A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 57

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 57

Above the violet-rippling sea of clouds that was the Mana Storm.
A terrible roar that no one could have imagined was tearing through the sky.

Churrrrrrrr—!

A massive iron-clad airship belching thick black smoke instead of mana, cutting through the tempest.

“Aha ha ha ha! The view is absolutely killing!”

It was not the refined culmination of Magical Engineering technology.
A crude and bizarre heretical weapon—a ramshackle contraption burning primitive fossil fuels to spin its turbines.

Yet within this terrible storm that devoured mana, this primitive airship possessed a freedom that no magical device in the world could match.

“We’re actually flying, aren’t we? This insane heap of scrap metal is cutting right through the Mana Storm!”
“Shut your mouth!”

On the airship’s deck.
In the midst of the thick bloodlust and reek of sweat emanating from hundreds of armed men, a man carrying an enormous War Hammer across his shoulders laughed heartily.

“My plan is absolutely flawless, wouldn’t you say?”
“Targeting Excion with an airship in the middle of a Mana Storm. When I first heard your plan, Wolf, I was skeptical.”

A man bearing a long scar across one eye chuckled at the guffawing Wolf.

“When have you ever seen me say something wrong, Zenon?”
“Often. In fact, the times you’re right are few and far between.”
“Ugh…”
“Ria, how much longer until we reach the drop point?”

A woman with a black star tattooed on her face answered with an alluring laugh.

“Two minutes until descent. Everyone, be ready. The winds are severe, but… we’ll make it work somehow.”
“Fufufu… Those mage bastards could never have imagined this. That we’d be dropping down from above the storm.”
“By now, those high and mighty Guardian Knights of Excion must be cowering inside the darkened academy.”
“Worse than training dummies, every last one of them.”

Wolf gazed down through the round porthole beyond the helm.
Through the downpour and howling winds, the outline of the massive academy city plunged into pitch darkness began to materialize faintly.

“There it is.”

At Wolf’s voice, more than a hundred soldiers filling the deck gripped their weapons in unison.

Their target now was the cradle of mages and the resting place of dangerous treasures.

“Excion.”

Wolf grinned, baring blood-stained teeth.

***

At that same moment. In a dilapidated cabin on the outskirts of Excion, at the edge of Mistbeil Forest.

…….

Standing by the window, watching the lights throughout the heart of Excion blink out in unison, Aion felt a sudden prickle of unease and lifted his gaze to the sky.

In the pitch darkness and torrential rain. In the split second a violet bolt of lightning split the roiling clouds,

Krrrrrumble…

A massive shadow like a second moon burned itself into Aion’s retinas.

‘A moon?’

No.
With the Mana Storm tearing across the heavens, the moon could never be visible.
When lightning flashed again, Aion’s eyes snapped wide in shock.

‘…An airship?’

There was no doubt. It was an airship.

In this tempest where mana was completely severed, such a colossal mass of metal was flying through the sky.
Aion’s brow furrowed in bewilderment at that very moment.

Whomp!

Bang! Bang!

The airship’s lower hatch swung open, and black dots began pouring down into the night sky. Soon they scattered across the air.

And before long, hundreds of black parachutes blossomed open.

A massive aerial assault.

But in the heart of the storm.
The vicious gales showed their plans no mercy.

Whooooooosh—!

The hundreds of parachutes that had meant to descend in formation lost all control in the savage wind, scattering throughout Excion.

Watching this unfold, Aion’s gaze turned ice-cold.

‘Damn it. They’re coming this way too.’

Four parachutes, pushed by the fierce wind, were descending rapidly toward the forest where the cabin—where Aion and Laila were—stood.

Barely a minute remained before they touched ground.

Aion’s instinct drew his gaze to the opposite window. Beyond the fogged glass, he could make out Laila’s face.

Her fingers traced urgent letters across the frosted pane.

[ W H A T N O W ? ]

Aion, reading those words, wrote back without hesitation—just two letters on the condensation of his own window.

