The Regressed Illegitimate Child is a Genius Dark Magician

Chapter 7

The Fourth Prince, Arkin von Edenvalt, was not in a pleasant mood. He was displeased that the duel had dragged on this long. It was supposed to end with just a flick of his finger, just like two years ago. Still, the fact that he would win remained unchanged. That bastard Damian had learned magic beyond his means and was bound to self-destruct.

‘I’ll break one of his legs too.’

With that thought, Arkin launched an ice projectile. The staggering bastard looked like he had no energy left to dodge properly. If he had any sense, he would surrender at this point. Of course, Arkin hoped he wouldn’t. He was already salivating at the thought of that insolent maid’s expression when she saw her master beaten to a pulp.

“What’s so funny that you’re grinning like that?”

Suddenly, an irritating voice interrupted his delightful imagination.

“What?”

CRACK! 

The ice projectile that should have hit Damian directly shattered into pieces, and green flames erupted through the gaps. The blazing flames melted the ice shards into mist, and through the haze, Damian emerged, gripping a sword engulfed in fire.

“You bastard!”

Arkin fired another ice projectile, but the result was the same. Hellfire and swordsmanship. Individually, neither could withstand Arkin’s attacks, but together, the situation had changed. The heat of the hellfire weakened the power of the ice projectiles, and the arming sword struck them, creating cracks. Hellfire seeped into those cracks, completely dissolving the ice projectiles. Since he was wielding a sword, there was no reason to keep his distance. Damian surged forward, slashing with his flaming sword.

BOOM! 

The flaming sword clashed against a translucent barrier. Arkin, who had thought he had the upper hand just moments ago, twisted his face in frustration. Meanwhile, Damian showed no particular emotion and continued to focus on the duel. He immediately turned his body to strike at Arkin’s flank. A mana barrier usually forms only where an attack is coming from. Defending in all directions consumes too much mana. That’s why one must always stay focused. If you lose track of your opponent’s speed, it could lead to a fatal injury. And Damian’s footwork was faster than Arkin had anticipated.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

A series of fierce exchanges followed. Against Damian’s lightning-fast swordsmanship, Arkin could do nothing but continuously deploy his mana barrier.

‘Aura?’

Once a warrior reaches a certain level, their aura may develop specific attributes. Seeing Damian’s sword, Arkin briefly wondered if that was the case, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Damian had some talent in magic, but when it came to aura, he was worse than common thugs. Besides, only the sword was burning, there was no sign of mana flowing through Damian’s body.

‘Wait a second, then how is he moving this fast!?’

Arkin and his guards alike were unable to hide their astonishment at Damian’s movements. Clearly, he wasn’t using aura, yet his swordsmanship displayed power and speed on par with it. It was hard to believe that this was the result of a mere stable hand training for two years. Even the Imperial Knights’ commander wouldn’t be able to teach swordsmanship like this. Only Anna and Felix knew the truth. That Damian’s swordsmanship belonged to the Steel Wolf, the man who had once risen to the ranks of legends through sheer physical prowess and skill alone.

CRACK! 

During the intense exchange, a crack formed in Arkin’s barrier. He had managed to block the previous fire attacks, but now that the sword’s physical force was added, the barrier had reached its limit. Arkin quickly consumed more mana to form another barrier behind him. He had to stop the green flames from seeping in. He had never imagined the duel would turn out like this. If he had known, he would have used flight magic from the start to create distance. Why had he even accepted this duel in the first place? Just because of that lowly maid? Even without this, Damian was just a mere bastard, while Arkin himself was the Fourth Prince of the Empire. And why was Zika just standing there watching? Forget the duel—if his master was in danger, shouldn’t he step in and help somehow?

‘…No, this can’t be!!’

Aside from mana, the most crucial aspect of casting magic was concentration. Once a stray thought disrupted focus, irreparable mistakes could occur, just like what was happening to Arkin now.

CRACK! 

The weakened barrier shattered like glass. Closing the distance even further, Damian left burns and cuts on Arkin’s arm simultaneously.

“AAARGH!”

The wound itself was not deep. Damian had controlled his strength. No matter how it was a duel, cutting off a prince’s arm would bring consequences. He had no desire to experience the Empress’s wrath any more than necessary. But for Arkin, the pain was beyond the severity of the wound. It felt as if his flesh had been peeled off and seared with a hot iron. It was one of the applications of black magic’s hellfire. He had reduced the firepower but increased the pain. Originally, it was used to subdue enemies by pushing them past their pain threshold, but this time, he didn’t go that far.

“You shouldn’t go down this easily.”

Damian had no intention of ending this duel just yet. Because of that, Arkin still had a chance to counterattack. He used magic to lift himself into the air and create distance. At the same time, new ice projectiles flew toward Damian.

‘Hm?’

Once again, Damian successfully deflected the ice projectiles, but he felt a strange sense of discomfort. The cohesion of the ice was incomparably weaker than before. Though Arkin was reaching his limit, this had to be intentional, a deliberate conservation of power.

