Chapter 522: A Dark Magic Defence
[In the meantime... somewhere far down south]
A wounded man forced himself up the hill towards the majestic palace that stood proudly over the city of Dago.
It had been a painfully difficult journey to reach this point. Days, or perhaps even more than a month had passed; he had long lost track of time, having travelled solely on foot.
To make matters worse, enemy hunting forces had been tracking down the remaining soldiers of Barges who had fled the battlefield. He had been among the survivors, constantly hiding to avoid capture, which had further prolonged his escape.
After what felt like a lifetime, he finally arrived at his destination.
"Take me to the king!" the man shouted, his voice raw with agony.
His body was covered in untreated wounds, poorly bandaged with scraps of cloth he had gathered along the way. He forced himself forward, despite a badly infected foot that reeked of rot and was swarmed by flies. Still, he had a duty to return and report to his king.
"Get out of here, you filthy mutt! This isn’t a place for beggars!" the gatekeeper shouted, raising his spear to drive the man away.
"How dare you! I am Lord Sygill, His Majesty’s warlord! Open the gate and take me to him!"
With trembling fingers, the man drew a weathered insignia badge inside his coat.
At the sight of the badge, the gatekeeper froze. Lord Sygill’s filthy and dishevelled appearance had rendered him unrecognisable.
"My deepest apologies, my lord!"
The gates were quickly opened, and carriers were dispatched to assist the injured warlord and escort him to the king. At the same time, word was sent ahead to notify King Emir of the urgent arrival.
Lord Sygill was led into the main hall, and almost immediately, the king burst into the room.
"What happened?" the king demanded, eyes wide with shock at the sight of his trusted warlord in such a state. "I’ve sent multiple messengers to the battlefield, but none returned, and you didn’t even send back a single carrier pigeon with news!"
Lord Sygill met the king’s gaze, frustration etched deep across his face.
"We’ve lost the war, Your Majesty! Our troops were utterly defeated! The enemy’s tactics were so precise and overwhelming that we couldn’t even ask for reinforcements or transmit a single report to you!" Lord Sygill cried out.
"What??" King Emir exclaimed in alarm. "That’s impossible! Ardel couldn’t have been that strong! They were already engaged in conflict at the Agathe Islands! How could they possibly counter us?"
"The Ardel battalion returned from the islands much earlier than expected. They ambushed and struck relentlessly, giving us no chance to retaliate... and it wasn’t just them! The Northerners, along with the pirates and mercenaries, joined their side! Their forces tripled ours, and the Cassian armies... they were unbelievably strong and agile. We’ve lost it completely!" Lord Sygill reported, his voice ragged with defeat.
"No! You’re lying!" King Emir shouted, refusing to believe it.
"It’s the truth, Your Majesty! Our best men... all of them... were killed in battle. Even the second battalion, which infiltrated through western Narthen, was crushed in a matter of weeks! We were ambushed while advancing toward Ardel. It was as if they knew every route we’d take, or every military movement! Our weapons and supply convoys were targeted and destroyed before we could react!"
King Emir clenched his jaw, a vein bulging at his neck as fury surged through him.
"There must be a mole!" he growled. "Someone is feeding them information!"
"I fear the same, Your Majesty! I don’t know how Ardel suddenly managed to sway Cassian forces and those hired pirates and mercenaries to their side. What’s more, it seemed the Northerners were leading them all!"
"Blast it!" King Emir roared, unable to contain his rage.
Suddenly, a thick black haze began to seep from his body. His fingers elongated into claws, his eyes turned a devilish, blood-red hue, and his form became hideous.
Lord Sygill trembled in horror as his king underwent the terrifying transformation. In moments, King Emir had become something no longer human—something far more terrifying.
The creature stepped forward, eyes blazing with contempt. Lord Sygill, weakened by injury, exhaustion, and fear, couldn’t move. He knew all too well what this form meant. The king’s rage had awakened his dark magic.
"Your Majesty, please... spare—!"
The plea never finished.
A sickening thud echoed as a severed head fell to the floor, blood splattering the once clean and lavish carpet.
