Before leaving, Evan briefly sent Felix back.
He had ordered him to guard the carriage.
Felix looked at Evan with eyes full of admiration, nodded, and withdrew.
Fabian, the black magician, watched that scene.
This is impossible.
Fabian’s eyes creased with even deeper wrinkles than before as he was escorted like a criminal, his wrists bound by the demon’s chains.
He had reached the seventh-tier and extended his lifespan considerably, but summoning that demon had consumed a lot of his power.
He had used a curse without being able to properly recover from that expenditure.
Naturally, his lifespan had plummeted and he had visibly aged.
Even after casting such a curse.
Why… is he unaffected?
Evan did not flinch.
If it had been another magician or a swordsman, the moment they felt the curse they would have thrown a blade.
If Fabian died, the curse would strengthen—he had fired it aiming for that exact effect—so why was there no reaction?
Fabian’s pupils trembled.
The curse had definitely touched Evan.
That was unquestionable.
He had even shaved years off his life to cast it, so that level of potency was to be expected.
Yet the curse had no effect.
It seemed to collapse, as if even its duty had grown too lazy to function, and it simply sagged uselessly downward.
Yaaawn.
The boy slumped on the golem and yawned widely.
Evan clapped his hands, produced something, and placed it into the boy’s mouth.
“It won’t taste good, but please eat this.”
“Mm…”
The boy chewed absentmindedly.
There was no hint of desire, hunger, or will in his expression.
Fabian glanced at the boy’s condition.
If things went well, he could sacrifice him and try to flee…
A chill ran up Fabian’s spine.
The instant he tried to probe the boy’s body or weaknesses, his own ability shut down.
It was as if his mana fled in terror.
This can’t be happening.
My magic—won’t even work?
Fabian had risen to the seventh tier and strengthened his convictions along the way.
His combat might have been mediocre, but he had refined detection and escape magics to an extreme degree.
His mana use was stealthy and silent—enough to gauge anyone.
And yet that mana was driven away, as if expelled.
How can this be real?
Could that kid be a blood relative of the Alkarts?
No. That’s impossible.
Duke Kabaro had taken only two wives and had never publicly acknowledged concubines.
His stern nature was known even in the underworld, and it seemed unlikely he’d father an illegitimate child.
Besides, Evan stood right beside the boy and looked strikingly similar.
So the boy must have refused Fabian’s detection because of his own ability or unique constitution.
Is this… the alchemist’s power?
Alchemists—those seekers who analyze everything and try to create something from nothing—were different.
Magic that worked normally often failed against them because their methods and structures were fundamentally unlike magic and swordsmanship.
Did he even expect I would try to use my power?
Cold sweat streamed down Fabian’s forehead.
The Demon of Victory glanced back, snorted softly, and turned away with a smile.
As if there was no longer any reason to pay him attention, the demon refused to look back.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Fabian guided Evan with a face that looked far older than before.
Buried in the sand was a ruin.
Truly a ruin—more like a wreck now—and anything valuable seemed to have been looted.
“There’s nothing worth keeping.”
Aegis searched quickly and clicked his tongue.
“If we’d come earlier we might’ve found an elixir or materials… but it looks like everything’s been stripped. It’s ancient.”
“If you go to the underworld, you can get anything you want,” Fabian said, rubbing his hands sheepishly as if he’d been dealing in shady business all along.
Evan didn’t care.
Instead he stared at the gate and made a sour face.
What is this?
It’s a pretty high-grade bypass gate.
The underworld—also called the Black Market—was a lawless zone not located on the continent in the normal sense.
Territories that claimed to be the underworld were mere branches; the true market hid in a shadowed, otherworldly space created by the Shadow King.
It was unstable, but because of that it could be perfected—a world only Cabaro held the authority to manage.
But Cabaro did not block all outside entry.
He left several bypass gates, an invitation for talent to find its way in if it could.
This was one of them.
Even to analysis, the structure’s components were hard to parse.
It’s quite old. At most a year before it collapses.
Its durability had already reached its limit.
Maybe it would break this time.
I hoped it would hold at least once more.
Still, he couldn’t ignore it.
—It was family regulation.
If a bypass to the underworld was discovered, it must be retrieved or destroyed.
Family discipline.
If he broke that, who knew what he’d be dragged into hearing.
Especially since he had to milk every advantage before he survived.
“Pig—”
“?”
Evan almost called to Pigritia to enter, then bit his tongue.
No—what was that kid’s name?
Dammit. The name’s hard to remember—too long.
Pigritia? Pigtricia? Damn it—the name wouldn’t come.
…No choice.
He couldn’t show that he’d forgotten.
Lapis and Frey enjoyed naming things. Maybe this one would too.
“Do you like your name?”
Pig—whatever shook its head.
Was this one of those Irana Schper-type cases?
That might not be bad.
Right. I just opened an orphanage anyway…
It was too late to abandon the child; he’d take them along and send them to the orphanage afterward.
Frey had reformed (or been reclaimed), so at least some minimal education could be provided.
“I want to give you a name—would that be okay?”
“…A name?”
“Yes. ‘Pig…’ at the start doesn’t have a good ring to it.”
The child stared at Evan intently.
Did he dislike the idea? No—because the eyes were inexplicably like Lapis’s expectation.
