The Regressed Illegitimate Child is a Genius Dark Magician

Chapter 1

“Brother! How could you do this to me!”

A man cried out in the midst of a storm. Blood streamed down from one of his eyes, and his intestines threatened to spill out of his abdomen. Yet, the pain from these wounds was nothing compared to the turmoil in his heart. He had not fought for this kind of end. The man could not accept it.

Damian Renekht. The bastard child of the late emperor. The most lowly among the noble-born.

“You know how much I contributed to your conquest of the empire!”

“I do.”

The voice was as sharp as a blade, and even in the face of death, Damian’s body trembled. They had fought side by side on the battlefield for years, but he had never grown used to the sheer killing intent that radiated from this man.

Mikhail von Edenvalt. The empire’s greatest swordsman. The man who, by tomorrow, would ascend the imperial throne.

“Then why—!”

Even as Damian wept tears of blood, Mikhail’s expression did not change. He had always been like this. He had worn the same face when he executed the vassal who had served him all his life.

“Because this is the cleanest solution.”

A seductive voice spoke from behind Mikhail. Even amidst the fierce downpour, she stood with perfect composure, untouched by the rain. A transparent veil shrouded her, preventing anything from approaching her.

The Grand Mage, Rubia de Clarent. By tomorrow, she will be called the empress.

“The civil war has led to countless atrocities. Someone must bear the consequences, don’t you think?”

The emperor had passed away without naming an heir. A civil war was inevitable to determine the next ruler of the empire. The Reformists, led by First Prince Mikhail, and the Legitimists, composed of the empress and her children, clashed in a brutal struggle for the throne. Both factions committed horrifying crimes. They kidnapped and tortured prisoners and civilians, drowned entire villages, and set them ablaze.

“There must not be a single speck of dust on the imperial throne. And the filth accumulated during the war can only be washed away with blood.”

Rubia traced her upper lip with her index finger before pointing it at Damian.

“And so, the one second only to the emperor must take responsibility.”

They would pin all the sins of the war on Damian, and his death would be used to suppress opposition.

‘Damn bitch.’

Damian gritted his teeth and glared at Rubia. It was nonsense. He had burned countless enemies, but he had never committed a true crime.

“This is the last honor I can grant you. This, too, is a sacrifice for the empire.”

Mikhail would personally execute him. The world would remember it as the emperor ridding the empire of a heinous criminal.

“But before you go, let me tell you something interesting.”

Rubia smiled sweetly as she spoke. The two had a long history of animosity. Regardless of what she thought, Damian had always despised her. A wicked woman who saw the lives of subordinates as no more than insects. Why had the heavens granted her unparalleled talent in magic?

“Do you remember Anna and Felix?”

At the sound of those familiar names, Damian’s brow trembled. How could he forget? It had been more than a decade since he last saw them, but they were the only two people who had ever supported him. A massive explosion had once rocked the imperial palace. Many lives were lost, and both the Reformists and Legitimists blamed each other for the catastrophe. Anna and Felix had also perished in that explosion. Just a mere maid and a butler. Their deaths had no impact on the grand political schemes.

They only left an indelible scar on Damian’s heart. Shattered by grief, he had wandered aimlessly for years before accepting Mikhail’s offer to join the Reformists. He had wanted to end the war as soon as possible. Every time he saw innocent corpses strewn along the roadside, he was haunted by memories of Anna and Felix.

“In truth, they didn’t die in the explosion. I killed them.”

Snap.

Something inside Damian broke.

For a moment, all sound in the world disappeared.

“Why… Why…?”

“I never liked them. Watching them fawn over you was such an eyesore.”

Rubia still smiled brightly as she confessed the truth. Damian turned his gaze to Mikhail. There was no sign of surprise in his expression.

“…Was this your order as well?”

“No. Rubia asked for my permission, and I simply did not stop her.”

Which meant that Mikhail could have prevented it, but chose not to. He knew full well how much Anna and Felix meant to Damian.

“But thanks to that, you awakened your hidden talent and sided with the Reformists. In the end, it all worked out for the best, didn’t it?”

Rubia felt no guilt at all. The only reason she was revealing this now was to see how Damian would react.