The guards stationed at the open double doors froze in horror, rooted in place at the sight.
And the onslaught continued. The king, now a creature of rage, ripped through what remained of Lord Sygill, slashing with monstrous claws in a merciless frenzy.
Limbs and organs—everything once forming a man—were scattered across the floor, torn apart by the king’s heinous hands. The scene was so gruesome that the guards shut their eyes and trembled, too afraid to witness it.
Yet, they dared not flee. They knew that if they did, they too would be slaughtered by the merciless king.
Only when King Emir had finished his rampage did he return to his human form. Blood splattered across his face and soaked into his royal attire.
"You shouldn’t have come back just to tell me this worthless news," he spat, wiping the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.
An eerie smirk curled on his lips.
"So... they want to play hard, huh? Ardel and Cassian are working together, no doubt. Whatever the reason may be, I don’t care. Nice try. But I won’t let them get away with this."
He turned towards one of the trembling guards.
"Bring me Dagan Hayes," he commanded.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the guard responded, then sprinted from the hall as fast as he could.
Before long, a middle-aged man appeared, escorted by the guard, carrying an item. His features strongly resemble Derek Hayes, marking him clearly as kin.
He bowed deeply before the king. The carnage of blood, flesh, and bone strewn across the hall did not faze him. Yet, a different worry clouded his eyes.
"Our armies have failed to conquer Ardel. The Cassians are now supporting them, and they are against us!" said King Emir coldly. "Distribute the Laradie Plague drugs to our soldiers. We’re unleashing the catalyst of the disease on the continent!"
"I’m afraid we can’t, Your Majesty," the man replied solemnly.
The king’s brow rose sharply.
"Why not?"
"I just came from the drug storage. It’s infested with rats," Dagan reported. "All of the drugs are contaminated, along with the raw materials used to produce them. As you know, the main sources came from Ardel, and now that they’ve turned against us, we can no longer obtain new supplies."
"Didn’t you try to save any of it?" the king asked, alarmed. "Can’t it still be used?"
"I tried. But nothing was salvageable. Contaminated drugs and ingredients can’t be used. Not unless you want to cause a different disease entirely and endanger your men," Dagan explained firmly.
"D*mn it!" King Emir cursed, fury bubbling up once more.
The black haze began rising from his body, an ominous sign of his dark magic awakening again, but the man remained unfazed.
"Calm yourself, Your Majesty," he said nonchalantly. "If you kill me, there’ll be no one left to feed you your power. You know well that dark magic isn’t like mana. It doesn’t regenerate on its own. You need me for that, especially since Derek isn’t here."
The haze receded slowly, retreating into the king’s skin.
King Emir looked at Dagan with disdain. Unlike his younger brother Derek, Dagan was more focused on his ambitions. He had never sought favour or titles from the king and was only interested in gaining power through magical experiments.
Since Derek had been sent on his mission, Dagan, lured by the king’s persuasion and generous rewards, acted as his replacement mage—performing dark rituals to sustain the king’s magic and overseeing the kidnapped professors and researchers assigned to create the cure for the Laradie.
"You should’ve reported this to me earlier! Why are you only telling me now?" the king barked furiously.
"Weren’t you the one who ordered me to go up the mountains for several months to conduct dark energy experiments?" Dagan replied, unmoved. "I only just returned. I left the storage monitoring to the assistants you appointed while I was gone. It seems they failed to perform their duties to inspect the supplies regularly and properly and keep them well."
The king cursed again, his rage reigniting.
"Get all those worthless assistants and kill them!" he ordered his guards. "Hang their corpses on the outer palace poles for public display!"
The guards hurried off to carry out the execution.
King Emir stood fuming, his mind spinning. His armies had been crushed. The Laradie cure was gone. The vital resources to create more drugs were now out of reach.
He was left with nothing—no weapon, no leverage, no retaliation.
The king cursed repeatedly, pacing back and forth in agitation.
If only he could unleash his rage on Dagan. The mage’s blank, unreadable expression was an eyesore and a quiet insult, as if the defeat wouldn’t impact him.