[ H I D E ]

He did not know the enemy’s scale or their purpose. Combat in a state where magic was forbidden.

A situation that would send even a seasoned mage trembling into panic.

Aion stepped back from the window, and in the same breath turned his thoughts urgently toward the presences in his mind.

“We’re running out of time. Does anyone know of events connected to this crisis?”

The three great mages who had warned that this catastrophe was a harbinger of something when Excion’s lights went dark.

But Suryu and Saengmyeong denied it urgently.

【Suryu: This is different from what I experienced. In my memory, there was no aerial assault like this.】
【Saengmyeong: Same here. Nothing like this happened during the storm. What I went through was something entirely different.】

As Aion clicked his tongue sharply and moved to gather his weapons, a voice—heavy and cold—resonated through his mind.

【Daeji: The Irghas Trio.】

It was Daeji’s Extreme Point speaking.

【Daeji: On the day the Mana Storm raged, the Irghas Trio attacked Excion.】
【Hwayeom: They attacked Excion? The Irghas Trio—I’ve heard of them, but were they ever this bold?】
【Daeji: It seems only I know the full truth of this crisis, so don’t clutter the matter with speculation. As for the Irghas Trio—the information you possess differs greatly from reality.】

Whiiiiiii—

The sound of them cutting through the gale outside the window drew closer.

“First we need to respond. What do we do?”

Several of them would soon be dropping near this location.

Daeji’s Extreme Point spoke gravely.

【Daeji: You’re asking whether we should fight?】

Aion shook his head silently. Fighting was already inevitable. What he truly meant to ask, Daeji’s Extreme Point had already grasped.

【Daeji: You’re asking whether we must kill them.】

Nod.

Aion affirmed calmly. He was currently a student enrolled at Excion.

Could he kill them while in that position?

But Daeji’s Extreme Point resolved his hesitation with absolute finality.

【Daeji: One. Only one.】

“….”

【Daeji: All but one must die.】

You can kill them.

【Daeji: They will kill you. On that day I lived through, countless students died horribly or were wounded, and more than half the Guardian Knights were torn to shreds.】

Her voice drove a wedge into Aion’s heart.

【Daeji: If you don’t kill them, you will die.】

Yes. You can kill them.

Thump!

The sound of heavy military boots striking mud not far beyond the window reached his ears.

A parachute caught in the branches, rustling faintly, and with it came an alien, ominous killing intent that began to encircle the cabin.

A palpable, tangible bloodlust—distinct enough to take on shape.
The enemies were spreading it in all directions.

In that suffocating tension, a familiar blue light flickered across Aion’s retinas.

Ding!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[!] A new Task has been assigned.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
『Task: The Hunter’s Night』
― 『Task Overview: Exploiting the malfunction in Excion’s Mana Power maintenance apparatus, lethal uninvited guests have surrounded your sanctuary. In this pitch darkness where magic is forbidden, you must survive.』
― 『Objective: Eliminate and neutralize the hostile forces encircling the cabin.』
― 『Assigned Reward: All Stats +3』
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Aion glanced at the reward list hovering in empty air and let out a short, silent laugh.

All Stats +3.

That Yggdrasil—who typically doled out Stats in miserly increments of one or two—had set such a generous reward meant the enemies surrounding the cabin represented a threat of an entirely different order than usual.

Perhaps Tasks steeped in slaughter came with heavier compensation.

Whisk.

Aion reached for the short sword resting on the worn bed. The cool blade slid free from its scabbard, glinting faintly in the darkness.

His face reflected in the steel.
A face that seemed not merely calm but utterly expressionless, even in this perilous moment.

Excion, stripped of magic.

But for Aion Iskar, hunting humans was something he had always done as easily as breathing—with or without magic.

Slip.

He melted soundlessly into the pitch darkness.

***

A torrent of heavy rain poured down!

At the edge of Mistbeil Forest, where fierce downpours swept across the land, four figures had crash-landed onto the muddy ground near the cabin.

