A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 58

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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 58

“Where are you hiding? I know you’re in here somewhere.”

Pitch-black darkness draped the first floor of the Mountain Lodge.

Inside the narrow closet of the Dressing Room, Laila held her mouth firmly shut with both hands, barely breathing.

Through the crack in the closet door, the sound of rough, heavy military boots tramped haphazardly through the room.

“Tch, quit wasting my time and come out already. If you cooperate, I’ll kill you painlessly. Otherwise…” A low, odious chuckle. “We might have a little fun first.”

The laugh was repugnant, viscous.
But another man’s cold voice cut through the vile jest at once.

“We don’t have time for that. Stop talking nonsense and find her. Kill her the moment you do.”
“…Yeah, yeah. You’re such a stickler.”

A conversation utterly devoid of feeling—mechanical, chilling.
Huddled in the closet, Laila’s body trembled violently.

‘If only I could use Magic…’

Had they not been trapped in a Magical Vacuum, she would not be cowering in the darkness, quaking with fear.

But now, caught within the reach of the Magical Storm, her Magic was sealed.

Gulp—

Laila swallowed dryly.
She had always been calm, untouched by emotion, yet now her hands shook so violently she could not control them.

Murderous intent.

It was not merely the terror born of helplessness from being unable to cast Magic.

Someone truly meant to hurt her.
That malice—so vivid, so raw—licked down her spine, a sensation she could not deny.

This was why mages fresh to the battlefield panicked and fell helpless in actual combat, why the survival rate on first missions was so terribly low.

For those who had spent their entire lives in the greenhouse of academia, handling Magic as mere theory, encountering an animal’s savage desire to rend and slaughter was a fear beyond all experience.

Step, step.

The two sets of footsteps crossed the first-floor living space, then diverged, one drawing steadily closer to the Dressing Room.

“Mm……”

The owner of the footsteps sniffed audibly, the sound seeping through the closet’s seam.

“It smells nice in here. This doesn’t seem like where some dark, gloomy man lives.”
“Stop talking and find her faster. Wolfe said he’d make things difficult if we’re late.”
“Tch… I suppose so.”

The distance to the intruder closed. Laila’s pupils trembled finely.

‘What if… they find me…?’

She would be dragged out by force and, in the worst case, die a gruesome death. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs as horrific images flooded her mind.

Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Thump-thump!

The pounding was so loud she feared those outside could hear it through the door.
She wanted nothing more than to drive her fist into her own chest and silence the noise.

Laila’s trembling hand moved to her neck.
Fingers brushing, searching.

The Scale-Decorated Pendant hanging there touched her fingertips—the same one she’d clutched during the fire at Hazel Dorm, when death had come knocking. But almost at once, she bit down hard on her lip.

‘It’ll be too late.’

Even if she managed to reach someone now, help wouldn’t arrive before the door came open. She had no choice but to handle this herself.

‘If things stay like this… they’ll find me soon.’

Laila withdrew her hand from the pendant and clenched both fists tight.
Fists that carried an overwhelming, rule-breaking strength. Yet they had never been raised to kill.

‘The moment it opens, I strike.’

In the darkness, her eyes hardened with resolve. And with that resolution came a chilling thought.

‘If I fail….’

That was when it happened.

“Karl? Hey!”

The man rummaging through the Dressing Room called out to his companion outside. But there was no answer.

“Hey! Acknowledged. I’m still looking, so respond….”

Before he could finish.

“What the—!!”

A man’s panicked cry split the air.

Clang!

The sharp ring of clashing steel tore briefly through the darkness.

And then.

Thud.

Something heavy—like a slab of meat—crashed to the ground with a dull, violent sound.

“…….”

Laila’s shoulders tensed.
The clamor of steel and footsteps had vanished in an instant, as if it had never been.

‘They’re coming.’

She understood instinctively.

Soft… soft footsteps.

The faintest whisper of sound, barely a presence at all.
Then it stopped directly in front of the wardrobe where Laila hid.

Thump-thump, thump-thump! Her heart hammered against her ribs as if it would tear through bone and flesh.

‘Now.’

Laila drew in a breath, gathering every ounce of strength into her fists in that single moment.

Creak-eeeek—

The old wardrobe door swung open slowly, spilling forth a faint light suffused with an electric blue glow.

“Haaah!!”

Laila thrust her fist forward without hesitation, driving all her fear down and pouring everything into a single desperate blow.
All her strength hurled against the faceless killer who had come to claim her life.

Bwaaaaaang—!

The air in that cramped space compressed in its entirety and burst outward with such tremendous force that the explosion itself struck her eardrums. Yet the sensation of bone and flesh crunching beneath her knuckles never came.

‘Missed…!?’

The moment the door opened, the figure standing before it had tilted his head just slightly to the side, evading her destructive punch with perfect, fluid grace.