‘See? If only you had become my lover from the start.’

Rubia whispered to Damian’s mind alone. She had wanted to make him hers, that was why she had killed Anna.

“I’ll kill you, you damned bitch!!”

Though he was at his limit, hatred alone forced Damian to his feet. From his left hand burst a green flame. From his right, a black mass churned. The two forces twisted together, forming a massive spear that hurtled toward Rubia.

KIIIIIIIIII!

His power clashed against Rubia’s magical barrier. At the very least, he would take her head. That was his only wish.

CLANG.

But at the chime of a bell in Rubia’s hand, Damian’s power vanished without a trace.

“Kuaaagh!!”

At the same time, a lump of dark blood erupted from his mouth.

“Mikhail, wasn’t I right?”

“…”

Rubia flicked her finger against the bell, smiling. Beside her, Mikhail continued to gaze down at Damian with cold eyes.

“This artifact was excavated from an ancient ruin years ago. It must be thousands of years old. I wonder what it was created to counter?”

“…Damian, this is the real reason you must die.”

Mikhail’s blade grazed Damian’s throat. A crimson line formed, blood trickling down.

“The forbidden power of the empire.”

Black magic. A power granted by demons from another dimension. Damian had neither talent in swordsmanship nor magic. And yet, he had risen to become one of the empire’s strongest warriors, it was because of his contract with a demon.

“It’s not too late. If you kiss my foot, I might spare your life.”

She had taken everything from him, yet now she wanted him to be hers. She cared nothing for his will or his emotions. There was only one response to such a demand.

“The only thing you’ll get from me is my corpse, you filthy wench.”

A vein bulged on Rubia’s forehead at his words.

Snap.

She snapped her fingers, and from the heavens, a violet bolt of lightning descended.

“——–!!”

Within the blinding light, Damian silently screamed. It felt as if thousands of needles were piercing every inch of his flesh. Rubia’s twisted obsession was assaulting his nerves one by one. All he could do was bite his tongue to remain conscious. As long as that eerie bell continued to ring, he could not use his black magic. Right now, Damian was nothing more than a powerless bastard. A wretched creature crawling in the imperial palace, alive but as good as dead.

“I wished it wasn’t you.”

“It wasn’t black magic, but still, you wouldn’t have let m-me—live….”

“That’s right. I just despised the fact that such a filthy power was used in my path to the throne.”

Spit. 

Damian spat blood-mixed saliva onto Mikhail’s face. Neither loyalty as a vassal nor brotherly affection remained in Damian.

“This was your fate. Your worth is fulfilled in this way.”

Mikhail had never harbored such emotions in the first place.

“Farewell, last black sorcerer. My one and only remaining sibling.”

Thud. 

With those words, the world Damian saw flipped upside down.

* * *

The scorching sunlight disturbed Damian’s peace. As he regained consciousness, he saw a vast plaza and the countless crowds gathered there. It was the plaza in front of the imperial palace. A place used by the imperial family when making major announcements to the public.

‘Why… am I still…?’

Though his neck had been severed, Damian was still not dead. But that was all. With only his head hanging from a pole, he could do nothing but observe and listen to his surroundings. This was not Rubia’s doing. Preserving Damian’s head from decay was possible, but even with modern magic, binding a dead man’s soul was impossible.

“The laws of the empire are absolute and apply to all without exception.”

Mikhail’s voice came from behind. Though he couldn’t turn his head to confirm, Mikhail was surely wearing the emperor’s crown, looking down upon his subjects.

“This includes the royal family. Damian Renekt used black magic, which has been forbidden since the founding of the empire. He made a pact with demons, tainting the heavens and the earth. The only punishment for such a crime is death.”

Beside him, Rubia would be sitting with a fan covering her lips. The Mother of the land. Having secured the position she so desperately desired, she must be smiling even more radiantly, and grotesquely than ever.

“Furthermore, Damian Renekt and his followers committed numerous atrocities during the civil war.”