“Damn this wind… why’d we have to drop in this godforsaken place.”
“No time. Form up and head straight for the central zone.”

As they were shaking mud from themselves and preparing to move, one member of the group stopped in his tracks.

He turned his head, quietly studying the faint silhouettes of two dilapidated cabins emerging from the darkness ahead.
They looked like abandoned ruins, yet something—an instinct—whispered otherwise.

“Wait.”

His gaze swept across the gaps in the cabin’s flimsy windows.

“…Looks like someone’s living here?”
“We don’t have time. Let’s just go.”
“That’ll leave me uneasy. I’m checking first.”

The one who’d been protesting clicked his tongue sharply.

“Tch… That twisted taste of his.”
“What if some cute Excion student shows up?”
“Who cares. A mage, right now they can’t even use Mana. We just make sure they die screaming.”

A sickly laugh echoed through the darkness.

“Boris and I will take this one. You two, handle the other cabin.”

The four moved through the rain, splitting into pairs.

Two headed toward Laila’s cabin, while the remaining pair advanced without hesitation toward Aion’s.

Creeeeak—

Aion’s cabin door groaned open with an irritable screech.
Rain swept into the dark first-floor living space. Two mercenaries dragged mud-caked boots across the threshold.

“Not even locked the door, and off in such a hurry somewhere~?”

One of them hummed mockingly. Then the man who’d entered behind him paused, his nostrils flaring.

“……I smell body heat.”
“What?”
“Someone’s been living here. Don’t wander off alone.”

The one in front snorted at the warning.

“Huh? Don’t order me around. I’m not taking orders from you.”

He moved toward the table in the center of the living room and examined the candlestick resting on it.

Running a bare finger across the wax, his mouth stretched into a cruel smile.

“Still warm. There’s a little rat hiding somewhere in this house.”
“Good. At least we won’t waste our time.”

In the darkness, a blade gleamed with keen edge as it was drawn. The man behind him issued another caution.

“Hey! Be careful.”
“Ha! Scared? The Mana Storm’s still raging out there. Why would I fear people who can’t even cast spells?”

He tapped the flat of his sword against his shoulder, speaking with arrogance.

“Stop wasting time talking. You check the first floor. I’m heading up to the second.”
“…Tch.”

Ignoring his companion’s protest, he placed a foot on the creaking wooden stairs and bounded up to the second floor.

Creak-creak—

Creak.

As he climbed the stairs, the musty smell of rotting wood gave way to something sharper—the scent of a human presence, growing stronger with each step.

“So you’re up here~?”

His voice emerged thin and reedy, like a child playing hide-and-seek.

“Hide well, now. It wouldn’t be fun if you were too easy to find.”

The man entered the narrow corridor on the second floor, blade hanging loose at his side as he peered into the darkness.
An old full-length mirror leaned against the wall at the far end of the passage.

In the dim corridor, the mirror caught faint light from the window and cast back a grotesque reflection.

The man passed in front of the mirror and glanced at its surface, checking what lay behind him. Nothing. Only suffocating darkness pressed against the glass.

“Not here, then….”

He was already turning toward another room, losing interest, when it happened.

Crack-crack-crack—!

A tremendous bolt of lightning tore across the sky outside, blazing white for barely a second—yet in that fraction of time, it flooded the second-floor corridor with daylight clarity.

“Tch, damn—”

The man furrowed his brow and glanced back at the mirror almost reflexively. In that brilliant flash, the glass revealed a truth it had hidden before.

Behind him. Precisely: above him, on the ceiling.

Aion hung from the corridor’s overhead—legs splayed against both walls, body suspended like some enormous spider, silent and motionless, staring down at him.

“Wha—”

The man’s eyes were already widening, his mouth falling open—

Whoosh—!

Screech—!

Aion descended from the ceiling in a graceful arc and drew his old short sword through the man’s throat in one smooth, lethal stroke.

