Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“Binaeril Dalheim. The Duke’s guest and a mage from Elfenbine.”

The self-introduction, so confidently delivered, left the lord and the dark mages speechless. They all shared a common thought: ‘Is this guy crazy?’ 

He looked too young to be claiming to be a mage, almost childlike. Moreover, he was alone. One of the dark mages pointed at Binaeril and looked back at the lord, who nodded vigorously, confirming that this was indeed the mage he had mentioned.

“Are you really a mage?” 

“Who are you?” Binaeril responded.

The dark mage who had pointed at him kicked aside the corpse of his comrade. None of them had heard any chanting. Skipping incantations was something only accomplished mages could do, yet the boy before them was too young. They concluded Binaeril was a fraud.

“Doesn’t matter. We don’t care how you did it, but you’re a fake.”

“Lord Paguin, who are these people?” Binaeril asked, but the lord ignored him and addressed the dark mages instead.

“We need to kill him before the Duke wakes. Quietly.”

“We know. Lord, are you sure this boy is a real mage? He doesn’t look like one.”

“You saw one of our comrades’ heads explode!”

“He must have used some trick.”

They were underestimating Binaeril. He noticed glimpses of their faces under the hoods and recognized a familiar tattoo—a dark, ominous mark he had seen on goblins before.

“Are you dark mages?”

Some of them flinched at his words.

“Lord, have you been working with dark mages to kidnap the villagers?” 

Lord Paguin turned pale, almost choking on his own breath.

“Kill him! Now!”

His reaction confirmed Binaeril’s suspicions. The dark mages began chanting attack spells. To Binaeril, their magic was crude and poorly executed. Without needing to chant himself, he entrusted his defense to Eden.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Is he a spirit mage?” someone shouted, recognizing the faint form of Eden.

“Be careful, he’s a spirit mage!”

Just as he had felt when fighting goblins, these dark mages had a weak foundation. They barely mimicked first-tier spells, showing little real power.

“Restrain him.”

Binaeril used shadows to bind the nearest dark mage, then aimed his magic bullet at his head. The dark mages now realized he wasn’t an easy target.

“Use the black arts!”

One of them pulled out a vial and drank it, another cut his own arm to draw blood, and another brought out a straw doll. Watching these peculiar actions, Binaeril was certain.

“So, you are dark mages.”

Lord Paguin was blatantly siding with them. Confirming his suspicions, Binaeril drew more mana.

Meanwhile, Vivian had finished her bath and was wandering around Paguin Castle.

‘What is Sir Binaeril up to?’ Vivian thought as she wandered with purpose. She had been lingering near Binaeril’s quarters for ten minutes. Imagining a chance encounter in the corridor where she could finish their conversation from earlier, she found no such luck. His room was completely silent.

“Where did he go now? Could it be?” Vivian suspected the knights.

“They wouldn’t be sparring this late, would they?” She thought she heard faint sounds of fighting somewhere. Vivian considered returning to her room but noticed the lord’s door open. From within, she heard muffled sounds of combat.

“Are they sparring in there?” she wondered, exasperated with the endless duels. “This has to stop.” She decided to head down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Binaeril had taken down two dark mages, leaving three. One of them, having consumed a potion, began to grow larger.

‘This one has abilities similar to goblin,’ Binaeril thought, nicknaming him the “Junkie” in his mind. The Junkie charged at him like a beast.

“Heh, you’re dead now, kid!”

Binaeril caught the charging Junkie’s arm. “Strength of a berserker in both arms!” he chanted, engaging in a test of strength. Muscles bulged on the Junkie, looking like they might burst. However, the power he felt was unimpressive compared to the goblins.

“What’s this? All show and no go?”

A vein popped on the Junkie’s forehead as he and Binaeril struggled. Meanwhile,

Swish!

Blood-red arrows shot from another direction. They came from the dark mage who had cut his own arm earlier—using blood magic. 

‘Blood magic?’

Binaeril pushed the Junkie away and deployed a shield. The blood arrows shattered harmlessly against it. Binaeril was convinced.

‘These dark mages are weaker than the goblin.’

He decided to let Eden handle the defense. Pointing his finger at the Junkie, he began to chant the spell for his magic bullet. The Junkie raised his arms to block, but the magic bullet hit his forearms, exploding with a loud bang. The Junkie was thrown back, engulfed in dust.

“He’s a mage! This guy isn’t just a spirit mage! He can handle both spirits and magic!” the Junkie shouted.

“I saw it too,” replied the blood mage, whom Binaeril dubbed the “Bleeder.” The Bleeder prepared another volley of blood arrows. It seemed their strategy was for the Junkie to take the hits while the Bleeder attacked from behind.

Vivian, now determined, walked briskly towards the sound of the battle, her heart pounding with a mixture of worry and resolve.

