Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 73

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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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Chapter 73
“What—where in blazes did such an army come from?!”
Baron Balbon’s shriek tore across the battlefield.
At one edge of the field.
From behind Baron Hardun’s camp, an endless column of skeletons came surging forward.
Their sheer size was overwhelming.
Medium Skeleton Soldiers towered a full head taller than human soldiers.
These skulls wore armor, their frames wrapped head to toe in weaponry.
Watching them advance toward the battlefield was nothing short of terrifying.
And the numbers were the real problem.
At a glance, there had to be several thousand.
Not quite four thousand, but certainly more than two.
Perhaps three thousand?
An insane number.
Balbon had scraped together soldiers from his own lands and mercenaries borrowed from every corner—barely a thousand—yet those skeletons alone numbered three thousand!
When combined with Hardun’s own forces, the total approached four thousand.
A four-to-one advantage.
He could only stand appalled.
That wave of skeletons, churning up dust as it rolled forward, was like a tsunami crashing down from the horizon itself.
Balbon wasn’t the only one shocked.
Disturbance rippled through the observation stands erected on both sides of the field.
The two observers—one sent by Count Salkatna, the other by Count Colando—exchanged glances of alarm.
Their role was to watch and record this Territorial War on behalf of the two counts.
Each observer was accompanied by a knight and roughly twenty guards—not for combat, but for protection.
The Salkatna-side observer stared up at the skeleton column and muttered under his breath.
“That’s… skeleton soldiers? The sheer number…?”
The Colando-side observer couldn’t close his mouth.
Still, their duty remained.
Both observers stepped toward the center of the field and called out to the lords of both sides.
Baron Hardun and Baron Balbon each rode their mounts to the middle of the battlefield.
Balbon glared at Hardun and shouted.
“You wretch! Where in the depths of the world did you scrape together such a force?”
Hardun stroked his mustache and answered with casual composure.
“I have my connections. These are the troops of Baron Tay, from the Harundel Marquessate.”
“Tay?”
Balbon had never heard the name.
Hardly surprising. The speed of information in this age was painfully slow.
The Goldmanta Bank offered a magical telegraph service, but it was expensive.
Intelligence about distant territories concerned only the great lords—counts and above—not some backward baron from the borderlands. There was no reason for Balbon to know the name of a distant nobleman.
The distance from Balbon’s domain in the Colando Countdom to the Harundel Marquessate was enormous.
You could fit three countries the size of Korea in between.
That such a baron would march an army across that vast distance just to join a war made him either mad or utterly ruthless.
Of course, from Tay’s perspective, it was simple.
The undead didn’t sleep, so they could march day and night without rest. They didn’t need food, so no supply lines were necessary. A march that would take a human army months, skeleton soldiers completed without pause.
The observer stepped forward.
“My lords. On behalf of Count Salkatna and Count Colando, we hereby observe this Territorial War. Let both sides commence hostilities according to the established rules.”
It was a formal declaration.
“Return to your respective positions.”
Hardun pulled his reins and turned his horse, his expression serene.
Balbon, his face drained of color, galloped toward his own camp.
One thousand soldiers—scraped together from every source.
Of these, fewer than three hundred could be called elite troops.
The mercenaries were better than the common levies, but hardly what you’d call seasoned warriors.
Whoooosh—
The war trumpet sounded, signaling the battle’s start.
The war had begun.
* * *
Tay stood on the Undead Palanquin with arms folded, surveying the field below.
This palanquin was larger and taller than an ordinary one.
Carried by twelve skeleton soldiers, it was practically a mobile watchtower.
From that vantage point, he could see everything sprawled below him, all the way to the horizon.
“Advance.”
The command was terse.
Three thousand Medium Skeleton Soldiers moved in unison.
A wave.
There was no other word for it. A wave of skulls swept across the battlefield toward the encampment of Baron Balbon.
They did not march in orderly intervals. They poured forward in all directions at once, a tide advancing on every flank.
Left wing, center, right wing—all simultaneously. No escape.
Baron Balbon’s soldiers formed a defensive line. They braced shields and leveled spears.
The seasoned veterans held their ground, but the conscripts’ legs were already trembling.
The wave of skulls drew nearer.
Fifty meters. Thirty meters. Ten meters.
Impact.
Crash! Crack! Crunch!
“Aaaaahhhhh!”
“Noooooo!”
Like a sandcastle built on a beach.
Obliterated by a single wave.
The Medium Skeleton Soldiers possessed strength exceeding that of ordinary men, and their armor gave them sufficient mass to deliver devastating blows.
A war club descended and skulls cracked. A halberd fell and soldiers’ heads were pulped in an instant.
Shields gave way. Spears shattered. Human soldiers were driven backward, stumbled, and skeletal feet trampled over their bodies.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
“Run! Run!”
It was inevitable that the conscripts broke first.
They abandoned their spears and fled in panic.
