Chapter 12: The Talent of the Enchanter
“Wait, I swore my loyalty—so why am I being thrown into solitary confinement?”
After the banquet ended, a knight escorted me, but the destination was the underground prison.
I frowned and glanced at the knight. Judging by the absence of a mantle on his shoulders, he looked like a trainee.
Maybe it was because I had just come from facing Kamel.
My nerves were emboldened, and the knight in front of me felt like easy prey.
Of course, I was also confident that he couldn’t do anything to harm me, so I let my displeasure show plainly on my face.
The knight furrowed his brow and answered slowly.
“You were imprisoned here as the assassin who killed the First Young Master.”
“So what?”
“There are people waiting to get their hands on you. Just the First Young Master’s faction alone wants to confirm that you’re the one responsible for his death.”
“……”
“The deputy commander said it’ll take some time to extract you, but until then, this cell is the safest place. Do you want to get captured, tortured, and torn to pieces, only to be dumped in the town square?”
“Understood! Please take good care of me!”
I strode briskly into the cell without another word. Apparently, people outside were lurking around like street vendors displaying their wares, waiting to catch me. Until I left the territory, the underground prison seemed like the safest option.
Once the iron door shut, I looked around the cell.
‘Well, the treatment has definitely improved.’
On my first day, they tied me up and beat me like a stray dog during the summer. Now, I was unrestrained and free to move, and the cell was spotlessly clean. On top of that, I had a knight assigned to run errands for me—whatever I needed, I could get through him.
‘Is this the reward for swearing loyalty?’
It was clearly Kamel’s way of trying to build trust.
Currently, I was the only person who had direct ties to “him.” They must have assumed that manipulating a simple assassin like me would be easy.
But unfortunately for them, I knew Kamel Blazer’s true intentions all too well.
‘I’ll have to play along and make the most of this situation.’
I intended to wring out every benefit I could.
I knocked on the iron door. A small slit opened at the top, just large enough for us to exchange glances, and I quickly spoke.
“When can I leave?”
“I don’t know. It’ll be up to the Lord.”
“Please tell him I need to get out as soon as possible. There isn’t much time.”
I had already told Kamel where the signal for our alliance would be displayed.
The Nelitori Rocky Gorge.
It was a massive gorge made up of boulders, located about three days away from Blyer Territory. To establish the alliance, I had to be there.
I’d chosen that location after much thought.
And if time ran out, the entire reason for choosing the Nelitori Rocky Gorge would become meaningless. I needed to arrive there with some time to spare.
‘Two days have already passed since the full moon. Tomorrow will be the third. I have to move quickly.’
I needed enough time to search the gorge for The Curse of the Razor Wind.
As for the signal for the alliance, no one but me knew how it would be activated. I could trigger it at the place and time of my choosing.
I was already thinking ahead to what would happen once I set off the signal.
‘They’ll definitely try to drag me back by force.’
The reason I was under constant watch was tied to my expected return.
Once the alliance signal was triggered, I would lose my freedom to move as I pleased. If I wanted to evade my watchers, it had to happen either right before or immediately after the signal was sent.
I had to find a way out through the gorge, ideally securing an escape route that would also lead me to the Curse of the Razor Wind.
‘If I’m lucky, I might even get my hands on it.’
I recalled the ancient sigil hidden within the gorge.
Siren’s Scream.
It was an ability that, in the future, would become a key part of Kamel’s forces, wielded by the dark shaman Donecolint. Fortunately, I had some information on it.
If everything went according to plan, I intended to claim that ancient sigil for myself.
“Can I see the belongings of the assassins who were killed?”
“Their belongings?”
“There’s something I need to confirm. It’s essential for my mission. Please let them know.”
“Wait here.”
The knight didn’t take long to return.
With the sound of footsteps, the iron door creaked open, and a large bundle was thrown inside with a thud.
“Everything belonging to the assassins is in there. You’re allowed to take whatever you need.”
“I can really take it all?”
“Yes. Also, we’ll be moving in two days.”
“Two days, huh...”