‘Not going to happen.’

Binaeril aimed his magic bullet at the Bleeder. 

“Eek!”

Seeing Binaeril’s finger point at him, the Bleeder canceled his spell and dove to the ground. He was more cowardly than he appeared. Binaeril’s magic bullet whizzed past his head.

“Hey! Provide proper support!” the Junkie shouted.

“You need to block properly first!” the Bleeder retorted.

Their brief exchange made it clear they weren’t well-coordinated. But there was still one dark mage who hadn’t joined the fight yet—the one with the straw doll, exuding an ominous presence.

“Take this!” The Junkie extended his arm, attacking Binaeril with a long reach. It was a familiar tactic, similar to the goblins’ fighting style.

Binaeril aimed his magic bullet at the Junkie, ready to counter, but suddenly, his body wouldn’t move. He felt an unseen force gripping his limbs tightly. The Junkie laughed maniacally, noticing Binaeril’s struggle.

“Looks like the curse has finally taken hold!” the man with the straw doll, the Cursed Mage, chuckled lowly, mocking Binaeril.

‘It’s him,’ Binaeril realized. The last mage was a curse user.

The Junkie’s punch was about to land on Binaeril, but he had a hidden advantage. The punch halted inches from his face, stopped by the small figure of Eden, the spirit. 

“Argh!”

The Junkie’s face turned red with frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t overcome Eden’s strength. Meanwhile, Binaeril sensed the magical forces binding him. Any form of magic, whether dark or not, couldn’t hold a person with strong mental resistance for long, especially not from a weaker dark mage.

Binaeril released a burst of mana, breaking the curse. The Cursed Mage’s straw doll disintegrated in his grasp.

“What kind of mana is this?”

The Cursed Mage’s face was a mask of shock. Binaeril’s power was not that of an ordinary boy but the legacy of Dekypleio. 

Binaeril looked at the three dark mages. “Do you want to try resisting next?”

He imagined shadows binding them. “Let the shadows bind you.”

His spell acted like a command, ensnaring the three dark mages. The shadows crept up from their ankles to their waists, and soon they were completely immobilized, unable to even twitch a finger. Their eyes widened in terror and they gasped in dismay.

Binaeril walked slowly towards the Junkie, placing his finger on his forehead. He chanted a spell, ending the dark mage’s life with a simple touch. 

The next one, then the next—Binaeril eliminated them all without hesitation, leaving no room for interrogation or mercy. The last one alive would be enough to testify to their crimes.

Lord Paguin stood pale, watching in horror. To him, Binaeril appeared as a harbinger of doom, a specter from hell itself.

“Now, explain everything clearly.”

As Binaeril pressed the lord, a voice called out to him from the entrance of the passage. He turned and recognized the voice’s owner.

“Lady Vivian?”

“What is all this?” Vivian was taken aback, her eyes wide as she surveyed the room littered with bodies.

As she tried to grasp the situation, one of the corpses suddenly sprang up and lunged at her, seizing her lower jaw and pulling her close. The cold touch on her jaw sent chills down her spine. Binaeril was equally shocked to see the hand gripping her was skeletal, with pale, exposed bones instead of flesh. The thing was not alive.

“Incredible,” a voice filled with malevolent magic echoed in the confined space.

“A mage, and quite a skilled one at that. I didn’t expect to meet such a troublesome foe here.”

“Who are you?” Binaeril demanded.

“I am the master of those worms you see dead at your feet.”

The figure’s eyes, glowing with an eerie light, had hollow sockets—a sure sign of an undead. Part of its skull was grotesquely cracked, a mark left by Binaeril’s magic bullet.

“An undead? Not just any undead, though. How are you still sentient?”

The skeleton laughed, a sound like metal scraping against stone. “Haven’t you heard of an undead mage?”

Binaeril recalled his studies in Elfenbine. Among dark mages, there were rare individuals who sealed their souls to achieve eternal life. These sinister mages were known as liches.

“Lich.”

The aura of the lich’s malevolent magic began to fill the space. Binaeril channeled his own magic, resisting the oppressive force, allowing Vivian to breathe easier.

“Release the lady. If you don’t want the rest of your skull shattered.”

“I cannot do that.”

The lich pointed a bony finger at Lord Paguin.

“Death’s dart.”

Zing—

Before Binaeril could react, a dark beam shot from the lich’s finger, piercing the lord’s heart.

“Urk… ack…”

The lord collapsed, blood bubbling from his mouth.

“You bastard!” Binaeril fired a magic bullet, but it was deflected by the lich’s hastily conjured barrier.

“I shall retreat for now. But remember this: you will meet me again.”

As the lich gathered its magic, Binaeril realized with horror that it was preparing to teleport, with Vivian still in its grasp. He shouted in desperation as the lich’s grip tightened on her neck.