The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 29

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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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29
Chapter 29. Blue Gold
***
I slid the Dragon Head Sword back into its sheath.
Shiiing.
The cool metallic ring cut through the silence, sharp and cold.
The moment the blade aligned with the scabbard’s mouth, the dying embers that had been licking at the cave floor seemed to die on cue, their flames snuffing out in unison.
The smoking ground cooled rapidly, and the mana that had hung suspended in the air dispersed into nothingness.
Where the wind passed, only the blackened husk of the Goblin Shaman remained—grotesque and final.
Its staff, a gnarled wooden rod half-consumed by flame, rolled weakly across the stone floor.
What remains after overwhelming violence sweeps through is always this same suffocating silence. I lifted my chin and looked ahead.
The slight tremor in my vision was just temporary intraocular pressure from mana depletion.
The Fire Breaker had carved a chasm across the earth where it had torn through.
Beyond that fissure, dozens of surviving goblins stood motionless, watching me.
The crude daggers and shields in their hands trembled ever so slightly.
“…….”
Pure, instinctive terror.
The ragged breathing that escaped from their gaping jaws, the dull, unfocused eyes—everything exposed what lay beneath without filter.
Their absolute leader, the one who had driven them into madness moments ago and promised them victory, had vanished without a trace in a single blow.
Their feeble goblin minds were more than capable of grasping that overwhelming causal chain.
I stepped forward slowly, treading through the ash. My boot sole crunched through bone dust and charred flesh, the sound sickeningly unpleasant. One step.
Whooooom—!
I released the mana fragments I had kept suppressed deep within my heart, flooding outward in an instant.
An invisible wave rippled outward in all directions, pressing the humid cave air down with crushing weight.
It was more than mere intimidation—it was physical pressure. Like an invisible giant hand seizing them by the scruff and driving them face-first into stone.
“Kreeeeek—!”
The three goblins standing at the front collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth.
Goosebumps rose visibly across their mottled green skin, plain to see even from a distance.
Those behind them didn’t even think to flee—they simply squatted there, losing control of their bladders.
“Your leader is dead.”
My voice echoed low across the cave walls. The hands holding weapons went limp.
Clang, thud.
The crude weapons clattered sharply against the stone floor.
“If you don’t want to die here—”
I took another step forward. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. Their breathing came faster.
“Get out. Now.”
They couldn’t possibly understand human speech perfectly.
But the cold weight of lethal intent in my voice, the unmistakable tone of command, was more than enough to burrow deep into their simple minds.
“Screeeee! Kaaaagh!”
The most terrified of them shrieked and turned to flee, and like a dam breaking, the entire formation collapsed. They threw down their shields, abandoned their weapons.
Like a receding tide, dozens of goblins stampeded into the depths of the crimson crevasse without so much as a backward glance.
Trampling over each other, clawing at the heels of those ahead—they fled with a desperation and base instinct that was both contemptible and utterly primal.
I watched them scatter until the last one vanished. As the sound of their footsteps faded into distance, I stood alone in the Gate at last.
Step, step.
A transparent system window materialized in the air.
[Gate Cleared.]
[Safe Zone activated. Time remaining: 1 hour 59 minutes]
[Level increased. 10 → 15]
Behind me, the sound of heavy armor grinding against itself grew near.
I turned to see the Red Warrior approaching—a skeletal form in crimson plate armor, wielding a massive blood-drenched curved blade.
In its wake lay a carpet of goblin remains, torn beyond recognition.
The red light flickering in the hollow sockets of its skull dimmed as it acknowledged my presence.
“Well done. Return.”
Shwoooosh—
With my command, the enormous skeletal warrior’s form dispersed like a heat shimmer.
Silver dust coalesced in the air, then settled gently onto my shoulder as a small butterfly.
[You have worked hard as well, Successor.]
Airi’s cheerful voice tickled my ear. The moment tension released, a shallow dizziness washed over me. My temples throbbed in rhythm.
I pressed my fingertips to the bridge of my nose and steadied my breathing.
‘That was cutting it close.’
I checked my inner reserves—barely a handful of Mana remained. The fusion skill I’d poured into the Goblin Shaman had imposed far more strain on my Mana circuits than anticipated.
Had the surviving goblins overcome their fear and charged with suicidal desperation, I might have lost the Red Warrior form entirely and suffered a Mana backlash.