No struggle. No scream. The man’s hands flew to his neck, fingers clutching at the hot arterial spray, his eyes rolling back as his knees buckled beneath him.

As he collapsed, Aion caught him with surprising gentleness, his body already lowering to the floor.
No sound. Aion used the man’s own weight against him, settling the corpse silently against the wooden boards.

He withdrew the long sword from the dying man’s belt with practiced quiet, then dissolved back into the suffocating black.

“…Hey?”

His voice came from downstairs once, twice more. The second man, searching the first floor, sensed something amiss and started up the stairs to the second level.

“Hey! Stop playing games and answer me!”

The moment he reached the top of the stairs, a sharp, metallic reek hit him full in the face.

“…Blood.”

Blood stains smeared the corridor. His face went rigid. This was no jest.

Screee―!

The man drew his blade in panic, gripping it tight with both hands.
As he sharpened his senses in the darkness, a foreign scent cut through the reek of blood—something different from his fallen comrade.

‘This way.’

He crept forward into the inner room, footsteps muffled.
The closer he came to the doorway, the stronger the unknown odor grew. The moment he crossed the threshold, he saw a comrade sprawled on the floor—neck half severed, a sight of pure horror.

“You… damn bastard.”

His teeth ground together.
Then, from the decrepit wardrobe deeper in the room, the foreign scent poured out thick and heavy, mingled now with the copious blood-reek of his fallen ally.

‘In there.’

The man held his breath and approached the wardrobe. Without hesitation, he raised his blade high.

“You there!!”

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! He plunged his sword through the flimsy wardrobe door in a frenzy.

But the blade met no dull resistance, no sensation of cleaving flesh.

Only the feeling of tearing thin cloth.

“…What?”

He wrenched the wardrobe door open in confusion.
Inside hung nothing but an Excion uniform jacket, drenched in blood. The source of both the scent and the reek.

“……Damn!”

The instant he realized the trap, he spun around—

Whoosh―!

A brutal kick erupted from the darkness, slamming mercilessly into his ribs.

“Gahhh!”

He lost his footing and crashed hard into the narrow wardrobe he’d just pierced with his sword.

Bang―!

Aion slammed the wardrobe door shut without mercy.

He thrust his Long Sword into the wardrobe door the same way the man had, pinning it closed.

Thunk!

“Ahhhhh!”

Thunk!

“Ugh…!”

Thump!

His face bore no expression whatsoever.
Aion gripped the hilt with both hands and drove the blade deep, then steadied his breathing and waited.

The shaking within the wardrobe and the thrashing of something desperate to live soon ceased.
Once Aion confirmed the wardrobe had gone completely still, he withdrew the sword he’d thrust inside.

Slide—

The long sword, stained crimson with blood, came free smoothly.

Thud.

Beyond the door, the heavy weight of a body struck the ground with a dull, sickening sound.
When Aion opened the wardrobe door, a man riddled with puncture wounds lay grotesquely contorted in death, drenched in blood.

Whip—

With an expressionless face, Aion flicked his wrist, scattering the blood from the blade in sharp, successive drops.

He moved toward the window and looked out. The rain and wind still lashed fiercely against the glass. His gaze fixed on Laila’s cabin across the way.

The second-floor window of Laila’s cabin, hazy with mist.
Where he had written letters with his breath earlier, new characters now marked the pane.

[ H E R E ]

And Aion’s gaze dropped lower. The first-floor door of Laila’s cabin—which should have been locked tight—stood wide open in the pitch darkness.

Aion immediately headed toward the cabin across from his.

Neither the torrential rain nor the lightning could announce his arrival.

The Talentless Mage Swallows a Calamitous Future — Episode 57

Author
Wang Mozhi
Publisher
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover Design
Dali

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0057

ⓒ2026. Wang Mozhi

※ This electronic book is protected under the Copyright Law of the Republic of Korea.
No part of this work may be reproduced or modified in any form without the permission of the author and publisher.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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