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“Not at all.”

“Aww, that’s harsh. Even a little flattery would’ve been nice. So, what happened? My brother? Did you find the drugs?”

“I haven’t found the drugs yet, but your brother is fast asleep in the dining room.”

“Hmm?”

Semid glanced at the dining room, then walked in and out again, his face glowing with satisfaction. He slung his arm around Ian’s shoulder and gave a thumbs-up.

“Nice, very nice! That really clears my head. So, are we going to find the drugs now? They’re upstairs, right?”

“That’s what I was told.”

“Well then, let’s…”

Semid abruptly stopped talking and turned his head towards the end of the hallway.

A woman dressed in black, leading a group of mercenaries, was descending the stairs that led to the upper floor.

Semid’s eyes widened with surprise as a familiar expression spread across his face.

“Oh my, look who it is! Isn’t this the sly fox that used to hang around my brother?”

“……”

The woman didn’t respond, instead, she glanced at the mercenaries lying on the floor with a look of pure annoyance. Then she shouted,

“Chelly! Come out!”

Ian shrugged off Semid’s arm and stepped forward.

“If you’re looking for the Dark Mage, he’s not coming. Actually, he can’t.”

“What?”

“If you’re talking about the one with the cute name, I killed him. With this.”

Ian raised his sword, showing its bloodstained blade. The woman stared at it in disbelief before her face twisted in irritation.

“You killed Chelly?”

“That’s right. It ended in an instant. He wasn’t much of a challenge.”

Ian began channeling his mana, preparing for battle. The mercenaries, who had been silently listening to the exchange, were now poised to strike at any moment.

“Are you… perhaps, someone with spiritual powers?”

“It’d be nice if I was, but sadly, not yet.”

“…Ha, where did this lunatic come from? What makes you so confident?”

“Well, let’s just say I have something up my sleeve.”

The woman laughed coldly.

“Those pathetic soldiers behind you? Fine, let’s see what you’ve got. Cut off their arms and legs, I don’t care. Just capture him.”

Without hesitation, the mercenaries gripped their weapons and moved in for the attack.

“Charge.”

Semid didn’t stand idly by either. Upon his command, his loyal soldiers rushed forward to join Ian.

Though the hallway was wide enough for a dozen people to pass through, it suddenly felt suffocating as both sides collided.

‘I need to clear this.’

The mercenaries of the Dark Mage and Semid’s soldiers seemed to be on par in skill.

If measured by level, they were probably around Level 4. However, their opponents had superior teamwork.

Though it wasn’t quick, bodies began to fall, blood spurting as they hit the ground.

‘If this keeps up…’

Battles aren’t fought one-on-one in a fair manner.

Victory comes down to who cooperates more effectively, or if someone with overwhelming skill is present.

Unfortunately, Semid’s soldiers had neither.

‘We’re all going to die.’

Ian stomped his foot. With a thud, flames erupted from beneath his soles and spread outwards.

“Ugh!?”

Fire has an instinctive power to make people shrink back in fear. It’s not just the explosion or heat—it’s the primal danger engraved in the mind that makes muscles react reflexively.

Naturally, the mercenaries were no exception. Startled, they quickly retreated to their respective sides.

Ian glanced back. The soldiers, who had seemed to number around fifty earlier, had now been reduced to half. On the other hand, out of the twenty mercenaries, eight still remained. Only the strongest had survived.

“Not bad. Seems like you’re more than just talk. Shall we continue? Go.”

It was clear how well Semid controlled his mercenaries. At his single word, they charged forward without a second thought.

Three mercenaries led the charge. As if following an unspoken plan, they split into three directions, each swinging their weapons towards Ian.

But what hit Ian first wasn’t their weapons—it was a sinister magic.

‘A curse?’

His limbs, which had felt light and agile thanks to his magic, suddenly became as heavy as if they were shackled.

‘Impressive!’

Ian couldn’t help but admire the timing. Just before the close-quarters fight began, his balance was thrown off.

Seizing that moment, the mercenaries aimed their blades at his neck, waist, and calves. But they were severely underestimating Ian.

