The Return of the Archmage (Part 1)

Bashka — the capital of the Kingdom of Tormia.

Beneath the mountains surrounding the royal castle lies a dungeon 70 meters underground, completed a century ago. This place, known as the Dark Labyrinth, once served as the stronghold of Viltor Arcane, a sorcerer who once threatened the entire world.

Arcane, a master of dark magic, was a legendary figure who waged war against countless nations—until he mysteriously vanished 40 years ago due to an unknown incident.

At the time of his disappearance, he held an unofficial rank of 3rd class mage.

Any magician who reaches 3rd class or higher, regardless of official recognition, is honored with the title Grand Mage. Mage rankings are determined by the Magic Association based on achievements and reputation.

For context, it takes 1,000 points to rise from 10th to 9th class, while jumping from 4th to 3rd class demands an astronomical 280 million points. Clearing a high-level dungeon awards just 500 achievement points, and a royal audience earns only 1,000 fame points—highlighting how godlike a 3rd-class magician must be.

"...Huff… Huff…"

In a glass capsule filled with green liquid, the 149-year-old Arcane slowly opened his eyes.

His body was emaciated, his skin drooping, and he was entirely unclothed. Without the life-support system that suppressed cellular breakdown, death would have claimed him long ago.

At last… the Essence of Darkness is complete.

He turned his gaze toward the black crystal on the desk. Once a gem as bright as a diamond, it had darkened into obsidian after years of ritual magic, where Arcane had infused it with dark power daily.

Wait for me, Alpheas… I will have my revenge.

Gurgle… gurgle...

The liquid drained from the tube, and as the chamber opened, Arcane collapsed to the floor, wheezing and writhing in agony.

"Canis! Arin! Get in here!"

The door opened, and a man and a woman entered—his disciples. The room felt ominous, heavy with the aura of dark magic.

"You called, Master?"

"Clothes. Bring my robe."

Canis handed him a green robe. Arcane dressed himself without a care for Arin's presence and hobbled to a chair, letting out a long exhale.

"Whew… finally, I can breathe again."

"Are you alright, Master?" Canis asked.

Arcane glanced at him. Canis, of Eastern descent, had black hair, black eyes—and even black irises, a rare trait linked to dark magic.

Such beautiful eyes… That's why I took you in.

Arin, however, didn't leave much of an impression. She was talented, but too young and inexperienced to be a proper mage. Even now, she was visibly uncomfortable with the sight of Arcane's aging, unclothed form.

Tch. What use is someone like her? If not for being Canis' closest friend, I wouldn't have brought her at all.

It's already been seven years...

Back then, Arcane had to rely on life support for over 12 hours a day. He used what little strength remained to sneak into the capital, Bashka.

The city's polished exterior concealed a dark underbelly—especially in the slums of Radum.

This district was so deeply afflicted by poverty that even beggars in other cities fared better. In Radum, children fought over scraps from trash cans, often killing just for fish bones.

That's where Arcane first encountered Canis and Arin.

At only ten years old, Canis had managed to survive in Radum, protecting Arin with raw aggression. Arcane saw something in his fury—something he admired.

So he brought them both to the dungeon, made them serve him, and taught them magic.

"Let's begin."

As Arcane rose, Canis instinctively stepped forward to help him up.

"No need. I can handle it."

Today was the day Arcane would finally break free from his aging body. He refused to appear weak.

"Bear witness to the power of dark magic."

Arcane held the black crystal in trembling hands. Though his body was frail, his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

The crystal softened like wax and crept up his arm, pulsing like living veins as it wrapped around his entire body.

"Guaaah!"

He screamed like a beast. For an ordinary person, absorbing 40 years of stored dark energy at once would have been fatal.

But Arcane endured.

The two pillars of dark magic are absorption and assimilation. The ability to infuse and retrieve power from the crystal was made possible through these principles.

"Urgh…"

Arcane's shadow writhed like fire, then suddenly burst like an explosion.

Dark tendrils shot out in every direction, crawling along the ground and walls. The room howled with an eerie wind.

