Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“Argh!”

A searing electric current surged through Balram’s entire body. Though his physical form was numb, the shock that rattled his soul was something he could never grow accustomed to. Had he still possessed nerves and flesh, he would likely be drooling.

“It’s useless to try and deceive me. No matter who I am, it doesn’t change the fact that you cannot leave this place!”

Balram extended his hand towards the duke and the knights. As the duke tried to respond, someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. His knights stepped forward to protect him.

“Unleash the breath of death!”

A black flash hurtled towards the knights. They raised their shields to protect the duke.

“Stand aside!”

“We cannot! Please, stay behind us!”

“What foolishness. Do I look so weak that I need protection? I am Duke Torben Dux!”

“It’s precisely because you are the duke that we must protect you!”

Their shields, corroded by Balram’s magic, turned black. The knights gritted their teeth and held their ground. Balram’s voice gnawed at their minds, and his magic corroded their weapons, but they did not retreat.

“We are not your burden, Your Grace. You don’t need to buy us time out of consideration. We are your knights!”

Baron shouted passionately, understanding the duke’s intention to buy them time.

“A touching scene. I shall grant you the honor of sharing the same grave. Pouring death and decay!”

Black rain began to fall. It was a strange phenomenon. They were underground, so no sky should be visible no matter how much they looked up. Yet, the black rain defied such logic, falling upon the heads of the duke and his knights.

“Everyone, protect His Grace!”

Baron shouted, and the knights clustered around the duke.

“You foolish idiots.”

The duke cursed as he was jostled by the knights crowding around him.

“We won’t win by just taking it. Drop your petty considerations!”

The duke, half a head taller than the grand knights, pushed down their shields and charged towards Balram. One hand held his trusty flail, and the other a dagger he had snatched from Baron’s holster.

In the pitch-dark underground tomb, the sight of the duke charging alone towards the lich resembled an epic of an unnamed hero.

“You wretch! Your cursed power won’t harm me!”

The duke ran, taking the full brunt of the black rain. Everywhere it touched, searing pain spread through him. Balram, having been reborn as a lich, had forgotten physical pain. But Duke Torben Dux?

The duke was a warrior who could ignore pain even in his human body. He let out a battle cry as he sprinted.

With beast-like speed, the duke closed the distance to Balram and plunged the dagger into where his heart would have been.

Thud―.

Balram wanted to laugh. Could a lich be killed by stabbing its heart? Absolutely not. But instead of laughter, a groan of pain escaped Balram’s lips.

“Grrrr…”

The lich’s body was little more than a byproduct. A lich is chronically numb to pain. For some reason, the pain from the dagger lodged in his heart was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the punishment Mimung inflicted upon him.

“You cannot kill me with this…”

“I don’t care!”

The duke threw aside the flail’s handle, grabbing the iron ball and slamming it into Balram’s face. Balram’s skull shattered like an egg.

“Shield me!”

Binaeril quickly erected a barrier against the surge of red mana. Even so, he was flung back a considerable distance before he managed to stabilize himself. He found himself at the edge of the space; one more step and he would have plummeted into the abyss. 

He immediately called out Eden’s name. She had already retreated back into the ring.

[It hurts, Binaeril. It hurts…]

He could sense her pain through her voice.

‘I’m sorry, Eden.’

Binaeril had overestimated Eden’s powers. It was a miscalculation.

-Did you really think you could defeat a lich with just the power of a spirit? That’s arrogance.

‘Why didn’t Eden’s power work?’

Mimung’s aura was clearly malevolent. Veritas had said that Eden could reject unholy power.

-It didn’t fail. The difference in power was just too great. The spirit power you wield is simply inferior to his mana. That’s all.

Eden’s assistance was no longer a viable option. Binaeril had to defeat Mimung with his own abilities.

‘Eden, I’m sorry. Rest inside. I’ll handle this somehow.’

Mimung’s sneering laughter grew louder.

-Your souls are appetizing, but time is short. I will devour you quickly.

“That won’t happen, demon sword.”

Mimung’s red mana rippled through the air, moving like an organic being. The red sword, enveloped in red mana, truly looked like something out of a legend.

‘I need to clear that mana to get to the sword.’

Binaeril envisioned a strong wind. The Miao tribe necklace around his neck jingled.

“Stronger winds.”

A gentle breeze turned into a gust, and the gust into a fierce wind. Binaeril braced himself, but even this powerful wind did not affect Mimung’s mana.

-That’s concentrated mana dense enough to take form. It’s not gaseous. No wind can blow it away.

‘I was just testing.’

-Is the game over? Boring.

Mimung’s mana sharpened into a weapon and shot towards Binaeril. The red mana moved like tentacles, aiming at him. The Miao tribe necklace jingled again, amplifying the effects of wind-based magic.

Attacks from above, stabbing and piercing, and wide horizontal slashes—Mimung’s attacks were dangerous, but to Binaeril, they seemed slow. With movements like an agile creature, he dodged all of Mimung’s assaults.

