Chapter 25

…Two hours ago.

Sylvia left at 7 P.M., taking the car with her. She carried a pile of notes, flowers, and a pen, but she didn't feel very good. Sitting quietly in the back seat, she murmured to herself.

"Why did he give so many assignments so indifferently? Even though there was a condition that they only had to do two out of the three activities and he didn't demand high-quality work as he usually did, they couldn't just meet the bare minimum since it would only be equivalent to five credits…."

"We've arrived."

She had reached her destination while worrying about the assignments. The evening air that greeted her was chilly. The sun was setting on the horizon to the west, scattering orange light throughout the sky. It suited her destination.

Sylvia walked with the flowers in hand, her elegant shoes clinking quietly on the neatly polished road. Waiting for her at her destination was a tombstone adorned with bouquets.

[Sierra von Ellemin Iliade]

[Proud wizard, wife of Glitheon, and the mother of Sylvia, a lovely daughter.]

The place where her mother slept eternally. Her mother wanted to be buried in her hometown, and Sylvia followed her footsteps to the institution.

"I'm here." Sylvia knelt as she laid the flowers carefully atop the tombstone. "Today at the holy ground, my little brother had his aptitude test."

It had been five years since her father remarried. Her little brother, who suddenly popped into her life, had just turned four.

"My brother has no talent for magic. He also looks like a potato, a roasted one at that. I don't think he's fully developed yet. No, maybe he was born lacking something?"

Today's complaints gently continued.

"Professor Deculein is no less than a villain. He seems to think the only responsibility I have is his lectures."

She could no longer remember her mother's voice. Even her sorrow towards her mother's fate felt a little vague. But even so, once a month, a special day came when Sylvia, the girl who normally didn't talk, told her mom stories about her life. Today's excuse was Deculein's bombardment of assignments, but whatever it was, she felt much lighter after she let it out here.

"…I'll get going, then. Take care."

Sylvia moved back to her feet, her knees aching, and turned around without hesitation to leave the cemetery, only to stumble upon an unexpected sight. Under the dim moonlight stood a person she never expected to meet in such a place.

Deculein. The very being who filled her with stress today now stood not too far away from her, staring at a tombstone in deep silence. One more presence caught her attention. Standing near him was a beautifully armored knight with hair so white it seemed to banish the very darkness around her.

She thought they came together but soon realized that wasn't the case. The knight watched Deculein's back from a distance, positioning herself at an angle where he couldn't see her.

"…"

Deculein was also too focused on the grave before him to notice her. For a while, it looked like he was motionlessly reading the name on it, lost in the old memories it conjured forth. Not long after, he fell on one knee and swept his bare hand gently across the tombstone. His eyes, still staring at it, soon went blank, his empty pupils reflecting the moonlight. Tears gently rolled down his cheeks.

"…!"

Sylvia, experiencing the biggest surprise of the year, unknowingly gasped and stepped back, causing her to step on dry leaves. Deculein flinched and immediately sprang up, glaring at her with reddened eyes.

"…You."

"I didn't mean to intrude."

Sylvia spoke as plainly as ever. Unconsciously, she looked toward where the white-haired knight was standing, but she wasn't there anymore, almost as if she disappeared into thin air. He followed her gaze.

"Who else was here?"

She shook her head, keeping her lips sealed tightly.

"No one."

He then closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

"Haaa…"

Sylvia was worried about being scolded, but Deculein was rather grateful. Thanks to her, he was able to escape the current of his emotions, whose waves raged far stronger than any storm. Without any warning, it swallowed him in seconds. If he had been caught any deeper, he definitely would have been lost, adrift.

"I see. You may go back now."

He walked in the opposite direction of the entrance. Sylvia hesitated, but she decided to walk with him instead, albeit not knowing where he was going.

"Don't be mad." She anxiously uttered, but there was no response. He simply kept walking, heading ever deeper into the cemetery. Sylvia grew increasingly uneasy. "I won't tell anyone what I saw today."

He was still silent. She thought of running away now, but she wouldn't know what to do if he punished her with disciplinary action because of it. She wasn't even sure if she could be sanctioned for punishment based on personal matters. However, she soon realized it didn't matter.

He could give her a late punishment for the last incident.

"Sylvia."

Deculein stopped.

"Yes?"

He looked around to the surrounding land and sky.

"…Where are we?"

Sylvia blinked curiously. Realizing he was a little out of himself, she pointed him in the right direction, keeping quiet about his tears.

"The exit is on the other side."

"…I see. Guide me."

They turned around, but before they could even take one step onwards, they noticed a dubious hooded individual standing in the deep corners of the graveyards, blocking the confined forest road leading to the exit. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, he emitted obvious killing intent.

With tired eyes, Deculein glanced him over.

"Who are you?"