Whoosh—

The man rested his large, rough hand ever so gently upon Laila’s slender fist, which still hung suspended in the void.

“You appear unharmed.”

A low voice, dry and tinged with something familiar.

“…Huh?”

In the flash of lightning, Laila caught sight of the man’s face.

A man standing there drenched from head to toe in vivid crimson blood—across his face, his collar, even down to the very tip of the Longsword he gripped.

Aion Iscar.

“Ah…”

Despite the acrid stench of blood pouring from him, the moment their eyes met, Laila felt the taut cord of tension that had been wound through her body snap clean in two.

Slump—

Her legs gave way beneath her, all strength draining away, and she crumpled into Aion’s arms like a building collapsing.

***

Splash—!

The man’s eyes snapped open with an irritated gasp, his breathing harsh and ragged.

He tried to move his hands reflexively, but thick, coarse Rope bound his limbs firmly to a crude wooden chair.

“…Ugh.”

Darkness surrounded him.
The man waited for his eyes to adjust, then slowly turned his head, taking in his surroundings.

‘The others…’

In the dim outlines, he could make out his comrades—those who’d infiltrated with him—bound to chairs.
All of them hung limp and motionless, suggesting they hadn’t yet regained consciousness.

Click.
Then a small flame tore through the darkness, blooming to life. The flickering candle illuminated the narrow interior of the Mountain Lodge.

Now the condition of his bound comrades came sharply into focus.

“Gasp…”

The man’s breath caught in his throat.

They weren’t unconscious. Their chests were grotesquely caved in, their necks twisted at obscene angles, drenched in blood as they slumped in their chairs. Any eye could see they were corpses—pitiful remains left after unspeakable torture.

He alone had survived.

Aion, holding the candle, looked down at the man with an expressionless face and spoke.

“I’d prefer it if you answered my questions properly. There are no spare mouths left now.”

His cold voice echoed through the cramped space. In truth, these corpses hadn’t been tortured at all.

Aion had simply dragged them here, mutilated them, and strapped them to chairs.

Aion, a northerner who’d crossed the line between life and death since childhood, knew this well.
That fear—dangled right before the eyes—was a torture tool every bit as effective as pain itself.

The man’s pupils trembled violently, as if the ground were splitting beneath him.

“Crazy… are you a Guardian Knight?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Wait… you.”

The man’s mouth twisted as he made out Aion’s youthful face in the darkness.

“You’re a student here, aren’t you? What Guardian Knight? You’re just some kid playing tough…”

Scrape.

Before the man could finish, Aion’s Short Sword cut through the air without mercy.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

Watching his left ring finger fall cleanly to the floor, the man wept like rain and unleashed a desperate scream.

Aion held the blade—blood dripping from its edge—over the wavering candle flame and spoke in a flat tone.

“I don’t have time for long conversations. And frankly, I don’t even need your answers, so don’t burden yourself with any sense of duty to stay silent.”
“Khuagh, hah… hah…!”
“I’ve already extracted most of the information from those others. Your mouth is only useful for cross-verification.”

Writhing in agony, the man’s bloodshot eyes fixed on Aion as he spat out a curse.

“Stop joking around! Those bastards told you everything? Not a chance! They all….”
“Would you have the kind of loyalty to stay silent even under torture unto death?”
“…….”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Nobody has that kind of conviction.”

Aion heated the blade of his Short Sword in a Candle’s flame, his voice hollow and methodical.

“Who are you?”

The man’s shoulders trembled violently.

“Hgh… p-please… Hemostasis….”

The man thrashed and begged, cradling his severed fingers.
Aion’s eyes turned cold as winter.

“Don’t think of stalling me.”
“I-I’ll talk! Just do Hemostasis, please! If you plan to kill me anyway once you’ve heard everything, then I’ve got no reason to speak!”

Aion stared down at him for a moment, then stepped forward without a word and pressed hard against the severed edge.

“Ahhhhhhh!”
“…This is the last time I’m applying Hemostasis.”

With practiced efficiency, Aion performed pressure Hemostasis and wrapped the wound tightly with a blood-stained cloth, then met the man’s gaze once more.

“Now that I’ve gone to the trouble of saving your hand, answer all my questions truthfully and I’ll let you live—as a special exception.”
“You… you mean…?”
“After this is finished, you’ll be turned over to the Guardian Knights.”

The pragmatic compromise—sparing his life by handing him to the Guardian Knights—shook the man’s reason far more than any threat of immediate execution.

“……All right.”
“I’ll ask again. Who are you?”
“W-we’re just… mercenaries under Wolfe’s command.”
“The Irghas Triad, you mean.”

The man’s eyes widened in shock.

“Y-yes! You knew! We’re just a mercenary unit under their command.”
“How many of you?”
“…….”

