposed to be a compliment? It feels more like an insult.”

“What it means is that my influence over you has diminished.”

“Your influence has diminished?”

“Your innate magical powers have begun to unconsciously resist my influence. I can no longer read all your thoughts and emotions like before.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

“I also have some bad news. As you grow stronger, the amount of power you can draw from me will diminish.”

When Binaeril borrowed Veritas’s power, he could wield magic that was one or two tiers higher than his own capabilities. Currently, Binaeril was at the cusp of Tier 3. Considering that it typically took an average mage over a decade to advance a single tier, his progress was remarkable.

“It’s called power balance.”

“Power… what?”

“It’s a thing.”

Binaeril recalled that since mastering the Magic Bullet, his dependency on Veritas had significantly decreased. The Magic Bullet didn’t require much power and was sufficient for most human adversaries without needing grandiose spells.

“Alright, fine. This means we’ve recovered the second page, right?”

“You didn’t give me one of them.”

So far, they had recovered two pages: one embedded in the ring Binaeril wore and the parchment hidden in the scepter.

“I’ll give you the ring later. Eden is embedded in it, so I can’t just feed it to you.”

“Fine. Anyway, the item we recovered this time is valuable. It’s a map.”

“A map?”

Veritas held the old parchment that had been inside the scepter.

“This will help us find the locations of the other pages.”

“Once we gather all the pages, the contract ends, right?”

“Oh, and there’s one more condition you promised, isn’t there?”

Veritas smiled, lying on his back on the lectern.

“That’s why I called you here.”

“You promised to answer one question, no matter what it was.”

He nodded.

Binaeril had his question prepared. It was something he should have asked when he first met Veritas. He asked,

“What exactly are these pages, these fragments, you refer to?”

Veritas’s expression suggested he had expected this question.