The individual didn't answer, but Deculein didn't care. Using his psychokinesis, he rolled down his hood. As his bare skin was exposed, her nervousness grew. He had long hair and scars around his eyes, which seemed similar to that of a bird of prey, only exaggerated by his slim jawline. Although it was Sylvia's first time seeing him, she was familiar with his face.

Rock Hark, the Wizard Killer.

"Sylvia."

"Yes?"

"Run. If you go through the back, you'll be able to get out, right?"

Deculein saw [The Villain's Fate] emerging from his fearsome flesh, staining him with a red mist. He took a step forward, positioning Sylvia behind him.

"Are you sure?"

Sylvia cautiously asked.

"Yes. You can't handle him."

He knew all too well that normal wizards were no match for Rock Hark. His [Magic Invalidation] was something any gamer would call fraudulent. He didn't even have to touch his target for it to work; for as long as they were within his radius, they wouldn't be able to use magic. Even magic fired from beyond his range would be extinguished the moment it entered his ability.

However, to gain such an overwhelming trait, he had to sacrifice his mana.

"Go, Sylvia." Sylvia didn't reply, causing Deculein's jaw to clench tighter. "You'll just get in my way if you stay here. Don't do something stupid…?"

As he turned around, he lost his train of thought, seemingly taken aback. Sylvia had vanished. No, she was already so far away.

Tatatatatatatatata-

Tatatatatatata-

It was a very dynamic sprint.

"…"

Well, it was better than her loitering around and getting in his way. Deculein smiled awkwardly before turning to face Rock Hark, who didn't seem to have any intention of letting Sylvia go. He needed a quick fix to this problem. He was holding a dagger in one hand, which seemed more than just an unusual weapon. It emitted an eerie and frightening aura.

Deculein stood silently as he put on his gloves. He then adjusted his collar and straightened his suit.

"…You won't be able to use magic in front of me."

Rock Hark spoke calmly before swiftly launching an attack by swinging his dagger at him. Deculein did nothing but stand still in the same spot. It was as if he were expecting him to come into his arms without any defense or countermeasures.

Looking at the arrogant noble, the thought that wizards were always a bunch of arrogant and prideful wild beasts passed through Rock Hark's mind. They often relied on their magic and mistakenly thought they were superior to him, only to be awakened to the reality that they were no more than worthless beings upon realizing that magic didn't exist in his realm. Their distinguished confidence and pride would be lost at that moment, and they would start crying and begging for their lives.

The professor before him wouldn't be any different. No, he was the pinnacle of wizards. With the sun setting and the moon rising, the scenery seemed to have been prepared for his death.

Rock Hark approached Deculein and swung his dagger without hesitation.

"…Kukh."

However, he was shoved away by an unknown impact that slammed into his abdomen. Rock Hark tumbled down on the ground but stood up quickly, staring at Deculein. He was still standing in the same spot, not even moved an inch.

"Cough—"

He wiped away the blood he coughed up, becoming aware of the possibility that his opponent had a weapon hidden on his person.

"Hmmph!"

Rock Hark ran and stretched out his arm, pretending to stab with the dagger, then backed off, launching a feint to figure out what kind of weapon he had. However, instead of a bladed weapon or a blunt object, Deculein's long leg hit his nose.

"Kh!"

Rock Hark pulled back, clutching his face.

"…Rock Hark."

Deculein's eyes remained composed as he stared at him, but his gaze felt icy.

"How much do my fists and feet hurt?"

Deculein asked out of genuine curiosity. The quality of Mana wasn't limited to magic. It might be an exaggeration, but it was no different from being the Quality of Human. The Quality of Mana applied to everything related to mana, namely [Characteristics]. Thus, [Iron Man], which allowed one to use their body more efficiently while making their attacks more destructive, would have leveled up by one.

That was why he was curious.

"Don't make me ask you twice."

Rock Hark glared at him as he blocked the blood flowing from his nostrils.

"How much do they hurt?"

He looked down on him from a distance. He stood tall and arrogant, making it seem as if Rock Hark, who was on the verge of tears, was far below him.

"Answer me."

Rock Hark turned around and ran, but before he could make it far, a kick hit him in the back of his head, causing him to fall to the ground.

Dooong—!

As he felt a tremendous shock, his vision tumbled down. One of his eyes seemed to be staring directly at the spiraling and star-filled sky. Blue crystals glimmered beyond the darkness as if announcing the devil's presence.

Yukline eyes.

"Answer me."

Rock Hark stretched his legs, causing the tips of daggers to appear from the soles of his shoes. He then swung one toward Deculein's neck, who easily avoided it by simply taking a step back. His movements were graceful, almost as if he were watching the moonlight itself dance.

Rock Hark staggered to his feet.

"…I admit you're strong. You're different from the wizards I've faced. However, there are certain ways to kill you."

