Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

Matthias lunged with his estoc, thrusting three times in quick succession.

His swordsmanship was exactly as Callisto knew it to be.

‘So, it’s not just a simple illusion.’

Callisto parried the attacks with a smooth twirl of Starfall.

The sword left a trail resembling a galactic tail.

After deflecting Matthias’s attack, Callisto quickly approached and struck Matthias’s abdomen with Starfall’s pommel.

His hand cut through the air uselessly.

Matthias’s form dissipated like a wraith.

‘The attacks are real, but the body is an illusion.’

The vanished image of Matthias reappeared from the fog.

Gripping his estoc, the illusion charged again.

This time, faster and more erratic.

Callisto blocked the attack the same way as before.

When he struck with the pommel again, the illusion disappeared as if it had never been there.

“…This time, there are two.”

Two Matthiases emerged from the fog.

Then three, then four.

Starfall left a flurry of trails as Callisto fended off attacks from all directions.

Although the illusions had no substance, they didn’t vanish until struck.

Blocking attacks from all sides while trying to strike with the pommel was untenable.

Callisto carefully slashed at each of Matthias’s illusions.

‘There’s a trap here. If my movements become reckless, she’ll make Matthias and me face each other, forcing us to strike at one another in the heat of battle.’

Her strategy was to use one foe against another. He had no intention of falling into her trap.

Illusory blades targeted his throat, right shoulder, left thigh.

The more Callisto concentrated on the fight, the more Starfall began to emit a faint white glow.

Blocking, slashing, and thrusting.

The trajectory of a sword can be simple.

But the movements of a knight who has honed those simple maneuvers to perfection are anything but simple.

Parrying three attacks and cutting down three illusions.

Callisto accomplished all this in a single breath.

Starfall’s white light now shone brightly.

The white light in his sword was the mark of one of the twelve knights recognized by the Order.

A testament to his devout faith.

Before he knew it, there wasn’t a single illusion left around him.

Soon, another illusion of Matthias appeared from the fog.

As Callisto’s sword pierced its thigh,

the illusion, seeing the white light in Starfall, cried out.

“It’s me! Vice-Captain, it’s me!”

Callisto paused.

“Matthias, is it really you?”

“Yes, it’s me, Vice-Captain.”

He sheathed his sword.

“Has Sister Priya’s test ended?”

The fog around them showed no signs of clearing.

Perhaps she had realized she couldn’t defeat the paladins of the Order this way.

“Brother Matthias, how are you? Are the wounds from Dalheim’s attack healing?”

He grasped Matthias’s shoulders and asked.

Because of this, he could see it clearly.

Above the eyes covered by the white cloth, Matthias’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Dalheim’s wounds? Yes, yes. I’m fine now, Vice-Captain.”

A subtle silence.

Matthias’s gaze shifted toward the loosely gripped Starfall.

It was Callisto who moved first.

He pushed off the ground and created distance.

“Priya! It’s you!”

Fog with substance surged in and bound Callisto’s limbs.

“Hand over that sword, Sir Callisto!”

“I cannot!”

Priya’s mana struck his grip.

He felt a stinging pain, but he did not let go of the sword.

“Do we really need to shed blood?”

“If it comes to that, I still need Starfall.”

Callisto gritted his teeth.

He didn’t want to aim his blade at an old friend, but words wouldn’t break her resolve.

“It will be impossible unless you step over my corpse!”

Callisto shouted.

The trails left by Starfall showered down on the fake Matthias.

Even Priya could not escape his earnest attack unscathed.

‘A hit!’

He felt it clearly at his fingertips.

It wasn’t a deep wound. But she was definitely struck.

The surrounding fog began to recede.

As the mist cleared completely, Priya’s form was nowhere to be seen.

Only the two horses they had ridden and the still form of Matthias, lying peacefully on one of them, remained.

“…I’m sorry, my friend.”

It turned out that Callisto had been the only one who had entered the foggy battlefield from the start.

“Wait.”

Callisto checked the saddlebags tied to the horses.

It wasn’t in the bags, around them, or on the sleeping Matthias.

It was nowhere to be found.

The magic sword Mimung, which the Captain had ordered them to retrieve, had vanished along with Priya’s fog.

***

“Sir Binaeril, are you leaving already?”

“How long can I stay, eating the Duke’s bread without doing anything?”

“Eating? If you wished, you could have a position in Vinzburg or Essen.”

Binaeril responded with an awkward smile, expressing his refusal.

The world was vast. Between Binaeril and his brother were countless powerful figures.

Living safely as an advisor to the Emperor or the Duke in a fortified castle terrified him, knowing his brother was growing stronger every moment.

The page he had sought, the magic sword Mimung, had also fallen into his brother’s hands.

“Do you truly need nothing else, Sir Binaeril?”

As compensation for the magic sword falling into the paladins’ hands, the Duke wanted to offer him anything.

“A bit of travel money and a horse will suffice.”

“That’s all?”

Hearing this, the Duke’s servant brought forth a cart filled with florin gold coins and a horse with an excessively luxurious saddle.

“…This is too much. I can’t travel with a cart.”

With that much gold, one could probably buy a small kingdom.