Shwiik!

Ian hurled two daggers at the mercenaries in front of him, one to his left and one directly ahead, while darting to his right. He deflected the incoming blade and rammed his shoulder into his opponent.

“Ugh!”

As the mercenary was sent flying, Ian spun around.

He switched his grip on his sword to a reverse hold and slashed at the enemy behind him. His movements were closer to a martial art than traditional swordsmanship.

Shwaak!

Just as Ian cut down the mercenary, a long sword targeted his blind spot, stabbing from behind.

Ian extended his arm. Flames flared up from his palm, forming into the shape of a gauntlet.

The solid, flame-wreathed gauntlet had real physical force.

Clang!

“Wha—!”

The mercenary’s eyes widened in shock as Ian’s sword sliced through his neck with a chilling precision.

But Ian didn’t have time to rest. He immediately turned his back. The mercenary he had knocked down was trying to get back up.

As Ian adjusted his grip to deliver the finishing blow, he was interrupted.

The woman’s dark magic was at work. A dark purple projectile flew towards him, like a glob of foul matter, radiating a powerful curse.

“Hmph.”

Ian scoffed and moved.

Bane of Evil, Second Form: Comet.

Whoosh!

Surrounded by mana, Ian propelled himself forward in a sudden burst of acceleration, driving his sword into the mercenary’s body.

The blade sliced through flesh and bone, extending all the way through the mercenary’s body and piercing the wall behind him. At the same time, the flames enveloping Ian’s body dispelled the curse that had been clinging to him.

“N-now! Kill this bastard!”

The mercenary, with the sword still embedded in his body, shouted as he clung to the holy sword.

Even if his fingers were sliced off, it didn’t matter—his grip was relentless. But it was pointless. There was no need for Ian to forcibly pull the sword from the wall.

With a small surge of mana, the holy sword disappeared from the wall and reappeared in his hand. It was a simple trick made possible by the use of a subspace.

“Wha—!?”

The mercenary, who must have prepared himself for the worst, looked dumbfounded. His expression froze just before a dagger lodged itself into his forehead.

There was no time to breathe. Ian immediately lifted his left foot. A short spear struck the ground where he had just stood.

Without hesitation, Ian propelled himself into the air, spinning as he kicked out with his foot, sending the spear-wielding opponent’s head crashing into the wall.

Bang!

With a violent thud, the mercenary’s head hit the wall, and he collapsed, unconscious.

Before Ian’s foot even touched the ground, another weapon slashed toward his side. He parried the attack upward and brought his sword down on the now-exposed opponent.

Shraaak!

The sharp blade of the holy sword was more than enough to slice through the mercenary, bones and all.

Blood sprayed across Ian, but the flames enveloping him instantly evaporated it.

“Whew.”

They weren’t weak. Their teamwork was better than expected. No wonder the soldiers were having trouble.

These mercenaries were far more dangerous than the average Level 4 fighters. An ordinary person would have been dead long ago.

Yet, despite their strength, Ian had slain six of them in less than a minute.

Only two mercenaries remained. They hesitated, clearly wondering if they should even continue.

“Magnificent!”

From behind, Semid clapped his hands, seemingly unconcerned about his dead soldiers.

“Useless fools!”

The woman, on the other hand, cursed angrily as she watched.

[Black Tide of the Outer Sea]

And then.

Rumble!

With an eerie sound, black water began to ooze from the woman’s shadow, spreading across the ground toward Ian, multiplying as it advanced.

The stream became a river, the river turned into a wave, and the wave grew into a tsunami.

“Pir?!”

“What is this!?”

The mercenaries’ faces paled as the dark tide swept over them. They hadn’t expected to be caught in the attack. But it was too late.

In an instant, the mercenaries disappeared beneath the wave. And next, it was Ian’s turn.

It was as if a black wall was closing in on him, but Ian remained calm. There was no reason to panic.

“Good thing.”

He recognized the magic.

This wasn’t the first time he had faced a Dark Mage. Counting before his regression, he had battled far more than just a handful.

Some of them had even reached Level 6, wielding magic of great power.

