Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

Inyakan’s bracer let out a ‘sharrrr’ sound.

It was the noise made when the specially grooved slots met the wind.

He had not yet drawn his sword, Sikrun. He didn’t want to kill Binaeril.

But after several exchanges of blows, Inyakan seriously considered drawing Sikrun from his waist.

“Get a hold of yourself!”

Boom!

“Wake up!”

Kaboom!

Every time Binaeril’s magic bullets clashed with Inyakan’s fists, explosions echoed.

‘Doesn’t he understand moderation?’

He had been briefly informed about Binaeril’s condition on the carriage ride.

Inyakan found it difficult to judge.

Had Binaeril completely lost his mind, never to return to his original state?

If so, Inyakan could cut him down without hesitation.

‘Wait, hold on.’

If he killed Binaeril, it would nullify all their agreements.

Especially the promise to uncover the truth behind the deaths of his tribe members.

He couldn’t shamelessly return to Elfenbine and pressure the professors to reveal the truth after killing Binaeril.

“I guess I have no choice but to make him snap out of it….”

Persuading and coaxing.

These were the methods Inyakan was least confident in.

He was skilled in threats, intimidation, extortion, and various attempted crimes, but he was not good at persuasion.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Even at that moment, Binaeril was launching deceitful magic arrows at him.

“Maybe I should knock him out first and think about it?”

That seemed like the right answer.

Just like a pine caterpillar must eat pine needles,

perhaps he needed to knock Binaeril out first and then wake him up again?

Veritas, unusually, tried to persuade Binaeril.

-Listen carefully. Starfall is a powerful foe. If you clash with him, I might end up like Mimung.

Binaeril replied curtly.

‘So what?’

-So what? It means you’ll lose the power to ever take revenge on your brother.

‘So you deceived me?’

-I didn’t deceive you. You have a tendency to see me in a bad light. Follow my words. Think about controlling the surrounding mana slowly.

Binaeril was dumbfounded by Veritas’s words, which blamed him.

Who acted this way in the first place?

-Mimung’s power is now ours. It’s no longer an alien force. Think of it similarly to how you accepted my mana and used magic.

‘What am I supposed to do?’

-When you first used magic, how did you handle my mana? And how do you use it now?

‘Just like using Veritas’s mana…’

Having dealt with Veritas’s mana for a long time, Binaeril had become proficient in using its power.

Veritas’s mana was like a lake blocked by the dam of Binaeril’s soul.

The lake was vast and deep.

Binaeril could open a small gate to let the water flow in at any time. However, closing the gate to stop the gushing water was harder than opening it.

-You view my mana as an internal power. But Mimung is different. How did he handle his mana?

Mimung wielded his unique red mana like limbs or tentacles, using it physically.

It was an intuitive method of handling mana, but one that other mages couldn’t imitate.

Why? Because it required using and controlling an enormous amount of mana at such a concentrated density that it took shape.

‘Wait, so that means…’

Binaeril suddenly found the common denominator between Veritas and Mimung’s powers.

It was the ‘enormous amount of mana.’

And Binaeril already knew, albeit clumsily, how to control it.

-That’s it.

Even while conversing with the Book of Truth, the struggle between Inyakan and Binaeril continued.

As Binaeril kept dodging and firing magic bullets from a distance, Inyakan grew increasingly frustrated.

“Come here! You rat!”

Inyakan was now chasing Binaeril not to calm him down, but purely out of his own anger.

“KSHVARL!”

A curse so vile that any Inya who heard it would cover their ears burst from his mouth.

But fortunately or unfortunately, there was no barbarian present to understand it.

Watching Binaeril flee, Inyakan decided to use a secret technique of the Inya tribe he had been saving.

It wasn’t something used except against mortal enemies… well, whatever. It wasn’t like any ordinary attack would faze Binaeril.

Inyakan was a man who didn’t look back.

“If you die, it can’t be helped. Who told you to run?”

With that, he brushed off the last remnants of his conscience.

“MAL PARAVINYA, INYA VAISA.”

He muttered something.

Had Binaeril heard it, he would have been startled.

The words carried mana, roughly infused.

It was a spell passed down among the Inya tribe.

‘Use Veritas’s mana in Mimung’s way.’

It was a perspective Binaeril had never considered before.

-Think of your limbs as being extended. You lost control of your body because Mimung’s overwhelming mana transferred to you all at once.

‘Like when you can’t control overly immersive magic?’

Losing control and letting magic go berserk was a common mistake among novice mages.

-Exactly.

Binaeril closed his eyes and focused his mind.

Though he had lost control of his body, his senses were still vivid.

As he concentrated more deeply, he began to sense something.

Binaeril hadn’t lost control of his body.

New streams of mana surrounding him were binding him like a mummy and manipulating him.

It must be the remnants of the cursed sword.

The mana was attacking indiscriminately out of inertia, and Inyakan just happened to be the unfortunate target.

‘That means…’

If Binaeril could control the mana, Inyakan would also be safe.

The amount of mana he could initially control was like a thin thread.