"Are you just going to stand there and do nothing?" the king shouted. "We’re under threat! What if Ardel and Cassian strike back?"
Dagan remained composed. He snapped his fingers, and the guard standing behind him stepped forward on cue, holding a small box in his hands.
"I have something for you," said the mage. "This is the result of my experiment. It’s powerful, though it doesn’t serve as a weapon, nor will it last forever. Open it."
King Emir approached and flipped open the lid. Inside lay a glass orb, black as pitch and radiating an eerie, unnatural aura. Just looking at it sent chills through him. It felt haunted, as though something inside it was alive and watching.
"What is this?" the king asked warily.
"It’s amplified dark force. It holds three times the strength of the usual dark magic you consume," Dagan explained.
King Emir’s eyes widened. He instinctively reached out, eager to seize the power, only to be stopped by the mage’s warning.
"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This isn’t meant for your consumption," the mage said calmly. "Rather, in this form, it will consume your life instead."
The king pulled back his hand instantly. The guard holding the box trembled at the revelation, but dared not move. His life wouldn’t be spared either if he threw the box.
"Then what’s the point of showing me this?" the king scoffed. "A power I can’t even use. What good is it?"
Dagan smirked.
"It can be used as a barrier. Once planted on the ground, it will immediately grow into twisted, barbed thorns, impenetrable to any iron or human force. No one can cross into Barges while it stands as your shield. Of course, no one can go out too."
King Emir’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. At last, he had something... a strong defence against a future invasion.
"Then we’ll plant these all over the kingdom!" he said with growing excitement.
"Only surrounding, not through it," Dagan corrected. "I told you. It serves as a barrier. It will form a long wall and rise high up to the sky. You wouldn’t want that to grow in the middle of the kingdom. It would be a nuisance."
"Right, right," the king said, waving his hand dismissively, as if the warning held no importance.
"And not by the sea, either. It cannot come into contact with seawater," Dagan added, more sternly this time.
"Why not?" the king asked, curious.
"Because the sea has its own master," the mage explained. "The one who once controlled the sea was the Great Khasif, the first emperor of Ro’an. They called him ’the Master of the Seven Seas’. Even though the emperor has long perished, the sea remains his domain. Therefore, it won’t submit to this force."
King Emir’s expression darkened. A breach via the sea was still possible. But he didn’t seem as anxious as before.
"Our ports are far to the south, and we’ve fortified them well. Even if someone attempts a seaborne attack from the other parts of Barges’s waters, they won’t be able to dock as the shoreline is treacherous and rigged. That will buy us time to be prepared," he said.
"You’ll gain the upper hand if they come by sea," Dagan added. "Our defence can detect large-scale movements from the surveillance towers. A ranged attack can neutralise them before they even get close. So yes, this dark force will be a valuable advantage."
At last, King Emir managed a faint smile.
But the mage wasn’t done.
"However," he continued, "as I mentioned, this power won’t last forever. After about a year or so, it will wilt and die."
"Why?" asked the king.
"Because dark force does not regenerate on its own. Once put to use, it will begin to diminish, unlike real mana," the mage explained.
"How do you know?" the king snapped. "You’ve only been experimenting on it for a while!"
The mage gave him a mocking smile.
"Do you think this is short-term work? Those times were only to refine and finalise it. I didn’t present it earlier because it wasn’t ready."
"Fine! It’s better than nothing," the king grumbled. "Since you’re already involved, take it and do what needs to be done. You are in charge since you know best, and we also can’t afford any delays! In the meantime, "I’ll uncover the mole who betrayed me and leaked my plans to the enemies!"
"A mole?" the mage echoed, intrigued.
The king nodded grimly.
"That’s what this useless warlord told me. Apparently, someone knows everything about our strategy. It has to be a person from within the palace!" he growled. "Once I find him, I’ll tear him to pieces!"
"Very well, Your Majesty," Dagan replied, bowing slightly with a smirk.
The king turned away, muttering in disgust.
"Also... get someone to clean up this mess! The useless corpse made me lose my appetite!"
"As you wish," the mage said, watching the king leave the hall.