“Name me.”
Ah.
What name should he choose?
Evan glanced away and spotted a glittering gem in the distance.
It wasn’t just a raw gem; it seemed worked.
“By the way, are you male or female?”
“…Me? Female.”
“?”
Am I the male?
Why didn’t the kid know their own sex? Evan looked down incredulously.
Pig—whatever yawned.
Clearly the child didn’t care about gender.
Was this nonbinary or just apathetic?
“Want me to check?”
“No.”
Evan declined firmly.
The demon scratched its head.
“You stay put too. No one pay attention to 5 or Aegis.”
“I’m not interested in the kid.”
5 nodded as if he only cared about priestesses.
Whoever was obsessed with that woman…
What name felt energetic?
“Red—how about Red?”
“Not really.”
“Then Royan?”
He twisted Rose to something like Royan to suggest diligence; Rose would be too feminine.
A neutral name usable by any gender.
“I like it.”
“Good. From now on, you’ll be called Royan.”
Pig… no, Royan nodded.
He seemed oddly pleased.
Was that okay?
Well, it couldn’t hurt.
“Royan. Royan. Royan.”
He repeated the name a few times and cocked his head.
“I feel… motivated somehow. Is it the name?”
“That’s all thanks to Evan!”
Lapis strutted forward proudly.
“Being next to Evan makes you want to do anything.”
“Anything…? That’s bothersome…”
“Ew. Then what do you actually like?”
Royan cocked his head at Evan.
Everything nearby?
Feeling motivated—he sure ate a lot afterwards.
But is it good for a Sin to get motivation?
Wasn’t that bad?
If over-enthusiastic, Royan could become a hyperactive killer.
Still, Sloth was one of the more humane of the Sins—he did not directly kill out of spite, but spread lethargy to cause death.
Making even breathing bothersome enough to die was cruel, but at least it was better than turning someone into a bloody juice to drink.
If someone didn’t even feel pain because it was bothersome, that was grim.
“Are we really going in?”
“Yes. It’s a family rule.”
“I’ve always wanted to see the underworld.”
Aegis looked at the gate with interest.
“Would it be okay if I follow in?”
“Yes, you may, but—”
“May, but?”
“Whatever sounds you hear inside, do not pay attention.”
“Huh?”
“Understood!”
Evan sighed and stood before the entrance.
“Demon. You will not come. Return to where you were.”
The demon nodded.
Lapis, who had been trailing, gasped and stepped back.
“Ah! I want to say goodbye to Mister Demon!”
“?”
Mister Demon?
When did you get so friendly?
“Don’t be late.”
“All right!”
Evan, Aegis, and 5 entered the gate first.
Please, no one should be in front.
Whoosh!
The instant they entered, the place was packed.
It was one of the peak times for the Black Market.
All eyes in the crowd turned to Evan.
They all took in his face and their eyes widened.
Ah. Please, not now.
“Oooooooooh!”
One of them—a manager wearing a badge that showed he oversaw the area—stepped forward and cried out.
“Our king has returned!”
“He has returned! Finally!”
“Narcotics—!”
“Shh, shh! Shut up! Do you want your head taken off by catching his eye?!”
Maybe we should just leave?
***
We must run.
Fabian prepared to flee the instant Evan disappeared.
Although his rank might be reduced, he planned to use a single soul-swap to escape.
He was about to do so when—
“Hey there.”
Lapis smiled and spoke.
What was this brat?
Fabian tried to ignore her.
Or rather, he intended to.
Then he felt a string drift right to his throat.
“!”
Fabian hastily released mana outward.
It was a simple expulsion, not a proper spell.
Under normal circumstances Fabian would have disliked such clumsy use of power, but he had no choice.
Gag!
As the skill attempted to activate and was canceled, something rose in his throat.
Lapis giggled at him, but her ruby-red eyes glowed ominously like coals.
“I was taught not to kill people. Evan hates that.”
A chill.
Lapis’s voice carried a thick killing intent.
“But you—cast a curse on Evan, didn’t you?”
“How did you—”
“The Silent Curse. You’ll live your life unable to speak, unable to swallow, and die like that. How dare you cast such a thing on my Evan?”
Lapis’s face twisted into something like a vengeful omen.
“You should be prepared to pay the price.”
“Be mute for the rest of your life, fine? You can only say two words—poop for yes, pee for no. Got it?”
This mad kid.
The black magician who realized he could not escape chose only one path.
A frontal assault.
He raised his mana.
“Do I… look like an ordinary black magician!?”
“No.”
Lapis smiled and stopped the hand that had been weaving threads.
The thread from between her palms stretched and formed a new shape.
“From now on you’ll be a handicapped black magician who can only say poop and pee.”
A thread golem.
Imitations of the golems Evan controlled, made of thread.
Wings of thread unfurled behind her.
Evan was no longer in the vicinity.
There was no need to restrain anger.
Sssshhh—
The threads poured down like spears of judgment.
Wrath incarnate.
One who claimed to be Evan’s apostle.
Lapis lowered her finger and whispered softly.
“All of this—it’s for Evan.”
That day, a ruin vanished.
Only one eyewitness account remained.
It said only that blackened threads spread like a spiderweb.