I nodded deeply.
The timing was perfect.
The knight shut the door with a loud clang and left. The bundle looked quite heavy.
When I picked it up, I grimaced at the unpleasant, sticky sensation on my hands.
‘...Blood?’
Blood dripped from the bottom of the bundle. I let out a short breath and untied it.
As a rancid stench hit my nose, I covered my face and began to inspect the items inside.
“Damn bastards… I asked for their things, not their clothes too.”
The assassins’ belongings were all here, along with their stripped clothes.
I pulled out a dagger and used its tip to push aside the clothing. After searching for a while, I clicked my tongue in annoyance and shook my head.
‘They’ve taken all the herbs.’
I had hoped to stash some poisonous or medicinal herbs, but it seemed the shamans had already grabbed everything of value.
All that remained were the weapons and clothes of the dead assassins.
I set aside three daggers and a crossbow that had belonged to the captain, leaving the rest untouched. Then, I searched through the captain’s clothes, knowing that if anything useful remained, it would likely be among his personal items.
Sure enough, I found a map detailing the surrounding area and tucked it into my pocket. As I was inspecting the pants, something caught my eye.
“Huh?”
It was a crumpled note, stained with blood. At first, it seemed insignificant, tucked away in the pants, but as I read it, I realized it contained sensitive information.
[Verify the hatchling’s death. —M.]
‘Hatchling... That’s referring to me, isn’t it?’
In Crux’s terminology, “hatchling” meant a newcomer.
In other words, this was an order to confirm my death. And the one who issued the command was none other than M, the master of Crux.
“They want to confirm my death? The master himself?”
I briefly wondered if there was some deep grudge between us, but considering they hadn’t killed me immediately, that didn’t seem to be the case.
It was more likely that the damned Arcane had prodded the master into it, spouting something about fate. That guy was known to be easily swayed by such things.
‘What nonsense did he spout this time?’
Suddenly, I felt a surge of resentment toward Arcane.
I had once admired him, imagining him as a legendary wizard like Merlin from movies and stories. But now… not so much.
Regardless of the reason, Crux’s master wanted me dead. That meant one thing:
From this point forward, Crux was my enemy.
“Well, I guess this will do for now.”
I glanced at the three daggers and crossbow lying on the ground and smacked my lips.
It was a shame I couldn’t get any herbs, but acquiring weapons wasn’t a bad outcome either.
Since I would likely be staying in the underground prison for at least another day, I decided to properly train my body.
Even though the organization had abandoned me, there was a reason the master had once singled me out as a potential successor. I intended to find out what made this body special.
Gripping a dagger in each hand, I stood up and bounced lightly in place, adjusting my stance as I faced the wall.
As I eyed the dagger, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I never thought I’d be wielding blades again. The only thing I’ve sliced recently was boiled pork.”
Life was full of surprises.
“Let’s see how this goes…”
I couldn’t guarantee I’d have another opportunity like this. I needed to take full advantage of the time I had—it could mean the difference between life and death.
With that thought, I swung the daggers with all my strength.
This was my first step toward mastering the blades in this world.
In the empty solitary cell, the sound of sharp, slicing winds echoed.
In this world, power was divided into four major categories.
It was basic information anyone could pick up just from reading novels.
Derived from the primordial energy, mana, four distinct forces existed:
Aura, the energy of enhancement.
Magic, the energy of reversal.
Spiritual Power, the energy of the abyss.
And lastly, the fourth, Divine Power, the energy of mystery, which stood apart from the other three.
Those who awakened mana would, upon reaching the third star (a term denoting rank or mastery), naturally align with one of these four energies based on their talent and fate.
For reference, this body I inhabited had only reached the first star—the lowest rank.
It meant I was just a beginner who had barely touched the surface of mana.
Most assassins, upon reaching the third star, would learn Aura, the energy of enhancement. This made sense, given that their profession relied heavily on physical prowess.
However, in extremely rare cases, an assassin would awaken Divine Power.
Divine Power was a unique energy, different from aura, magic, and spiritual power.
