Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 74

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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 74
Every time an enemy fell on the battlefield, and every time Tay’s skeleton soldiers killed a foe, experience points flooded in.
With three thousand of them fighting at once, the experience gain was insane—of course it would be!
‘What a shame.’
Tay clicked his tongue.
‘If I’d leveled up just one more time, I’d reach Black Mage Level 5 and unlock Class 3 Dark Magic Spells…….’
Black Mage Level 5 was the threshold for Class 3 Dark Magic, and he’d missed it this time.
At Level 4, he could only use up to Class 2 Dark Magic, so the disappointment was inevitable.
‘I’ll push for it in the next war. Wars around here never stop anyway.’
Tay swallowed his regret and closed his eyes.
Still, this war had yielded plenty. Two levels gained. The right to half the dungeon profits from Baron Hardun. And spoils of war besides.
He’d made good money too.
It wasn’t a bad expedition.
* * *
“I’m back!”
Tay raised his hand as he passed through the gates of his fief.
Two figures had come to greet him.
“You’ve returned?”
Watching Lant sit atop a skeleton soldier palanquin and offer his greeting just as casually as Tay would have, Tay found himself thinking:
‘This Lant…… ever since his slave mark came off, he’s gotten completely cocky…… I’d like to put him in his place, but…… he does his work well, so I’ll leave him be.’
Tay sighed inwardly. Ever since becoming Class 3, the man had completely loosened up!
‘But what can I do about it. He’s a Black Mage of higher attainment than me…… tch.’
By Black Mage standards, Lant was Class 3. Tay was still Class 2. Of course, thanks to the Undying Life’s Infernal Heart, his power rivaled Class 3, but in pure mastery, Lant held the advantage.
A bitter reality.
“Welcome back, my lord. Your expedition was arduous.”
Partan bowed his head in greeting, the very picture of a knight.
‘Oh! Partan is the real deal!’
Tay felt a surge of genuine emotion at Partan’s knightly bearing.
He swallowed the feeling and asked, “So nothing went wrong while I was gone?”
“Nothing of note, my lord.”
Lant answered matter-of-factly. Then, frowning slightly, he added:
“Though there was one small matter.”
“What is it?”
“The production of undead reinforcements for the fief was halted in your absence.”
“Huh? Why?”
“We couldn’t control them, my lord.”
Partan made his report.
“We kept the skeleton soldier factory running while you were away, with one hundred Black Mages working continuously…… but the problem was that the newly created skeleton soldiers began attacking the living.”
“What?”
“We believe it was because your ability had disappeared. The moment they were created, they’d attack any living creatures nearby. We had to destroy them or suppress them with rings.”
Tay pressed his hand to his forehead.
‘Ah…… I see. Infinite Dominion only works when I’m present. Without me, skeleton soldiers created by ordinary Black Mages have limits to their control.’
This was something he hadn’t anticipated.
Partan continued:
“Moreover, merchants won’t purchase skeleton soldiers from our fief…… so we simply accumulated inventory.”
“Right. Our skeleton soldiers don’t sell these days, do they?”
“No, my lord.”
Tay rested his chin on his hand, sinking into thought.
‘Hmm……. I need to think about this too.’
The production cost of a standard medium skeleton soldier was thirty gold coins per unit. That covered bone purchases, Black Mage wages, and equipment fabrication.
But the selling price was three hundred coins.
He was keeping two hundred seventy coins per unit.
‘So that’s why they don’t sell.’
In other regions, he’d heard a medium skeleton soldier went for around two hundred fifty coins.
Tay’s three hundred coins were fifty above market price, so from a merchant’s perspective, buying rings elsewhere and purchasing skeleton soldiers from another supplier was the better deal.
‘Should I slash the price drastically? Then they might move better…….’
It was something worth considering.
In any case, the key point was that skeleton soldier production had stopped during the two months Tay was away on his mercenary expedition.
Two months. One month was just travel, and one month was the waiting period before the war began.

Current monthly production sits around a thousand units—steadily increased over time to reach this level—so in two months they wouldn’t even manage two thousand.
The opportunity to add two thousand troops had slipped through his fingers.
‘Is this a net gain or not? Hmm. Leveling up was unavoidable, but……’
Gaining two levels versus losing two thousand units. The scales didn’t tip easily either way.
While Tay deliberated, Partan ventured to speak.
“There’s another problem that’s emerged, my lord.”
“What is it?”
“An Undead Field has formed.”
“What?”
Tay’s expression shifted to bewilderment.
* * *
Partan guided Tay toward one edge of the territory.
The Skeleton Soldier factory district. The area where Skeleton Soldiers were most densely garrisoned.
Tay knelt on the ground and pressed his hand against the earth.
The soil had turned black.
It was no ordinary dirt. Through his palm, he felt Death Mana—the concentration was remarkably thick.
The essence of death had seeped into the soil itself.
“Is this…… my mistake?”
Tay muttered to himself.
“Indeed. Your master’s error.”
Lant answered without hesitation.
“Damn.”
Tay clenched the blackened soil in his fist and exhaled slowly.
“I didn’t know that’s what happens when undead cluster together…… A Debt-Slave Mercenary turned self-taught Black Mage, what did I expect?”