Of course, I’d factored their cowardly racial instincts into the gamble, but the aftertaste sat uneasy in my mouth.
I folded my arms and slowly surveyed the blood-pooled floor. The stench rising from the goblin corpses assaulted my nostrils.
“Airi. Run a drop-item scan.”
[Scan complete. No Artifacts or Mana Stones detected within current radius.]
“…What?”
That made no sense.
I’d slaughtered hundreds of goblins—and personally executed a boss-class Shaman to boot.
By all statistical probability, at least dozens of low-grade Mana Stones should’ve been scattered across the floor.
The situation defied explanation unless the laws within this Gate had been warped.
I stroked my chin and swept my gaze sharply across the Gate’s interior landscape. My eyes caught on a dilapidated wooden cart the goblins had been dragging.
Piled atop it were crude but razor-sharp pickaxes, chisels, hammers, and other mining tools heaped in profusion.
‘Goblins bringing pickaxes to a fight?’
No coincidence exists within a Gate’s ecosystem.
They’d been mining something here. When I invaded, they simply grabbed the tools they’d been holding and used them as weapons.
Then what were they protecting?
I closed my eyes and honed my senses. I unfurled a web of Mana and traced the energy currents around me.
Between the blood-stench and the reek of decay vibrating through the air, I felt it—a current both utterly pure and bitingly cold, pulsing in a clear direction.
Deep within that darkness, a Mana signal throbbed with the regularity of a heartbeat.
“There.”
My eyes flew open. At the Gate’s deepest recess, within the dark stone expanse, a massive tent woven from beast hide lay draped over the cavern floor.
Through its crude gaps leaked an unmistakable, faint blue radiance.
I trudged forward and seized the tent fabric. Then I tore it away with force.
Flutter—
Shriek!
In that instant, all shadow within the cavern was swept away at once. A brilliant, overwhelming torrent of blue light flooded my vision—blinding, pristine, absolute.
“…Insane.”
A low gasp escaped my lips. This was no mere handful of ore. An immense vein of crystal ran the entire length of the cavern wall.
Within each nodule of that vein, hundreds—no, thousands—of Mana Stones lay embedded in gigantic formations.
It was surreal, as if the Milky Way itself had been cut from the night sky and pressed into this underground cavern.
Each unrefined, high-purity raw stone radiated Mana waves that sent electric thrills through my skin with every brush of contact.
“…The jackpot just came in.”
***
Late evening, twilight thickening before the Abandoned Factory.
A streetlamp cast its orange glow, diffusing hazily through the haze-laden air.
Cold, dry night air brushed my cheek, washing away the humid heat from inside the Gate.
“This is a mess.”
I checked my wristwatch and muttered under my breath. The work day had ended long ago.
Perched on my shoulder in Airi’s lupine form was she herself, maintaining transparency through her unique Protective Color skill.
To an ordinary person, the space around my shoulder would appear only as a faint refractive shimmer.
A Legendary Fairy’s existence is a target unto itself. There was no reason to draw attention, so for now we’d maintain this concealment.
Outside the Gate entrance was nothing short of a massive construction site.
Several large trucks with their headlights blazing stood idling in a line, while dozens of workers bustled about controlling the scene.
Dressed in rough work clothes, they moved with practiced efficiency—setting up gasoline generators, inspecting pneumatic drills and pickaxes, preparing earnestly for serious excavation.
And at the head of all this commotion, directly before the Gate’s crimson rift, stood Kim Dae-han tending to a barrier.
Sweat streamed down his back, darkening his shirt.
‘Natural Dissipation’ and ‘Artificial Dissipation.’
Every Gate begins to close once its internal boss dies—it loses its Mana anchor and gradually collapses. That is the natural order.
But when substantial resources are discovered inside, or further investigation is necessary, skilled Barrier Mages must be summoned to artificially extend the Gate’s lifespan.
This is the core technique of mining in this field—the ‘Holding’ operation.
The problem is that maintenance duration varies wildly depending on the Barrier Mage’s Mana control ability and precision.
If the shoddy barrier the Buckler Guild hacks had set up were still in place, the Gate would have already closed and the Mana Stone vein would be lost forever to the dimensional void.
“Barrier recalibration commencing. All personnel fall back three paces! Watch for Mana interference!”
