The Son-In-Law of the Magician Is a Transcendent Sword Master - Chapter 141

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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 141
“Sheril, I’m done on my end.”
After extracting Sierra from the corpse golem, I headed straight for the workshop entrance. Sheril, who had been waiting for me there, immediately frowned the moment I approached.
“…Reagan, no matter how youthful and vigorous one’s age, carrying a naked woman like a sack of goods is hardly an appropriate sight.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I can’t wrap her in the rags the corpse was wearing.”
“I shall report this incident to Miss Renia as well.”
“Please, just let this one slide.”
I laid Sierra down gently in a corner of the workshop. Since I’d just extracted her from the corpse golem, she wore nothing. Sheril removed her own long coat and draped it over Sierra.
Only after Sheril removed her coat did I notice Vera sitting behind her, completely panicked and trembling.
“…What exactly did you do to her? Why are her wrists like that?”
“I told you. I was teaching the foolish girl the bitter taste of reality.”
“By cutting her wrists?”
“It is the iron law of the Dark Mage Guild. And I am the Shadow Queen. This punishment is quite merciful considering she insulted the queen.”
When put that way, there’s nothing I can say. Besides, it’s a Shadow Tower matter, and as an outsider, it’s not my place to interfere.
I retrieved mage-binding shackles from Andvari’s Cube and fastened them around the twins’ ankles. They were among the magical artifacts I’d taken from the Shadow Tower’s Treasure Vault.
“Well, that accomplishes our objective.”
I had captured Vera and Sierra, the demons in black who had been sabotaging the Dark Mage Guild and underworld operations near Orelion. Moreover, I succeeded in capturing them alive without losing or killing either of them.
A perfect result.
Yes. Too perfect, which was the problem.
During my mercenary days, whenever things went too smoothly, something would inevitably go wrong.
Perhaps that’s why a nagging doubt had crept into my mind this time as well.
I assessed the situation coldly.
‘…It was too easy.’
Far too easy.
Above all, the circumstances themselves seemed far too convenient.
That Vera and Sierra, who should have been transported and imprisoned in Grave, had begun their operations in the suburbs of Orelion Empire where intelligence networks were dense.
That their nest was the Carius Mansion, the birthplace of the Archmage King himself.
That the two brainwashed victims had fallen under the same puppet-like magic they encountered in Trion.
Something felt off.
It was sloppy enough to suggest evidence had been deliberately scattered. It didn’t match the Archmage King’s meticulous nature, given how thoroughly he’d conducted his operations behind the scenes until now.
Which meant….
“Sheril, stay alert. Something else is going on here, I’m sure of—”
That was when I tried to warn her.
“Ugh… ugh….”
Sierra, lying in the corner, opened her eyes. Her dark pupils blinked several times as they adjusted to the darkness, then she looked at Sheril and me.
“Lashelle… sister?”
“Reagan, has the brainwashing been lifted?”
“I used Barisada to cut through it. She should be in her right mind now.”
At my words, Sheril nodded and helped the collapsed Sierra sit up.
“Are you alright, Sierra? Do you remember what happened to you all this time?”
“I… why am I… here…?”
Sierra shook her head with a vacant expression. Then, catching sight of Vera trembling with her wrist severed, her eyes widened in shock.
“We… have to take revenge… they said…”
“Revenge? Who told you that?”
“Who?”
“Yes. There must be someone responsible for what happened to you. Just tell me who that is. I’ll handle the rest…”
Sheril was in the midst of speaking.
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
Sierra suddenly let out a piercing scream and began convulsing violently. Dark crimson veins bulged grotesquely across her neck and face.
“Ugh, ugghhh! It’s… it’s burning…! Sister! Help me…!”
Watching that horrific sight unfold, Sheril cried out in alarm.
“What’s happening! Reagan! The brainwashing was supposed to be broken!”
“The brainwashing… was definitely broken.”
Then what in the world was this?
‘Ah.’
My eyes caught the transformation occurring within Sierra’s Mana Core.
Instinctively, memories from my past life surfaced.
The Black Mages have a kind of shackle placed upon them as a precaution, in case they’re ever captured and interrogated. That’s why when we apprehended Elder Beron during the Hunting Festival, even Steren, an Archmage, couldn’t extract any information from him.
The reason was…
“Gears.”
“Gears?”
“Yes. A seal. A type of curse. The Gears placed on Sierra is… more than just an ordinary seal…”
Vicious.
The magic inscribed on Sierra’s Mana Core now was closer to a curse than Gears. A malevolent mechanism that would cause her body itself to collapse the moment her brainwashing was lifted or she recalled certain memories.
The moment that realization struck me, I converted thought into action.
“Sheril, move.”
“Pardon?”
“Get away!”
Before the words even finished, I roughly grabbed the hems of Sheril and Vera’s clothes and rolled across the floor with them.
In that instant, Sierra’s body began swelling at a terrifying speed. It was identical to the phenomenon I’d witnessed with the vagrants in the Cabin before.
In other words…
Splurch!
The agonized scream cut off abruptly. Sierra’s vocal cords themselves had vanished. But it wasn’t just her vocal cords. Her entire body scattered without form.
Just as a corpse would explode, so too did Sierra’s body burst apart.
Beyond any recognition of shape.
Down to the cellular level.
In the end, all that remained of Sierra was blood pooling sickly across the floor and bone fragments scattered about.
“….”
Sheril stared at the carnage with wide eyes. Soon after, thinking this must be a nightmare, she pinched her own cheek.
But reality is always crueler than dreams.
And yet, the nightmare was far from over.
“Si… erra?”