And with that, the formation collapsed entirely.
Before the knights could even advance, the infantry was already routed!
“Exploding Flames!”
A massive fireball arced through the skeleton soldiers and detonated, dozens of them crumbling and shattering in the blast.
But the breach sealed itself in moments.
Even the destroyed ones reassembled and rose again!
“This—what in—instantly restoring the undead!?”
The mercenary mage who had cast the attack spell stared in horror.
In his understanding, instantaneously restoring undead required an enormous expenditure of dark magic!
He could not know that the endless dark power granted by the Hellheart of Undying Life made such things possible.
What followed was scarcely combat at all—a one-sided massacre.
Baron Balbon sat mounted on his horse, his face drained of color, watching the carnage unfold. At last he turned to the observers and shouted.
“I surrender! We surrender!”
The horn sounded again.
From the start of battle to the declaration of surrender.
It had taken less than half an hour.
* * *
Word spread quickly.
After the war ended, the two observers each delivered their reports to their respective counts.
Those reports circulated among the counts’ retainers, passed through their servants to other lords, and spread among mercenaries through the Mercenary Guild.
The tale that took root was this:
A Black Mage called Tay had appeared.
An independent lord in the Harundel Marquisate.
Of common birth, yet raised to the rank of baron.
Commands thousands upon thousands of skeleton soldiers.
At first, no one believed it.
Thousands of skeleton soldiers? Surely exaggeration. The drunken boasting of a tavern tale.
But the rumor was remarkably specific.
Three thousand Medium Skeleton Soldiers. He led them to war. Annihilated the enemy in half an hour. A true event that occurred in the Territorial War between Baron Hardun and Baron Balbon.
Two observers, who had witnessed the battle firsthand, had even filed official reports to both counts.
Doubt transformed into astonishment.
“Three thousand—isn’t that a count-level mobilization?”
“And one baron commands all of them?”
“And they’re all skeleton soldiers, no less. That means no supply lines needed.”
Among the mercenaries, yet another version of the rumor began to circulate.
“Ever heard of the Skeleton Baron?”
“Ah. That rumor coming up from Harundel? The madman who commands over nine thousand skeleton soldiers?”
“Not nine thousand. Some say tens of thousands.”
“Tens of thousands!?”
“The Mercenary Guild confirmed three thousand, but that’s only what he brought with him. There could be more left behind in his territory.”
“Did he make a pact with a Demon King or something……?”
The rumor spread beyond the Salkatna Countdom.
Into the Colando Countdom. Into neighboring territories. And through the Mercenary Guild’s continental network, far beyond.
Tay Maker, Baron.
The Skeleton Baron.
A mad Black Mage commanding an army of Medium Skeleton Soldiers whose numbers defied counting.
A commoner by birth who had crowned himself a noble, and in war had annihilated an enemy force in half a bell.
This name began to sear itself into the minds of the continent’s nobility and mercenaries alike.
Whether it inspired awe or dread differed from person to person, but one thing was certain.
No one took this name lightly anymore.
* * *
Tay lay sprawled across the Undead Palanquin with a grin plastered across his face, utterly delighted with himself.
The reason was simple.
He had leveled up!
-Level Up!
-Warrior Level 4 achieved.
There were no special rewards like Achievements or Titles, but surely the rise in Level itself was reward enough.
Tay’s current Class Levels broke down like this.
Black Mage Level 4. Crazy Craftsman Level 4. Warrior Level 4.
All three Classes had leveled up in perfect sync.
His cumulative total Level was a staggering 12.
Honestly…… if he’d only leveled up as a Black Mage to 12, he’d have already unlocked eighth-circle Black Magic…… but there was nothing to be done about it.
Tay hadn’t become a triple-classed character by choice.
And.
Being a jack-of-all-trades rather than a specialist meant his Proficiency gains were slow.
But his ceiling would be far higher in the end.
‘Level 12……’
Tay marveled inwardly.
Level 12 was more than enough to transcend the ordinary human realm—well into superhuman territory!
Though his Proficiency was admittedly low, his raw stats had risen to match a Level 12 character.
And on top of that, he possessed the Legendary+ Skill: the Hellheart of Undying Life……
Save for those outside all measure—like the Marquis of Harundel—there was no one who could stand against Tay and walk away victorious!
Tay stretched across the palanquin.
Three thousand skeleton soldiers marched on relentlessly, oblivious to their master’s contentment. The road home.
From the Salkatna Countdom back to the Harundel Marquisate. And then to his own territory—the return journey felt glorious.
‘Just a few more wars and I’ll level up again.’
War. The efficiency was insane!
Experience Points poured in at a rate that put Dungeons to shame.
Being a Black Mage blacksmith is far too easy
Author |
Automaton G
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Samyang C&C Corp.
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Editorial Department
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Samyang C&C Corp. – Dream Books
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© Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — The contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means without the express written permission of Dreambooks.

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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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