A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 120: Ancient Dungeon (3)

Demons loved negative human emotions, and the places where such emotions flourished most were battlefields.

Demon worshipers were no different.

Anger, hatred, fear, dread…

To gather these vile emotions, those who worshiped demons had long meddled in large-scale conflicts.

Of course, there were no wars between nations now, thanks to the continent-wide peace treaty led by the Holy Kingdom. This was undoubtedly unwelcome news for the demon-worshiping group Heukdang.

‘But there are still ways.’

Zabila, a low-ranking officer of Heukdang, thought with a smile.

True, large-scale wars like those of old were rare, but small conflicts abounded. Humans were creatures that couldn’t live without fighting.

The conflict with Orcs in the northern continent.

The civil war in the southernmost Baha Kingdom.

And this ancient dungeon, where over a hundred adventurers and mercenaries, blinded by greed, were ready to stab each other.

‘Yes, your greed is the perfect catalyst for my chaos magic!’

By sheer luck, Zabila had chosen the right path, entering the treasure room a step ahead of others.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a treasure room. Aside from an imposing throne, there was nothing. The real treasure likely lay deeper in the dungeon.

But that didn’t matter to Zabila.

His priority was harvesting the screams, pain, and fear of the adventurers who would soon flood in.

‘It was a perfect plan. As expected, adventurers stormed in about ten minutes later, and I cast spells to amplify chaos and induce hallucinations. It should’ve gone smoothly, with no one noticing me…’

It should have, but a strange guy appeared.

Someone immune to my black magic.

Someone who pinpointed my location in an instant.

‘Just what is he?’

It was absurd.

I wasn’t simply hiding behind the throne. To account for anyone with strong mental resistance who might resist my magic, I was wearing a pendant with a cloaking effect.

And yet, he found me so easily?

…But.

The truly shocking thing was something else.

“What? Can I summon a demon? Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, I’m talking to you. There’s no one else here who seems capable of that, right?”

“……”

Fair enough.

The only people in the room were adventurers and mercenaries, crazed by treasure and caught in my chaos magic, and me, a demon worshiper.

‘No, there’s this guy too.’

Zabila, a low-ranking officer of Heukdang, stared at the black-haired young man with bewildered eyes.

Skilled guys? I’d seen plenty.

Bold guys? Plenty of those too. Especially those from the Holy Kingdom. They’d smile and shout ‘martyrdom’ even as their fingers rotted from curses. A truly spine-chilling bunch.

But even those paladins were ordinary compared to this guy.

Someone interested in demons, despite not being a demon worshiper?

Someone asking if I could summon a demon?

“Are you sane?”

“Yes, I’m sane.”

“……”

“What’s wrong? Is asking if you can summon a demon that strange?”

“Of course it is. And you, it’s almost like…”

‘Like you’re about to tell me to summon one right now,’ Zabila nearly blurted out.

He held back because he belatedly realized how disadvantageous the situation was for him.

‘Damn it, giving a swordsman distance!’

Startled, Zabila hurriedly backed away.

The youth’s overly calm demeanor had lulled me into chatting.

If he’d swung his sword in that moment, I’d have been done for!

Realizing the youth might have deliberately lured me into complacency, alarm surged in my chest.

Scramble, scramble.

Farther, farther!

After frantically widening the distance, Zabila glanced at the black-haired young man. Thankfully, he hadn’t followed.

That meant the situation was now optimal for a magician facing a swordsman.

Finally finding some peace, Zabila raised his wand and chanted,

“Let the turmoil in your heart boil like lava, Valley of Trials!”

Woooom—!

“Haha! Now you’re done for—”

Whoosh…

“…?”

‘What? Why isn’t the magic working?’

Zabila’s face twisted in confusion.

His meticulously cast black magic dissipated with a feeble sound the moment it touched the youth.

It was incomprehensible.

If he’d dodged swiftly or neutralized it with an Aura Sword, I could’ve accepted it. But he hadn’t done anything.

And yet the magic didn’t work?

“……”

“……”

“…Tch!”

I couldn’t accept it.

I couldn’t believe it. Zabila, a proud officer of Heukdang, had confidence in his black magic.

“Let’s see you block this! Marionette of the Jester!”

Swish. A green thread shot toward the youth through the air.

A terrifying black magic that seized control of the body upon contact, one of Zabila’s most confident spells.

But it was futile.

Pop!

Whoosh…

The dark mana sublimated limply upon touching Harang’s body.