Lant spoke with arms crossed.
“Well, it can’t be helped. You didn’t receive formal academy training. But listen, master.”
Lant’s expression grew grave.
“It can still be reversed. The area is narrow. The real problem lies ahead.”
The Undead Field.
A phenomenon also called the Land of Death.
It occurs when vast numbers of undead are densely concentrated in one region for prolonged periods.
Death Mana flowing from the undead seeps into the ground, corrupting the soil itself into a realm of death.
Left unchecked, it drains the vitality from the surrounding area, and corpses that perish in this Undead Field rise as the most basic undead—buried bodies walking forth as zombies.
For Black Mages, especially Necromancers, such land was invaluable.
It becomes easier to create undead, their abilities grow stronger, and Death Spirit Dark Magic grows more potent.
But for a territory lord, it was catastrophic.
A land of death. Living things cannot thrive there. Crops won’t grow. Grass withers, trees die. Living beings who linger too long lose vitality and weaken. In severe cases, they fall ill.
What good was such a land?
None whatsoever.
Absolutely none.
“What’s the scope?”
Tay asked.
“Only this Skeleton Soldier garrison district, my lord.”
Partan replied.
“It’s narrow, but……”
“Narrow now, but it will expand if left unaddressed.”
Lant spoke firmly.
“You’ll need to disperse the Skeleton Soldier garrison and purify the Death Mana from this region. I recommend summoning a priest.”
Tay nodded.
“Do that.”
Tay gazed down at the blackened earth and mused inwardly.
‘I can’t concentrate Skeleton Soldiers in a single location like that. I need to remember this.’
It was the limit of self-taught knowledge. This basic principle would have been common sense to anyone who’d received formal training, but the self-educated Black Mage with a Debt-Slave Mercenary background had gaps in such foundational understanding.
‘I have a lot to learn from Lant. Really.’
Tay sighed and turned away.
Another task had been added to his plate.
* * *
Lant’s assessment that a priest was necessary to resolve the Undead Field problem.
Seizing the opportunity, Tay resolved to establish a temple in the territory altogether.
Wasn’t that jumping ahead?
No, that wasn’t it.
In truth, he should have done this long ago.
His fief’s population had exceeded thirty thousand.
With a population this size, it was abnormal not to have at least one temple.
According to Lant, by Imperial standards, a fief ought to have roughly one temple per ten thousand people.
Yet Tay’s fief had thirty thousand inhabitants and not a single one!
In most fiefs, even those with just five thousand people, at least a small temple would stand.
Priests provided healing and blessing; the common folk found peace of mind through faith.
Perhaps the temple had avoided contact because Tay was a Black Mage, or perhaps he himself had simply neglected the matter.
Either way, it was time to remedy that.
As population grew, so did disease, injury, and affliction of the spirit.
Managing thirty thousand people without a single temple had its limits.
So Tay decided to seek out the Elberan Faith, the order devoted to life and healing.
Harundel had one grand cathedral of the Elberan Faith.
The headquarters of the diocese that oversaw the entire Harundel Marquisate!
Yet even as a baron, one could not simply demand an audience with the cathedral’s chief bishop.
Why not?
First, one had to understand the temple’s hierarchy.
Pope. Cardinal. Archbishop. Bishop. High Priest. Priest. Acolyte.
Among these, the Archbishop held the position representing an entire region.
Generally, one Archbishop was appointed for each major fief—a marquisate or earldom—and their authority was effectively equal to that of the marquis or earl who ruled the land.
Naturally, a mere baron making a direct request for audience with an archbishop was considered discourteous.
So Tay decided to request a meeting with the bishop below the archbishop instead.
A bishop ranked roughly equal to a viscount in the nobility, so a baron’s request for audience would not be improper.
Yet.
Surprisingly, the reply came at once.
On the very day he submitted his request, a priest came to his inn bearing an answer.
“The Bishop will see you immediately.”
“…What? How can it be so fast?”
Tay was puzzled. When he’d requested an audience with the marquis, he’d waited a full month; yet the temple answered the same day.
There had to be a reason.
* * *
The Grand Cathedral of the Harundel Diocese of the Elberan Faith.
It was an imposing structure built of white marble. The spire bore a carving of the Tree of Life, Elberan’s symbol, and on either side of the main entrance burned lanterns that symbolized the light of healing, day and night.
Tay was shown into a reception chamber within the cathedral.
A woman stood in the room.
“Praise be to life. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Her voice was soft.
“I am Haisian, humble servant of the great life.”
Haisian—Bishop of the Harundel Diocese of the Elberan Faith.
She appeared to be in her early thirties.
Hair of golden blonde with a silvery sheen fell past her shoulders, and she wore the robes of a bishop—white vestments embroidered with the Tree of Life in golden thread. She was remarkably beautiful and carried herself with grace.
But Tay did not judge by appearance alone.
The strong in this world did not age; they maintained their youth.
Lant had taught him this.
Just as nobles of count rank and above might live for five hundred years, so too did priests who had reached great heights of power.
There was no reason to assume that someone who appeared to be in their early thirties was actually in their early thirties.
The Black Mage Is Way Too Strong for a Blacksmith
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Automaton G
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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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