Kim Dae-han spat out the cigarette he’d been holding and crushed it under his boot. His usual languid, loose demeanor had vanished entirely.
With one hand pressed flat against the Gate’s rippling rift, he carved swift, geometric, intricate seals through the empty air with the other.
“Ring of Mana, take form as binding knot. Bind, unwavering and firm, this torn space—hold it sealed.”
A low, steady incantation rang through the air. Threads of pale blue Mana spilled from his fingertips, crawling across the Gate’s fissures like living things.
They wove and crossed as if stitching the space’s distortions, suppressing the unstable red waves that had been thrashing before.
It was like sealing the jaws of an enraged beast with iron chains.
Economical, precise hand movements. A meticulously engineered magical application that minimized mana waste to the absolute extreme.
‘This is no ordinary barrier.’
I stood with my arms crossed, taking in the sight before me. This was not something to dismiss just because combat capability was absent.
It bore the same unsettling focus that Chu Jae-hee had displayed when dissecting the structure of the Artifact.
Tap-tap-tap-tap—!
The moment the barrier’s finishing touches were complete, the flow of air around us shifted noticeably.
The turbulent red light transformed into a stable blue, and the transparent membrane hardened to a density stronger than steel.
“Whew, I’m exhausted for real.”
Kim Dae-han wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and brushed his hands clean. His complexion had grown slightly paler than usual.
“Gate stabilization complete. Maintenance duration is roughly eight hours. If you can’t extract everything within that time, you’ll have to abandon your equipment and flee.”
‘Eight hours?’
I swallowed my surprise inwardly.
Before the regression, even the dedicated Barrier Mages of the so-called top-tier mega-guilds could only force-open an aberrant Gate like this for about four hours at most.
Yet Kim Dae-han, a mere city hall employee, was guaranteeing double that time. I couldn’t fathom where the bottom of this man truly lay.
“Alright, the passage is open! Grab your equipment and enter! Follow all safety protocols!”
At the mining foreman’s booming shout from the staging area, workers surged forward in unison.
Men carrying pickaxes, shovels, and large Mana Stone storage containers poured into the Gate like a swarm of ants.
What had been a battlefield of carnage just an hour ago—blood and flesh scattered across the ground—had transformed completely into a skilled work site.
The interior of the Gate soon filled with the metallic screech of steel striking rock and the harsh breathing of laborers.
Thick cables snaked across the floor like serpents, running from outdoor generators, while high-powered floodlights whined shrilly, illuminating the Cave as if it were midday.
Whirr—
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The vibration of pneumatic drills pulverizing stone traveled up through the soles of my feet. The workers moved with military precision, their coordination flawless.
One crew erected steel support beams to shore up rock walls at risk of collapse, while another began assembling temporary rails and a small lift to haul out the excavated Mana Stones.
Plastic containers descended endlessly from the truck bed, being ferried into the Cave.
“The Mana Stone density is highest over here! Everyone, move your equipment this way!”
“Park! The generator in back is losing voltage! Check if the line’s been cut!”
The foreman’s rough commands echoed through the site. I leaned against the wall and observed the scene in silence. The feeling was strange.
Before the regression, I had focused solely on the Gate “Clear”—the final result.
How the byproducts left behind underwent processing, how they came to light, how they were converted into capital—none of that concerned me.
From the high position of vice-guild-master, the dust at ground level remained invisible.
But the scene unfolding before me now was different.
For every single small blue stone to be completely extracted, someone labored in darkness, pickaxe in hand, sweating blood and tears.
This was the foundation of the system I had ignored—and simultaneously, the bedrock that upheld the world.
“That man was my high school senior. He’s one of the most respected veterans in the Mana Stone mining sector.”
Kim Dae-han approached my side and crossed his arms as he spoke. His gaze remained fixed on the foreman, who was expertly directing the workers.
“Can he be trusted? Security must be paramount.”
“Of course. He’s tight-lipped, and more than that, his pride in his craft outweighs greed. There’s no risk of betrayal.”
Kim Dae-han clicked his tongue and wiped his fingers along the Cave wall at the Gate’s entrance. Coarse dust fell to the ground.
“By the way… for your first request, you’ve brought us quite the bonanza. What exactly is your background, Hunter?”
“A request came in, and I processed it. Lucky timing, that’s all.”
At my terse reply, Kim Dae-han let out a hollow laugh.
