Chapter 81

“…Huh?”

The thugs’ mouths twisted into smirks.

“You’re worried about that woman who just ran off?”

“Better worry about your own skin!”

Wahaha!

Their laughter filled the narrow alley as they swung their weapons with reckless ease.

Then, suddenly, the air around them began to distort.

Pazzzzt.

A surge of blue sparks flared from Demius’s sword as the air compressed around it.

No way…

“…Sword aura?”

As the thugs stared blankly in shock, Demius rolled his wrist.

“Haa.”

Originally, he had only planned to disable a few of them, maybe slice their tendons so they couldn’t chase after Melissa.

But now.

Splat.

By the time the thugs whipped their heads around to look for him, Demius’s figure had already vanished.

A soft voice reached the ear of the man holding a massive hammer.

“I changed my mind.”

BOOM.

A sound erupted that no mere metal could produce.

The thug swung his hammer in panic, but it was too late.

The enormous hammer barely caught the force of Demius’s blow, the shock rattling his arms.

Demius stepped on the weapon’s shaft, using it as a foothold to leap high into the air.

In the same motion, his sword shot downward toward his target.

“Grk!”

The man barely blocked the strike through sheer animal instinct. His arms trembled violently.

What kind of strength is this?

He turned toward his companions and shouted.

“What are you idiots doing? Get him!”

At that command, the drugged men lunged forward as one.

Krrrrr.

A strange sound rumbled in their throats, but none of them cared.

Their eyes, dyed red, fixed only on one prey.

Demius.

An uncontrollable desire surged up from within them, an urge to tear out his throat and rip through his veins.

Krrrrrrr.

With beast-like roars, they charged.

Demius’s blade flashed, cutting them down one after another.

But even as their flesh split and their muscles tore, they didn’t stop.

Blood streamed from the broken vessels in their eyes as they threw themselves forward, using their bodies as shields and weapons alike.

Slash, slash.

“Graaaah!”

His aura-clad blade sliced through daggers and shattered clubs with ease.

Even those high on Smile of the Spirits began to falter, their bodies ripped apart from their own aggression.

Whiiiish.

Just then, a sharp wind cut through the alley.

Demius raised his sword vertically in reflex.

BOOM.

Pazzzzt.

Sliding backward a few steps, Demius lifted an eyebrow.

“…A mage?”

“You’re finished now!”

The thug who had disappeared earlier shouted triumphantly.

When Demius glanced around, dozens more armed men had gathered at both ends of the alley.

“You’re dead, you hear me!”

“Surrender now and maybe we’ll spare your life!”

“Not that your body’ll be in one piece, haha!”

Demius ignored their jeers.

He continued fending off the crazed attackers, his eyes sweeping over the crowd until they landed on one man.

“You’re not from the Magic Tower, are you.”

The hidden mage flinched.

‘He noticed?’

How?

The man’s eyes darted nervously as he clenched his lips before shouting back.

“Of course not! Don’t you dare compare me to those weak Tower dogs!”

Magic Tower.

The mage’s expression twisted in contempt.

Rules, ethics, restrictions. Those fools were the reason magic never advanced.

He had left that rotten place behind long ago, sick of its politics and hypocrisy.

Yes, there were a few who rose by sheer talent, like Al Kidma, the greatest archmage in history who had once been a poor street boy, but they were the exception.

‘Damn it.’

The mage gritted his teeth, thinking of one man in particular.

Vismonte de Orléans.

If that man hadn’t stolen his thesis and published it under his own name, things would have been different.

But now.

“Want to know something fun?”

A twisted grin spread across his face as he pulled a small vial from his pocket and shook it lightly.

The past no longer mattered.

Now he possessed real power.

“Ever heard of Smile of the Spirits?”

Popping open the cork, he revealed the black liquid inside.

Unlike those fools who overdosed, he knew exactly how to use it.

Just a few drops.

Gulp. Gulp.

He drank the diluted mixture, and a faint mist of magic rose from his body.

“Hhhhhhhaah!”

A rush of intoxicating power boiled up inside him.

With blood-red eyes, the mage licked his lips and sneered.

“You’re nothing to me now.”

How exhilarating it felt to live beyond rules, to seize power unrestricted by any law or conscience.

How glorious to wield strength that defied everything once sacred.

Then Demius’s lips moved.

“Good.”

The mage froze, certain he had misheard.

Was he insane?

If Demius could sense his mana, he had to know what kind of power he was facing.

Yet there was no fear in his eyes, only calm focus.

The mage’s gaze locked with his, and for a fleeting second, he saw it.

A faint smile curving on Demius’s lips.

“Now I have a reason.”

Demius spoke in a quiet, satisfied tone.

He had assumed these men were ordinary thugs.

But a mage, and one using illegal drugs, made the situation ideal.

Now neither Linburton the knight nor Natalianne the mage could claim he’d overreacted.

Even his mother would approve if he eliminated drug users in the name of keeping the territory safe.

And no one would have grounds to criticize Melissa afterward.

As that faint smile lingered on his lips, several thugs shuddered and shouted.

“What the hell is he doing? Get him!”

“Waaah!”

Over fifty men charged all at once as the mage’s eyes turned black.

The sound of his incantation mingled with the screams and shouts around them.

“Die!”

The ground split open beneath their feet as Demius swung his blade.

Slash.

Blades clashed. Clubs whistled through the air.

Yet none of them could land a single blow.

“Dammit.”

What is that monster?

Where did someone like him come from?

As panic spread through the gang, someone in the back yelled.

“Fall back!”

Rumble.

The ground shook as though an earthquake had struck.

The thugs stumbled backward, retreating in fear.

At that moment, the mage finished his spell.

“Die!”

BOOM.

The earth beneath Demius’s feet erupted upward like a massive fist.

Chunks of hardened ground slammed into the air, sweeping several thugs away with screams.

“Heh, hahaha!”

The mage grinned manically, staring at the spot where Demius had stood.

Dust and dirt slowly settled, leaving behind a mound of cracked earth.

No trace of Demius remained.

He must have been buried or blown away.

The mage’s lips twisted upward.

“Serves you right.”

Another nameless grave, nothing more.

He turned his gaze toward his groaning underlings.

Swoosh.

A cold chill shot down his spine. He twisted his head on instinct.

Slash.

The edge of a blade grazed him, slicing half of his hood clean off.

The sight of the fluttering torn fabric made his skin crawl.

If not for the drug’s heightened reflexes, that blade would have taken his head.

Tap.

A few steps ahead, someone landed lightly on the ground and rolled his wrist.

Crack. Crack.

“Haa.”

As Demius adjusted his stance, the mage’s eyes widened to their limit.

“…H-how?”

How did he dodge that?

How did he escape my enhanced magic?

Panicking, the mage fumbled through his robes.

Pop.

He ripped open another vial and gulped the contents down in one breath.

Damn it. Damn it all.

He knew he shouldn’t take this much, but now.

Clink.

He threw aside the empty bottle.

“Gah!”

Power surged violently inside him.

Crkkk.

Blood trickled from his eyes as burst vessels painted his vision red.

With a beast-like growl rising from his throat, he finished his incantation and screamed.

“Die!”