Even that slight control caused his body to twitch.

Inyakan, focused on his spell, didn’t notice the slight change.

The mana he could move soon grew to the size of a tuft of hair, and then to a bundle as big as a heap of clothes.

Binaeril was so absorbed in this that he didn’t notice Veritas quietly observing his face.

At that moment, Inyakan was repeating the same incantation outside.

“MAL PARAVINYA, INYA VAIS. MAL PARAVINYA, INYA VAISA…”

As he repeated the incantation, his limbs glowed red.

Only the color changed; there was no increase in heat.

It was proof that the spirits of the Inya were inhabiting his arms and legs.

When the spell reached its peak, Inyakan bent his knees and sprang forward.

Kicking up a cloud of dust, his body shot towards Binaeril with unprecedented speed.

“Don’t die, Binaeril!”

Inyakan thrust his fist forward with all his might.

At that exact moment, Binaeril regained full control over the mana binding him.

He shouted, but the next instant, his vision was filled with Inyakan’s glowing red fist.

‘What is this…’

Before he could fully articulate his thought, Inyakan’s fist struck his face.

Inyakan was equally startled by Binaeril’s voice, but it was too late to stop.

A sound like breaking wood echoed, and Binaeril felt a familiar sense of déjà vu.

Last time it was the back of his head; this time it was his face.

Binaeril was sent flying by Inyakan’s powerful punch.

“…Did he survive?”

He seemed to remember everything up to this point…

Binaeril stood up, clutching his nose.

“Huh, are you even human?”

An excessively insulting remark for an apology came out.

Binaeril wiped his stinging face with his palm and responded.

“Inyakan, is that supposed to be an apology?”

“How did you survive?”

“I blocked it at the last moment.”

At the last moment, he gathered the mana he had regained control of and enveloped his face.

It was a method similar to how Mimung wielded his red mana.

It was more of an unconscious reflex than a deliberate action.

Binaeril raised his right arm.

Following his gaze, blue mana sprouted from his back.

He moved his left arm next, then swung both arms as if guiding the blue mana, and finally moved the mana with just his will, without moving his arms.

All attempts were successful. The mana control was remarkably smooth and natural.

Inyakan observed his actions silently and then asked,

“What’s with those wings?”

“Wings?”

Binaeril tilted his head to check his back.

The blue mana was sprouting from his shoulder blades.

Indeed, as Inyakan described, they resembled blue wings.

“That’s the method the cursed sword used.”

“Did you absorb its power after defeating it? Or did you learn it?”

“…It’s probably more like the former.”

“Taking something from others and making it your own strength. Magic is truly hard to understand.”

Binaeril found it equally hard to understand.

At this point, could he even call this magic anymore?

He shifted his gaze.

Facing east, where the sun was behind them, he could now clearly sense a presence.

‘Is that Starfall’s presence?’

-Yes.

Even without seeing it, he could feel a presence as vast as a mountain, as profound as the ocean, beyond the horizon.

“Inyakan. Let’s move.”

“Where to?”

“Straight east.”

Callisto’s outstretched sword left a luminous trajectory like a meteor shower.

That trajectory sliced Priya’s body in two. Her body, split in half, dissolved into the white background.

Avia covered her mouth in shock.

It was magic, but it was such an unusual use of mana that it was hard to fathom how it was done.

Callisto wasn’t as surprised as Avia.

He sheathed his retrieved sword and stared into the air.

The figure of Priya he had cut down was dissipating like a fog.

With a sharp shout, he executed a second draw!

The sword strikes, like a peacock’s display, dominated the space and sliced through every wisp of the dispersing fog.

“Amazing!”

Was that the skill of the paladins the Order prided itself on?

Pierre, standing next to her, also let out a low murmur.

The white mist scattered even more thinly before gathering again and shooting toward Callisto.

Callisto, with Starfall drawn, formed a circular sword barrier.

The white mist collided with Callisto’s barrier and couldn’t advance any further, crumbling away.

“Sir, don’t you have any intention of handing over Starfall?”

Priya’s voice echoed from within the billowing clouds.

“Coming to reclaim something and demanding what I have in my hand too? Sister, don’t you think that’s overly rude?”

“Neither of us can win this fight.”

“That might have been true before. But now that I hold the holy sword, you cannot be so certain.”

Callisto extended his sword toward the retreating mist once more.

Avia wondered what cutting through the air could possibly accomplish, but this time was different.

Swish!

“Agh!”

“There you are!”

A slicing sound came from the mist, and Callisto shouted.

In the next moment, Priya appeared, collapsed on the ground.

“If you don’t want to get hurt, hand over the cursed sword.”

“…This won’t be enough to stop me.”

Priya exhaled a long plume of smoke and once again blended into the background, disappearing.

Callisto pursued her through the mist, extending his sword, and each time a white mass recoiled in surprise.

As Avia and Pierre were engrossed in the battle,

someone approached them silently.

It was another waiting paladin.

“Excuse me, are you allies of Lady Priya?”