“A vein of this scale… even at standard market rates, you’re looking at a minimum of eighty billion? No, considering the purity of the raw ore we saw earlier, we’ll easily surpass one hundred billion. It’s like having several buildings buried in Gangnam.”
“The value is higher than expected, then.”
“Higher doesn’t begin to cover it! Not only did we single-handedly seal off a Gate on the brink of breaking, but the city has independently secured a major mining operation? The mayor will probably fall over backward with joy tomorrow morning.
And those stubborn dinosaurs who were talking about cutting our budget will have to shut their mouths.”
The hundred-billion contract the Invictus Guild had offered me suddenly seemed like pocket change. I picked up a fragment of Mana Stone from the ground.
Cold and firm, the touch of unrefined pure energy pulsed faintly through my palm.
“I was simply lucky.”
I tossed the Mana Stone fragment to Kim Dae-han. He caught it reflexively, startled, and stared at the little stone intently.
“It’s surreal sometimes—that a pebble this small has twisted the entire world upside down.”
His voice carried a bitter undertone. Yes. That blue pebble had corrupted so much.
The energy revolution brought by Mana Stones had destroyed the balance of power between nations and cemented an invisible class system between humans and Hunters.
Each time a Gate erupted, the privileged grew vastly richer, while those left in the wreckage were thoroughly marginalized.
Mana Stones did not save the world. They merely constructed a new order of disorder—sustained by blood.
“Was it truly the Mana Stones that changed the world?”
At my parting murmur, Kim Dae-han smiled bitterly.
“A sharp question. But ironically enough… thanks to that crystallization of greed, our Ability Management Team has finally gotten a chance to breathe. Cruel irony, isn’t it?”
“The mine reverts to city finances immediately?”
“Yes, in principle. For a local government to independently Clear a Gate and secure mining rights—there’s been no precedent in roughly a decade. The legal framework will be complicated, but with results this significant, the mayor won’t be able to ignore our team’s demands.”
I fixed Kim Dae-han with an unwavering stare and drove my point home.
“Passive approaches like budget appropriations won’t work. We need at least seventy percent of all mining revenue designated as a separate fund that the Ability Management Team can operate independently.”
“…Seventy percent?”
Kim Dae-han’s eyes widened. We were talking about hundreds of billions—no, nearly a trillion won.
For a single department to control seven-tenths of that without going through City Hall’s regular approval process was unprecedented, a request that defied administrative convention. But I didn’t look away.
“That’s money we bled to extract. I won’t stand for City Hall siphoning it off as their personal slush fund under the pretense of budget reviews and deliberations.
Unless that’s guaranteed, I can’t promise Gate Clears like this going forward.”
My blunt threat seemed to stun him momentarily, but then Kim Dae-han’s shoulders shook and he broke into a genuine laugh.
“Right…very well. We’ll exploit every loophole in the relevant statutes and make it happen exactly as you say. Those old fossils in City Hall’s finance department won’t know what hit them. We’ve got plenty of justification for this.”
His eyes curved like crescents.
“And I’ll finally be rid of this miserable back-office storage closet. If all else fails, I’ll pitch a tent in front of the mayor’s office.”
“Dispose of all the old furniture in the office.”
“Ha! Of course! I’ll have the finest massage chairs installed.”
We were easing the tension with lighthearted banter when it happened.
Screeeeeech—!!
The sharp screech of tires ripped through the quiet night air, violent and raw, echoing across the Abandoned Factory grounds.
Three vehicles came barreling toward us at a reckless speed and screeched to a halt just beyond the Gate control line.
Raising clouds of dust as they stopped, the cars were all massive black SUVs with dark tinted windows.
It was an oppressive entrance, like a scene from a military operation.
Beyond the glare of the headlights, figures in black suits threw open their doors and poured out. My conversation with Kim Dae-han stopped dead.
The air turned cold in an instant.
My instincts screamed danger. The sharp eagle emblem printed in gold leaf on the vehicle’s side and the English initials caught the streetlight, gleaming.
G.A.R.M (Gate Administration & Regulation Ministry)
The Gate Administration Ministry.
All ease vanished from Kim Dae-han’s face. His eyes went cold as ice, and a muttered curse escaped between his clenched teeth.
“How the hell did those leeches find out about this place?”
After my return, this was my first encounter with those called the heart of the corrupted system.

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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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