Kiiiiing—

Clusters of magical bullets formed in midair and targeted Mimung’s mana, firing rapidly. The bullets pierced through the red mana, seemingly successful at first.

‘Did it work?’

But it was only momentary. The red mana dispersed like mist before regrouping and launching another attack at Binaeril.

‘One more time.’

This time, Binaeril aimed directly at Mimung and fired. The red mana converged on the trajectory of the bullets, effortlessly dissipating several of them.

‘This level of power isn’t enough to break through. However…’

It was clear that Mimung was actively defending against the magic. If he could just land a hit, it would have an impact.

-Quick on your feet for a mage, aren’t you, kid?

A blade of mana sliced through the air at Binaeril, who slid to dodge the attack and close in on Mimung. He hurled a powerful flash of light into the air.

“Light, explode!”

Flash!

As expected, it had no effect on Mimung.

-What are you doing?

What Binaeril was targeting was not the sword itself but its shadow. The burst of light revealed the sword’s shadow clearly to Binaeril.

“Strike from the shadow!”

If this move failed, the same trick wouldn’t work twice. So, Binaeril sharpened his imagination to the limit. As the mana channeled through Veritas surged out, a wave of fatigue washed over him, making his body feel heavy.

But it was worth it. Like a fish leaping from a lake, the shadow bullets shot out from the shadow, fiercely targeting the demon sword.

-…!

‘It hit!’

Where is a sword’s weak point? Human weak points include the heart, neck, head, and groin, among many others. But an inanimate sword has no such weak points, as it was born to be a weapon. Nevertheless, there is a junction where the blade and hilt meet.

Binaeril targeted the spot known as the crossguard, the middle section connecting the blade and the hilt—the sword’s navel.

Clang! Crack—

The sound of the demon sword and shadow bullets colliding echoed sharply. It became a battle of hardness and penetration. Binaeril maintained his concentration, focusing all his power on the force of the shadow bullets.

Mimung did not scream. It didn’t even let out a groan of pain. The result of the friction sparked and, in the end, the object that was flung away was—

“…Damn it!”

Binaeril’s bullet. He bit his lower lip and cursed inwardly.

Mimung’s blade turned its attention back to Binaeril.

-A clever trick, kid. Hehehe…!

Red mana surrounded Binaeril, encircling him from all sides.

-As a reward for your clever move, I’ll give you a long and painful end.

The red mana surged toward him.

Mimung’s mana did not tear Binaeril’s body apart. Instead, it invaded through every orifice: eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. His body resisted the foreign mana, but it was futile. Most of his mana had been depleted by the previous move. The red mana gradually took over his body. Amidst the growing darkness, Binaeril heard Mimung’s laughter.

As Mimung attempted to consume Binaeril’s soul, he encountered resistance.

-…What is this?

Mimung felt as though he had hit a wall. There was no way a mere human mage could resist his control.

-What is this wall?

Binaeril’s body had little mana left. Mimung had thought it would be easy to take over. Yet, within Binaeril’s soul, there was a power similar to, or perhaps even greater than, Mimung’s own.

-What is this power?

-…So, you finally see me, foolish wretch.

A sword and a book. Two fragments meeting.

The Book of Truth, Veritas, and the demon sword, Mimung, recognized each other.

-There was a similar incident before. When Binaeril faced the ghost of his brother, my power saved him.

-What are you? Where did you come from?

-You should remember. Thanks to me, Binaeril escaped that crisis. This foolish Binaeril hasn’t learned a thing.

-This power… Are you the same as me? Why does this human child possess such power?

-Be quiet, mad sword. The Book of Truth speaks! This body is mine. You, who play with moldy skulls, dare to covet my host? Have you no sense of decency?

-You, who are the same as me, can you not sense the impending threat? Give me your power, or…

-What threat? The only thing that should be given up is you, Mimung. Or rather, fragment of a being unaware of its own self.

Binaeril was on the verge of fainting from the struggle between the two fragments within his soul. Mimung no longer showed the same confidence; he was becoming desperate.

-There is no time. Another presence is approaching. We must flee quickly, or…

-What nonsense are you spouting now?

Everyone, Binaeril, Mimung, Balram, Duke Dux, Baron, Asdal, and Gustav, looked up at the sudden sound of an explosion. The tomb… was collapsing.

No, it wasn’t collapsing. Someone had broken through the tomb’s ceiling, allowing beams of light to filter in. For the first time in a long while, the thought of seeing sunlight crossed everyone’s minds. And through the opened ceiling, two figures descended slowly.

Like angels, like divine messengers descending to the mortal world.

“…Vice-commander, it seems we’ve arrived.”

“Indeed, brother. It appears that object is what we seek.”

Their names were Callisto and Matthias. They belonged to the Holy Knights of the Holy Kingdom of Vitory. At the pinnacle of the order, they were among the twelve paladins known as the Kings of Knights.