Thanks to his experiences with the Hero, Ian had learned a great deal about dark magic. There were many spells that, if mishandled, could lead to irreversible consequences.

The black tide before him was one of those spells. It was possible to avoid it, but that would be the wrong choice.

The wave could track its target and rise to whatever height it needed. Unless he could move faster than the magic could follow, the only real solution was to break through it.

‘So then.’

Whoosh!

Ian’s eyes gleamed as he lightly dragged the tip of his sword across the ground from left to right.

This seemingly simple action caused his mana to scatter in the air. The moment his sword left the ground, sparks flew, igniting the mana trail.

It was like fire spreading through oil. It wasn’t even a real technique.

Fwoosh!

The flames formed a wall that met the oncoming tide, engaging in a fierce struggle for dominance. A massive cloud of steam erupted as the fire clashed with the black water.

“What the hell is this guy!?”

The woman’s eyes twitched as the bodies and weapons of the mercenaries, who had been swallowed by the tide, fell to the ground with a thud.

Ian dashed down the hallway swiftly. The Dark Mage hurled more spells, but dodging them wasn’t too difficult.

In an instant, he closed the distance, ripped through her barrier, and drove his sword into her body.

Staggering, the woman collapsed backward. Ian smirked as he leaned on the sword’s hilt.

“Not much of a challenge, huh?”

It didn’t feel as tense as facing a monster.

The dying woman tried to speak but only coughed up blood. Yet, the malice in her eyes remained constant.

Just when Ian thought she hadn’t given up or accepted her fate, a sudden oppressive force bore down on him.

Schraaak!

Something came at him from behind. Using the holy sword as a pivot, Ian pushed off the ground and vaulted into the air.

Thwack!

From his upside-down vantage, Ian saw a blade strike the spot where he had just been standing. Had he not moved, he’d have been skewered.

“What the—?”

It was clearly the woman’s final attack, as her vision blurred and she muttered, frustration in her voice.

Ian looked down at her with disbelief before pulling his sword free from her body.

“So, where are the Red Spearmen? Did you come alone?”

“They’ll be here soon.”

“Then let’s go up.”

“What about the dead?”

“I thought you didn’t care, but I guess that’s not entirely true. Unfortunately, we can only clean up after the job’s done.”

“True enough. There’s a proper order to things. Let’s go.”

Semid tried to take the lead up the stairs but quickly stepped aside, letting Ian go first. He likely didn’t want to risk whatever might be waiting above.

With a chuckle at Semid’s antics, Ian ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the upper level, he found a large hall filled with stacked crates.

In one corner, a group of trembling people huddled together, likely the ones who had been packaging the drugs, spooked by the commotion below.

“This place is disgusting.”

Semid, who had been so bold earlier, now hesitated, stepping back. His face still held a smile, but his eyes were tense.

“Do you see it?”

“Can’t you? The violet energy—it’s everywhere. It’s writhing like it’s alive. Feels like it’s waiting for something but too starved to stay still. Damn, this is dangerous. If I keep watching, I might just lose it.”

Semid’s voice grew distant, almost dazed, as he shut his eyes and hung his head low.

Ian could see something similar—an ominous, faint mist flowing from the crates, seeping out like a dark fog.

“Go investigate.”

At Semid’s signal, the soldiers moved forward.

Unlike Semid and Ian, the soldiers, oblivious to the sinister presence, casually opened the lids and examined the contents.

Inside, the drug called Nightmare was meticulously packaged. The soldiers’ expressions darkened.

“This is all drugs?”

“There’s too much. It’s enough to flood all the nearby cities.”

The soldiers murmured amongst themselves. One of them, who had a particularly strong sense of justice, frowned and spoke up.

“Shouldn’t we burn it all except for one crate as evidence? What’s the point of keeping the rest?”

He was right. One crate would suffice as proof.

“That would be a problem.”

The soldier, startled by the voice, tried to turn around, but he never had the chance. With a chilling sound, his head was severed cleanly from his body.

He wouldn’t be alone on his journey to the afterlife. The three soldiers near him fell dead at nearly the same moment.

———-