Vera murmured as she gazed upon her twin sister’s shattered remains. Focus was gradually returning to her eyes. Whether the shock of witnessing death had served as a crude form of therapy, or the brainwashing had simply shattered along with her sister’s body, she seemed to be breaking free from its grip.
“Vera!”
“Lashelle… I… that monster completely… played me….”
Vera’s words tumbled out between tears streaming down her face.
“Ugh…!”
But in the next instant, Vera convulsed in agony, her body curling inward. Just like Sierra, grotesque veins began to bulge across her skin.
“Vera! Stay with me! Damn it…. Reagan! Do something, anything!”
“Sheril, step back.”
“No! We can still save her! If we just—”
“There’s no hope left. Any closer and you’ll be in danger too.”
“Reagan! How can you be so cold about this!”
“Sheril.”
My heavy call of her name froze Sheril mid-motion. She turned to face me, her expression contorting before she regained her composure and melted back into the shadows.
I deployed the Rune character Algiz (ᛉ) to brace for the explosion.
Splorch!
Just as with Sierra, Vera’s body burst apart.
Now only Sheril and I remained in the workshop.
The only traces the twins left behind were blood spattered across every surface and the thick, coppery stench of death.
That was it.
Now there remained not a shred of evidence that the Archmage King had orchestrated this conspiracy.
“Damn it.”
I cursed under my breath.
I’d thought it strange that the Archmage King’s plan seemed so sloppy, but it had all been calculated from the start.
‘The moment the brainwashing breaks, the curse activates.’
If Vera and Sierra had managed to harm us, that would have been acceptable.
If they failed to harm us, that was equally acceptable.
Vera and Sierra had already eliminated the Underworld Operations and Dark Mage Guild branches near the Capital. It was clearly an attempt to reduce the eyes and ears that might interfere with his plans.
“…I’ve been completely outmaneuvered.”
Yet I couldn’t simply leave the two of them as they were.
Either way, the twins were destined for a tragic death.
I exhaled deeply, weighed down by the complexity of it all.
A bitter taste lingered in my mouth.
* * *
It was ten minutes later when Sheril emerged from the shadows.
“…So, have you composed yourself?”
“Yes, for now. I’m afraid I showed you an unsightly display a moment ago. My apologies.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“No, I’m sorry. You said those words for my sake… and yet I threw a tantrum anyway. I’m unfit to be an Archmage.”
Sheril sighed and picked up a long cloak from the floor. The black fabric was stained crimson with Sierra’s blood.
“…Reagan, this man called Demian in the Imperial Palace—is he still committing such atrocities even now?”
“He’s been doing it since the old days, and he’ll keep doing it in the future.”
“I see.”
Sheril sighed and draped the cloak over herself. Though it was damp with blood and should have felt unpleasant, she seemed entirely unbothered.
“Vera and Sierra. They were wretched women who cooperated with Arania… but they were still family of the Shadow Tower. They deserved punishment, but not in this form. In other words, I have lost family because of that bastard Demian.”
“….”
“Reagan, tell me everything you know about that man. Even if I have to mobilize every Dark Mage Guild across the continent, I will uncover his secrets.”
“Sheril, didn’t you say the Dark Mage Guilds are no longer under the Shadow Tower’s jurisdiction?”
“That was true until just now. But from this moment forward, it is not.”
Sheril’s voice was thick with hatred.
In other words, the Queen of Dark Mages had just declared her entry into war alongside the Archmage King.
The Dark Mages, who had been the Archmage King’s most covert force in my previous life, had now become a reliable ally.
This alone was a significant achievement.
Yet it was too early to be satisfied.
“Sheril, let’s search this workshop thoroughly first. It’s Demian’s ancestral home, so there might be evidence here.”
The building we were in was called the Carius Mansion.
In other words, it belonged to Demian’s family. As such, we might discover crucial clues to expose Demian’s secrets.
And so Sheril and I began searching through the workshop.
However, the grimoires and research journals that should have been common in a workshop were all reduced to ash or defaced beyond legibility.
Several minutes passed in this manner.
“…This is.”
I finally discovered a single intact book in the library at the very back of the workshop.
The cover bore characters I had never seen before.
“A cipher…perhaps?”
“No. Ancient script. The language of the Divine Realm. There are likely very few people on the Continent who can read it.”
Sheril took the book from me and furrowed her brow.
“Reagan. This book… it’s a forbidden text.”
“What do you mean? You said you couldn’t read it.”
“I recognize the patterns on the cover. More precisely, it has the same binding method as the grimoire I possess—the one containing the prohibition on body theft. Yes, I’m certain of it.”
Sheril opened the book.
Since the contents were also written in ancient script, I couldn’t read it immediately.
But if this was a forbidden grimoire discovered in the Archmage King’s ancestral home….
“Good. Let’s keep it for now. It could be an important clue.”
This alone was a worthwhile find. I should seek out someone qualified to translate it later.
I pushed the book into Andvari’s Cube.
“Now let’s report the situation.”
I looked at the dozens of corpses piled around us. Bodies that Vera and Sierra had collected.
“We can’t just leave after causing such a disaster.”
“The report… should we give it to that investigator person?”
“Yes.”
I nodded and retrieved the silver button Gideon had given me.
Just as I was about to press it—
—Click, click.
The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase from above.
“Reagan… someone’s coming.”
“Yes. I hear it too.”
Sheril crouched low and fixed her gaze on the entrance, while I adjusted my grip on Benheim’s sword.
And then—
Creak.
The iron door swung open, and a man holding a lantern stepped into the basement.
“Well, well, it seems we’ve had thieves while the manor was vacant.”
A slender frame.
Long black hair.
A beauty mark beneath his left eye.
And crimson eyes curved in mockery of all things.
In other words—
‘Damian Carius….’
The Archmage King stood before me.

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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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