“Ha! Got you.”

With Arkin’s shout, a violent gust of wind engulfed Damian. It was a wind spell deployed right after the ice projectiles, causing the still-intact ice shards to strike Damian mercilessly. He tried to deflect them with his sword, but there were too many. Overwhelmed, his sword slipped from his grasp. At the same time, the hellfire burning on one of his fingers extinguished. His stamina and mana were still intact, so this had to be some kind of overload.

‘It’s definitely different from the hellfire I used before the regression.’

Similar, but not identical. His past experiences were helpful, but he couldn’t rely on them completely. The solution was simple, continuous training and careful thought. He had to determine the best way to control Molech’s Hellfire. He could figure that out after this duel was over.

1

Meanwhile, Arkin believed that Damian had completely run out of mana. He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from twitching upward.

‘No matter what, this is my victory!’

Arkin was also at his limit. If he used any more magic, he would be bedridden for days. However, he hadn’t exhausted his mana completely. All he had to do was wait for Damian’s declaration of defeat. Or so he thought.

“Huh?”

Arkin’s vision flipped upside down.

Crash! 

At the same time, his back slammed into the ground, and a dull pain surged through his entire body.

Damian had disrupted his center of gravity and thrown him down using just the strength of one arm.

“What are you grinning at?”

Damian immediately climbed on top of Arkin. Then, using both legs, he locked down his opponent’s movements and raised his fist. When facing an enemy barehanded, the most effective strategy is to get on top. Derek’s teachings replayed automatically in Damian’s mind. And after that? You shouldn’t Show any mercy and punch their face in. Especially when dealing with a mage. They can’t use magic if they can’t focus.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Damian’s fist crashed down on Arkin’s face. It didn’t take long for the bridge of his sharp nose to warp and for blood to spill from his lips.

“Y-You…b-bastard!”

Arkin struggled to form words due to Damian’s relentless assault. His voice carried sheer indignation. Physical combat almost never occurred in a standard duel between mages. However, nothing in the Empire’s laws forbade it. Damian’s actions were entirely justified. In the first place, people who were ignorant of black magic had mistaken hellfire for a type of flame magic, but Damian was no mage.

“Listen. Closely. From. Now. On. Stay. Away. From. My. Palace. And. From. Anna.”

“W-What! What a…ridiculous—!”

Desperate to escape, Arkin flailed his arms wildly, but his frail fists couldn’t even reach Damian.

‘W-why does this bastard feel so big?’

Looking up from below, Damian seemed much larger than before. No, he no longer even looked human. It felt like a ravenous wolf was baring its fangs at him.

“Shut! Up! Why would I—!”

Arkin screamed with all his might, but the refined dignity of a prince was nowhere to be found.

“Fine. Then. Try. Me. Again. And. I’ll. Turn. You. Into. Pulp. Once. More.”

Zika and Arkin’s men could do nothing but watch as their master’s face was brutally smashed. A duel sanctioned by imperial law was considered sacred, outsiders could not interfere. A notary could step in to prevent a tragedy, but this situation had not yet reached that point. Understandably so. Blood was pouring from Arkin’s face, and a few of his teeth had been knocked out, but he was still conscious. The safety mechanism had not been activated.

That was intentional on Damian’s part. He could have knocked Arkin out instantly, but he deliberately avoided fatal injuries, choosing instead to accumulate pain. He couldn’t pass judgment on all the crimes Arkin would commit in the future. But Damian remembered them all. And apart from that, he had his own personal feelings toward this half-brother of his.

‘Beating him up is actually pretty fun.’

With each punch, a little of his pent-up resentment faded. It felt as if a refreshing breeze was sweeping through his chest. It was a justified beating under the guise of a duel, why would he refuse such an opportunity? And who knows? Maybe Arkin would learn a valuable lesson and turn over a new leaf.

“A-Alright! I surrender!”

Thud! 

Even after hearing Arkin’s surrender, Damian did not pull back his final punch. Arkin, his face grotesquely swollen like a deformed pastry, let out a weak breath before losing consciousness.

“D-Duel concluded… T-The victor is Damian Renekht…”

Zika announced in a trembling voice. Arkin’s men still struggled to grasp the reality of what had just happened. Leaving behind the defeated Arkin, who now gasped like a fish out of water, Damian slowly stood up. His battered appearance was far worse than before the duel, and his left arm hung limp at his side. Blood dripped from his right fist, the very same one he had used to pummel Arkin’s face. Some of it was Arkin’s blood, but surely some of it was Damian’s as well. Yet his eyes, just as they had been at the beginning, shone with an indescribable light. That sight alone made it difficult for anyone to move. Anna and Felix wanted nothing more than to cheer, but after seeing Damian in this state, they swallowed their emotions. They knew he had changed. But more than that, the atmosphere surrounding him carried an inexplicable pressure.

“I’m hungry.”

Looking at them, Damian muttered in a low voice.