“I am a man who is fair with rewards and punishments. Take as much as you need. Even if you take the cart, I won’t say a word.”

Binaeril hesitated, then picked up about ten florin gold coins.

…after a moment, he picked up five more,

…then, after another moment, he picked up three more. The Duke, unable to watch any longer, grabbed Binaeril’s pouch and poured the coins in himself.

“Stop being so indecisive! You said it’s an artifact and not heavy! Just take it all!”

Indeed, the generosity of the Empire was on another level.

Binaeril stiffly watched the mass of gold coins being poured into his pouch.

“Thank you….”

“Yeah! A man shouldn’t be so stingy…”

The pouch felt much heavier than before.

It was a gift from Dean Yulio of Elfenbine, enchanted with spells for lightness and spatial expansion.

Despite this, the weight was considerable, making him think he could buy a mansion with the contents of that one pouch.

“I’ve instructed the groom to bring the finest horse of the best lineage. You can ride it.”

“I can’t accept this. It’s too extravagant. Riding such a horse will attract too much attention.”

“So what if it does?”

The Duke asked, puzzled.

“…You wouldn’t understand, Duke, since you were born into it.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is.”

With the Duke’s imposing figure, it wouldn’t matter if he rode a jewel-encrusted horse. In fact, people would probably avert their gaze quickly if they made eye contact.

But Binaeril wasn’t Torben Dux. He was young, small, and delicate.

He knew from experience that flaunting wealth was not wise.

“Please give me a simple, sturdy horse.”

“Hmm, alright.”

“And…”

“Is there something else you want?”

“I’ve heard that the weapons of the Duke’s army, crafted by the Toins, are of high quality.”

“Ah, Buffalo must have told you that.”

Buffalo was the nickname of Bapaluga, one of the Toins Binaeril had met.

Even to Binaeril, who didn’t know much about weapons, their equipment seemed robust and well-made.

“Do you need armor? I thought you disliked wearing heavy protection. If you need something, just say so.”

Before departing on the Rotfallen expedition, Binaeril had sparred with almost all of the Duke’s knights in the fortress.

He recalled one of the weapons used by one of those knights.

Small, light, and difficult to handle.

“I’d like to get a weapon. It was a short sword with a crescent-shaped blade…”

Binaeril roughly described the weapon he had seen.

The Duke, understanding immediately, responded,

“A falcata?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“No, a falcata means a curved sword. All blades with curved edges are called falcatas. Now that I think about it, there was someone who used such a weapon.”

“Yes, it was a blade curved like a crescent moon.”

“Should it be called a sword or a dagger? Anyway, you want that?”

“But falcatas are usually avoided because they can’t easily penetrate armor…”

The Duke, rubbing his chin, realized who he was talking to and burst into hearty laughter.

“It doesn’t matter for you, does it? I’ll give you a quality falcata and a matching scabbard.”

With the Duke’s command, Bapaluga handed over the falcata, and Binaeril’s time in Vinzburg was concluded.

Bapaluga tilted his head in curiosity.

“This is a weapon used by northern barbarians, and it’s rare to find someone who can handle it. Why did you ask for it?”

Binaeril’s reason for choosing the falcata was simple.

It was short, light, and straightforward—just a weapon for slashing.

-Why do you even need a weapon?

‘You know why. I used to carry an old longsword just to avoid being underestimated.’

That was one reason, but the Rotfallen expedition had taught Binaeril something.

Having a weapon to support his magic in close combat would be beneficial.

With his preparations complete, Binaeril was ready to depart once more.

From Elfenbine to the capital of the Empire.

From the capital to Duke Dux’s Vinzburg Fortress.

And from Vinzburg Fortress, this time….

“Where are you headed?”

“I’m going back to Elfenbine for now.”

Back to Elfenbine.

The Duke nodded.

When Vivian heard of Binaeril’s destination, she wanted to join him, but the Duke immediately opposed the idea.

Although he had accepted Vivian’s enrollment in Elfenbine, he was reluctant to part with her so soon.

It was clear the Duke wanted to keep Vivian in Vinzburg for as long as possible.

“I’ll deliver the rewards I couldn’t give you now when we meet again.”

“The heavy pouch is more than enough, Your Grace.”

“It was a pleasure, Sir Binaeril.”

“The pleasure was mine, Lady Melina.”

In the front yard of Vinzburg Fortress, the Duke’s family, the knights who had grown fond of him, the Toins, and the soldiers from Rotfallen who remembered him gathered to see him off.

Vivian watched Binaeril as he mounted his horse and called out his name.

“Thank you.”

Binaeril responded with a bright smile.

Then he turned his horse, setting his direction.

Northeast, back to the center of the continent.

To the Tower of Magic, Elfenbine.

“Everyone, attention! Salute!”

Sir Baron’s command echoed through the fortress.

“Salute to Sir Binaeril Dalheim!”

Riding a sturdy yet humble horse, with the falcata at his waist, Binaeril urged his horse onward.

He planned to return to Dean Yulio at Elfenbine and seek ways to become stronger.

The Duke and his entire force bid farewell to the departing mage, watching until he was out of sight down the fortress road.