Suddenly, a violent gust of wind swept through the plaza, causing Damian’s head to sway mercilessly. He was not the only one whose head was displayed in the square. His comrades, who had fought with him as guerrillas, were also executed. They were the ones who had smiled and made promises for the future when the war ended. Some had believed they were granted amnesty and were returning home. Some had dreamed of opening their own shops. Some had rejoiced at finally being able to care for their aging mothers. Some had hoped to rescue their sisters from brothels. Now, all of them were being humiliated, reduced to severed heads.

‘Why, why, why….’

Mikhail had already become emperor, so why was he not satisfied with just Damian’s death? Why did he have to disgrace even them? Damian desperately wanted to ask Mikhail. After Anna and Felix died, these comrades had been the only ones to fill the emptiness in his heart, even just a little. If this had ended with only his own death, perhaps he wouldn’t have felt such rage. But even now, Damian could do nothing. A corpse with only a head left. Merely having consciousness served no purpose.

“The civil war is over. The subjects of the empire shall unite once mo— what….?”

At that moment, as Damian silently screamed, Mikhail’s voice gradually slowed, and the entire world froze. The birds in the sky, the cheering crowd, even the flags fluttering in the wind all came to a standstill.

[Ah. My dear Damian. It has come to this, hasn’t it?]

A rift formed in the air, and a woman stepped out. She had a voluptuous, nearly naked body, with a face as innocent as that of a young girl. Her silk-like hair cascaded down to her feet, and her skin gleamed like white jade. Yet her most defining features were different. A pair of slit pupils, horns like those of a goat, and two wings. Despite her captivating form, she exuded no lust.  Rather, it felt as if thousands of insects were gnawing at his brain. Damian knew the name of this woman, no, this demon.

Ishtar. The Empress of Hell. The ruler of 144 legions. Ishtar, who lightly stepped on the air, cradled Damian’s head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

[It’s sorrowful, painful, and infuriating, isn’t it?]

Ishtar pulled Damian’s head to her chest. Her soft moans tickled his ears.

[Just say the word. I can make everything come true.]

She turned Damian’s head back. There sat Mikhail, sword in hand, exuding authority. Beside him, Rubia wore that detestable smile.

[I can give that wretch a fate worse than death. A suffering so excruciating and gruesome.]

Ishtar turned again, extending her hand to indicate the people gathered in the plaza.

[And what about those fools? Just say the word. I will ensure they pay dearly for their insult.]

This time, she pointed to the severed heads of his fallen comrades.

[Do not worry. I am also a master of compassion. All those you love, and all those who love you, I can gather their souls and let them dwell with you in eternal paradise.]

“Then.”

A raspy voice escaped from Damian’s lips. The reason he was still conscious, the reason time had stopped, the reason he could speak, all of it was Ishtar’s power.

“What is the price?”

Demons are honest beings. They value transactions. If one desires something, one must pay a fair price. Ishtar lifted Damian’s head and met his gaze. Her shimmering eyes were more brilliant than any jewel in the world.

[It is always the same.]

Crunch.

Her smooth forehead split in two, revealing a third eye. Unlike her other two beautiful eyes, this one was different. It was as if the concentrated hatred and loathing of all of Hell had coalesced into this single, dreadful glow.

[Everything.]

This was not the first time. Ishtar had been tempting Damian long before now. But he had always refused. Even though he had made deals with other demons, he could never agree to one with Ishtar. To give her everything meant that Damian would cease to exist in this world. Though he had gained power through pacts with demons, that was the one line he could not cross. Yet Ishtar never gave up.

And now, at his very last moment, she had come to him once again. Offering him the power to take back everything he had lost.

“I refuse.”

Damian’s answer remained unchanged. He wanted to kill Mikhail and Rubia. He wanted to burn their corpses, leaving no trace of them in this world. But it had to be by his own hand. There was nothing more pathetic than seeking vengeance through another.

[Aaah.]

Ishtar’s cheeks flushed. Like a woman overcome with lust, an aroused voice slipped from her lips.

[Yes, my Damian must be this way. The Damian I have chosen, the Damian I desire.]

Ishtar pressed her lips to Damian’s. Her wet, soft tongue entangled with his dry, stiff one.

[So, I shall grant you another chance. Struggle as much as you please.]

Ishtar’s hand brushed over Damian’s eyelids. Strangely, the touch felt warm and comforting. At last, darkness came.