No magic could materialize inside Rock Hark's territory, though his ability's principle couldn't be explained magically. In a sense, it was more the principle of hatred. However, that was only true if his victim was within range.

Deculein only needed to be one step ahead of him. His defenses were filled with holes, but he knew he shouldn't be fooled by it. He already knew from experience that it was a trap, but he could easily level the playing field by using a trap of his own.

Rock Hark ran once more. Deculein swiftly broke through the distance he created, and he swung his fist at him, but he swiftly ducked down. Rock Hark thought he had him this time. His fist was out in the open, fully captured within his view. As fast as he could, he launched another kick, and although it was only one attack, it was enough to slash through his opponent.

Slash—

He heard the sound of his dagger digging into his skin, causing Rock Hark to look up at him with a smile. However, his expression soon grew dim once more.

"You use quite an interesting technique."

Deculein, with a dagger stuck in his side, was staring at Rock Hark with his composure unmarred.

"At this rate…"

Rather, his face looked like he was calculating something. Rock Hark twisted the dagger sideways, and a faint hint of tremor showed through Deculein's eyebrows, but it soon settled.

"It's bearable enough."

His elbow collided with Rock Hark's forehead.

Bang—!

His other fist came upwards a moment later to collide with his chin.

Bam—!

It ruptured as if breaking a watermelon with bare hands. Rock Hark was sent sprawling onto the ground, unable to stand.

"…Rock Hark."

Deculein slowly approached the man.

"I'll ask you one last time. How much—"

"…You crazy bastard, it felt like a bulldozer hit! Are you satisfied now?!"

Deculein nodded as he looked down at Rock Hark.

"One more thing. Why are you targeting wizards?"

He was curious. This guy had nothing to do with the main story, but he wanted to know anyway.

"Because wizards are cursed kinsmen! They're apostates who betrayed God!"

He screamed bloodily.

"The Isle of Wizards' Wealth, Bercht, the Tower, they're all nothing but rotten bastards. Dogs who can't do anything without magic, lunatics who enjoy slaughter."

"…"

"But you…you are…!"

Rock Hark tried to move his body, but he couldn't feel anything from the neck down.

"Who do you fucking think you are—"

Deculein thought about killing him, but he wasn't thirsty for the blood of someone who just admitted defeat. [The Villain's Fate] was easily overcome. Above all, he learned one thing from his words.

"I know. You are the enemy of the Red Box."

At that moment, Rock Hark's bloodshot eyes widened as he looked up at Deculein.

"How did you know? Does Yukline still remember the Red Box?"

"At the very least, I do."

During birth, those blood-related could be born with magic similar to their kin by having their bodies placed in the Red Box, a demon that granted and strengthened the magic of the person's family to the next generation. However, magic was invented to annihilate demons, so the wizards and the Red Box were bound to conflict.

Their fierce war was one of the main pillars of the game's story.

"I understand how you feel. I sympathize with the years upon years of oppression you've suffered."

"…"

The Red Box lived somewhere on the continent, but its fate was at stake. People feared that it would hand down their magic in the name of condemnation. If the emperor took a different stance in the not-too-distant future, a full-fledged massacre might occur because the Red Box was nothing more than a demon.

No, even now, 'cleaning' was in progress without anyone being the wiser.

"… Kill me."

Rock Hark looked strangely resigned.

"I won't kill you. If I kill you, I'll only lose face."

At that moment, noises came from a distance. Reinforcements were approaching. Sylvia must have been successful in finding help.

"Stop talking and just kill me! Now!"

Deculein shook his head.

"I know the Red Box has no sin."

"…What? What does a wizard-like you—!"

Rock Hark was furious, causing him to scream like he was having a seizure. The footsteps in the distance were swiftly closing in on them.

"I'm Deculein of Yukline."

As Deculein said so, he grabbed his wrinkled sleeves and tightened his loose necktie. He fixed his collar and smoothed his shirt and jacket.

"Our magic originates from the Goryeo Dynasty and the blood of the hunter who fought against the devil."

Rock Hark remained motionless as he looked up at him.

"Rock Hark."

The cold wind swept his hair to the side.

"Did I lose my dignity facing you?"

The Wizard Killer merely basked in his elegance.

"Or did my provocations shake you?"

His commanding presence didn't falter, not even once.

"Either way, you can believe what I said. You are human, not a demon."

Only one phrase came to Rock Hark's mind at that moment: noble. He displayed real class, unlike the false ones that dominated the world.

"…"

The anger that burned in Rock Hark's eyes died down, and unknown sadness swiftly filled the emptiness it left behind. The lyrical sentiments bothered Deculein, and he stamped his forehead with his feet.

"Kgggh!"

The beaten Rock Hark passed out immediately before the police force came flooding in.