There were only two ways to acquire it.
The first was through innate talent—a gift one was born with, similar to a supernatural ability.
The second way was to obtain a Relic of a Successor—a sacred artifact containing the knowledge and power of an ancient being. These relics were hidden in secret locations across the continents, passed down from the absolute powers of thousands of years ago.
However, relics were notoriously difficult to find, and even harder to claim, as they demanded harsh trials. Without a stroke of incredible fortune, it was nearly impossible to obtain one. As a result, most who wielded Divine Power were born with it.
“Hah… If this body were in the Olympics, I’d have swept the gold medals and lived off retirement money, enjoying the good life.”
I could probably conquer the UFC too, crushing every opponent and ending up with scandals involving the ring girls…
“Oh, right. Focus.”
I shook off my wandering thoughts and forced myself to concentrate again.
Even though I only had first-star mana, the moment I channeled it, my physical abilities soared beyond the limits of an ordinary human.
The fact that I could now cling to the ceiling like Spider-Man was proof of what my body could achieve with mana.
Dropping lightly to the floor, I gripped the daggers and resumed my practice.
This time, I planned to push myself to the limit.
“Huff… huff…”
I wasn’t sure how long I had been swinging.
My arms and legs were trembling, and my mind felt dazed. It seemed I had trained for quite some time.
At first, my movements had been clumsy, like a stiff mannequin. But now, my stance had naturally corrected itself, and I could wield the daggers with precision, striking exactly where I intended.
‘Just a little more…’
It felt like I was on the verge of grasping something, but it continued to elude me.
There was a reason I kept swinging without stopping.
The more I pushed my body to its limits, the more fragments of my past as an assassin-in-training resurfaced.
It was as if flicking a switch had caused memories of my training days to flood my mind—brief flashes that appeared, then slowly faded.
Among those flashes, one memory stood out.
[“You have a special talent.”]
It was something the master of Crux had once told me.
Back then, he had personally trained me, believing in my potential.
I remembered the excitement that had filled me then—the expectation that I might achieve greatness.
And then—
[“Damn it… Your so-called talent is garbage! I was wrong about you!”]
I could still see his cold, merciless back as he abandoned me, filled with bitter disappointment.
With a jolt, I snapped out of my thoughts, standing frozen in place. My entire body was drenched in sweat, steam rising from my skin.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t exercised like this in a long time, but the strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration felt oddly good.
There was a sensation—something tickling at the edges of my awareness, just out of reach.
And I had caught a glimpse of it, hidden within my memories.
It was the clue to my special talent.
“Whew…”
Taking a short breath, I leveled one of the daggers in front of me. Clenching my teeth, I focused all my attention on the blade.
Vwoooom!
A subtle vibration ran through the dagger.
This body’s talent, which had been lying dormant in my memory, awakened naturally, as easily as breathing.
I stared at the dagger, now faintly coated in a pale blue aura, and let out a small laugh.
“I’m only first-star, yet I can imbue energy into my weapon?”
Of course, this wasn’t quite the same as a Sword Aura, which was a power typically reserved for those of the fifth star or higher.
No, this was something different—a special ability. Rather than being powered by mana, it involved infusing the weapon with a unique kind of energy.
Since I was only at the first star, the energy carried no elemental attributes—it was just raw power.
I threw the dagger toward the wall.
Thud!
The dagger sank halfway into the wall, leaving deep cracks where it struck. When I had thrown it without energy earlier, it had barely scratched the surface.
“With talent like this… it looks like I’ve awakened Divine Power.”
The dagger embedded in the wall still shimmered with energy. If it had been mana, the energy would have dissipated the moment the dagger left my hand.
This was something different.
A unique energy.
The ability to imbue weapons with power—this was the hallmark of an Enchanter.
The memories that had resurfaced confirmed it.
This body possessed the rare talent of an Enchanter, a wielder of Divine Power capable of enchanting weapons.
“An Enchanter, huh…”
I muttered quietly to myself, staring at the glowing dagger lodged in the wall.