As the man hesitated, Aion’s Short Sword began to gleam and move in his hand.

“O-over a hundred!”

At that answer, Aion’s brow furrowed darkly.
Over a hundred armed soldiers—a force that overwhelmingly outnumbered the Guardian Knights in the current Excion, where Magic was sealed.

“What’s your objective in attacking Excion?”
“Th-that’s….”
“I see.”
“N-no! Erebos!!!”

The man shouted desperately as Aion raised his Short Sword.

“…Erebos?”
“The Erebos Vault! That place! We were supposed to regroup there!! I bet Captain Wolfe and the main force have all headed there by now!”
“What are you after? An artifact?”
“I, I don’t know the details either. I just… heard we were supposed to make a pretty haul!”

Aion’s eyes turned cold. At that killing intent, the man thrashed and cried out desperately.

“I’m serious!!! A foot soldier like me really doesn’t know anything!!!”
“You don’t know anything worth knowing. Any last words?”
“You bastard! I told you everything! I’m… I…!”

Sensing death breathing down his neck, the man’s mind raced frantically.
He had to squeeze out something—anything of value—to survive.

Fortunately, a plausible piece of information surfaced.

“That… Commander Wolfe didn’t act alone… someone, someone might have been involved…!”
“…Go on.”
“I don’t know the details either, but not long ago, someone came to see Commander Wolfe. I don’t know who! They were wearing a robe. I just know it’s connected to this whole thing.”
“…Did that person incite you?”
“Well, wouldn’t they have to? An aerial drop by airship over an academy city wracked by Magical Storm… even Commander Wolfe couldn’t come up with something this insane on his own!”

It was information that struck home.
An outside mercenary force had timed the Magical Storm with precision and exploited Excion’s vulnerability to descend.
There was evidence of an internal conspirator—or a powerful backer with vast knowledge—at work.

Tap.

Aion placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke with measured calm.

“The most useful thing I’ve heard from you yet. That statement just bought you your life.”
“Gasp… gasp…”

Aion turned and headed toward the Mountain Lodge door.

“Wait, wait! What about me?”
“Once I’m done, I’ll hand you over to the Guardian Knights.”
“No! If I go to Erebos, I’m dead! I die, you understand!”
“Then I’ll pray you don’t die, as you say. Your life depends on me, after all.”
“Damn it!!!!”

Aion ignored the man’s furious shouts behind him and grasped the door handle. In the end, it was a plea not to die.

At that moment, Daeji’s Ultimate Version, buried deep in his mind, called out to Aion in urgent tones.

【Daeji: Aion. Whether this is an Arrival or a Manifestation… it’s unclear, but I want to tell you that you mustn’t sit idle.】

A warning about disaster, heard after so long. Aion’s eyes sharpened.

“What’s happening at Erebos?”

【Daeji: The Irghas Triad steals a certain artifact from Erebos today as part of this operation. And later, that object will ultimately….】
【Mado: Stop. You mustn’t say more. Temporal energy is about to spiral out of control.】

Mado’s Ultimate Version cut through Daeji’s words with cold precision.
Daeji’s Ultimate Version cried out, frustrated.

【Daeji: Damn it!! This is driving me mad! Either way, you have to stop them! You must stop them at all costs!】
【Mado: Aion, the choice is yours. You….】

“I’m going.”

He had no doubts whatsoever.

【Mado: …….】

“I’m going.”

The moment Aion resolved his will with finality, a system window flashed before his eyes—painfully, vividly red.

Ding—!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[!] Task completed.
[!] Reward granted: All Ability Stats +3
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A weighty flow of Mana Power coursed through his entire body; his flesh strengthened.

Unlike the usual meager increases of one or two points per stat, the overwhelming sensation of all his abilities rising at once drew a sharp breath from Aion.

“Hah….”

Creak—

It was Laila.

“Because I have to.”

“I also…….”

A girl who had seemed to live her entire life in numbness.

Laila lifted her trembling hand and carefully grasped the rough hand that Aion had placed across her shoulder.
Then she asked.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

Laila’s gaze lingered on the back of Aion’s hand.

Her own hand shook so violently it was beyond her control, yet the hand she’d grasped remained perfectly steady—not a tremor in it.

It was cold as ice, and unyielding.

Soft rustling.
Aion slowly withdrew his hand from her shoulder.
He pulled the hood of his rain-soaked robe deep over his head and secured the longsword at his waist with a firm grip.

Fear was there.
…But,

“I’m used to it.”

He plunged into the storm.

The Talentless Mage Devours the Calamitous Future Episode 58

Author
Wang Mozi
Published by
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover
Dali

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0058

ⓒ2026. Wang Mozi

※ This e-book is protected under the copyright law of the Republic of Korea.
No part or whole 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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