Zabila had no energy left to be shocked.

He stared blankly at the youth, who kindly clarified,

“I got hit by similar black magic recently.”

“…Black magic?”

“Well, not exactly similar—much stronger, actually. Anyway, it seems my body built resistance from it.”

“……”

“……”

“You think that makes sense?”

“I tend to build resistances quickly. Poison, curses, magic.”

‘Crazy bastard, stop lying!’

I’d never heard of such a constitution, even in Heukdang, a gathering of eccentrics.

Even paladins, armed with holy resistance, weren’t like this!

But what could I do?

I’d seen it with my own eyes. My best black magic didn’t work on him, and at this rate, my defeat was certain.

‘What do I do?’

‘What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?’

Zabila racked his brain desperately.

I wanted to live.

Using the negative energy gathered in this dungeon, I wanted to advance, become a higher officer, climb even further.

To reach the realm where I could summon a ‘real demon,’ as he put it, make a contract, and put the world at my feet.

Then, an idea flashed through my mind.

Eyes wide, Zabila walked toward the black-haired young man.

To the still-calm youth, I asked,

“…You.”

“Yes.”

“You asked if I could summon a demon, right?”

“Yes. I was curious.”

‘Crazy bastard, you think demons come when you call them like the neighbor’s dog?’

I wanted to snap, but I held back.

Instead, forcing a smile, Zabila said,

“Alright. Can you wait a moment?”

“Wait?”

“Yes! Summoning a demon requires a lot of preparation. It takes time.”

“……”

“Is that okay?”

Sweat beaded on Zabila’s forehead.

The suggestion was absurd.

Who would wait for their opponent in the middle of a fight?

Especially since I was a black magician and demon worshiper. Even a fresh Wooden Plate Mercenary would know how dangerous it was to give someone like me time.

But the youth remained unfazed.

“Fine.”

“…!”

“I’ll give you time. Go ahead and summon a demon. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“…Great, very good.”

Crazy bastard.

Zabila muttered inwardly.

Still, he hurriedly pulled items from his pocket, as if afraid the youth might change his mind.

And rightly so.

The ‘large-scale destruction magic’ he was about to cast required at least five minutes.

‘First, the most important task…’

Opening the gate to the demon realm.

Though called a gate, it was really just slightly widening the thin ‘dimensional rifts’ scattered across the human world.

But even that would draw in dense ‘Magi’ from the demon realm.

It would be far more efficient than the ‘dark mana’ I usually wielded.

Plus, if I could borrow otherworldly knowledge, even briefly, I might manifest far more advanced black magic.

With that in mind, Zabila pulled a severed goat’s head from his pocket and began drawing an inverted pentagram.

As planned, he aimed to forcibly widen the dimensional rift through a dark magic circle.

That wasn’t the end. He lit skull candles and chanted ancient curses, among other tasks.

About five minutes passed.

Wooooom—!

Perhaps because he was an officer of a massive organization like Heukdang, Zabila successfully widened the rift.

He grinned.

He could already feel the demon realm’s damp air.

Unable to resist his desire, he peered into the rift. To gather more Magi, to absorb deeper knowledge, even if it meant burning out, he widened his eyes and scanned inside.

But he didn’t know.

While he gazed into the abyss,

the abyss was gazing back.

The moment he desired something from the abyss,

the abyss desired something from him.

Wooooooom—!

A violent tremor!

As if an earthquake had struck, Zabila’s body shook. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, convulsing as if seized by a fit, looking deeply concerning.

“Are you okay?”

The moment I, Harang, noticed something was wrong and approached,

Gush!

Blood sprayed from Zabila’s eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

Not ordinary blood.

A foul, rotting stench and dark liquid rapidly enveloped his body.

It was profoundly eerie.

Even I, with my strong nerve, stepped back as a sinister atmosphere filled the room. The mercenaries, caught in the chaos magic and slashing at each other, had long collapsed.

Thus, I was the only one standing in the treasure room.

And Zabila… no, something, slowly rising and staring at me with black eyes.

“……”

“……”

The astonishing moment came when we locked eyes for about thirty seconds.

Woooom—

The black entity extended a hand, and with a faint hum, something took shape, like water condensing or ice crystals forming.

It was a necklace. At least, that’s what it looked like to me.

Step.

“…Is this for me?”

Nod, nod.

As if confirming my words, the black entity nodded.

It walked toward me, handed me the necklace, and vanished like mist.

Staring blankly, I muttered,

“What the…?”