Canis and Arin shut their eyes tight.

After some time, when they dared to look again, Arcane was standing tall. The frail old man was gone.

While not exactly youthful, he now radiated strength. His skin had regained color, and his gaze brimmed with life.

Canis shivered under the overwhelming aura.

So this… this is the power of a Grand Mage. I've heard stories, but this is beyond anything I imagined...

"Hehehe…"

Arcane chuckled, pleased. He was back—just as powerful as the day Alpheas had defeated him.

"Let's go. From this day forward, I will rewrite the history of magic."

Without lingering in the moment, Arcane strode toward the outside world—his 40-year vengeance finally awakened.

Inferno — Western Prison of Bashka

Inferno housed the kingdom's worst criminals, from Class D to B. The security was intense.

"Halt! This area is restricted!"

Two guards pointed their spears toward the intruders. Even if they were old men or children, procedure was strict.

"State your identity! Failure to comply will lead to arrest!"

Arcane's face twisted in disgust.

"Greenhorns…"

His shadow extended, merging with the guards' shadows.

Without a moment to react, the guards collapsed, eyes rolled back.

"Pathetic. Not even a warm-up."

As Arcane passed through the front gate, a lookout sounded the alarm.

"INTRUDER! ATTACK! LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED!"

Arcane smiled as guards swarmed him.

"It's been a while since I felt this thrill."

His shadow lashed out like tentacles, connecting to over 20 soldiers.

"What the—?! Why can't I move?!"

"Why are you attacking me?! What's going on?!"

Arcane waved a hand, and the guards began attacking one another, completely out of control.

"Stop! Are you insane?!"

"I can't—my body won't listen!"

Arin paled. She had the unique ability to feel others' emotions—and right now, the guards were consumed by raw terror.

"Canis… you didn't say the Master would come here. The kingdom won't let this go."

Canis also had his doubts, but he trusted Arcane completely.

"I don't know what he's planning either… Let's go."

Arcane calmly walked away, his pack on his back. As he released his hold, the guards collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.

Canis frowned.

Mind control…

A signature dark magic that used shadows to manipulate its targets.

To the shadow, there's no separation between self and others… no boundaries between objects.

The Limitations of Dark Magic

Dark magic in its most complete form could easily be considered one of the most overpowered schools of magic. But despite its fearsome capabilities, it had one fatal flaw that overshadowed all its strengths.

It was weak to light.

In daylight, darkness could only exist as a shadow no wider than a hand. The brighter the light, the more mental energy a dark mage had to expend just to cast a single spell.

Naturally, dark magic was at its strongest during the night—but even that advantage had faded in recent years. With the rise of photon magic developed by the genius Kergos, dark magic became increasingly obsolete.

There was a time when many dark nobles studied it. But now, across the entire continent, there were hardly any students majoring in it. It had become the most neglected branch in the magical community.

But Arcane was different.

He had overcome the limitations of dark magic. He had reached an understanding of it so complete, so absolute, that he passed its very essence on to his disciple, Canis.

"Yes, I just need to trust the Master," Canis reminded himself.

No matter what Arcane had in mind, Canis would follow him to the end.

The entrance to the prison blew open.

Arcane stepped into Building A-3, dispatching every guard that charged down the hallway.

Inside the cells, the prisoners, sensing something had happened, were already banging their lunch trays against the bars.

"Hey! I don't know who you are, but get me outta here!"

"Open this damned gate! You've caused enough chaos already—I'll kill someone for you if you let me out!"

Arcane extended both hands.

In this dark, torch-lit corridor, it was the perfect environment for dark magic.

"Power of darkness."

Shadows outside the torchlight crawled to life, forming dozens—hundreds—of shadowy hands that floated in the air. They grabbed hold of the iron bars and began to twist and bend them.

SCREEECH!

"What the hell is that?!"

As the terrified prisoners backed into the corners of their cells, the iron bars lining the hallway were slowly wrenched free.

Silence fell.

Just as photon magic had the theory of light particles, the dark school of magic had the power of darkness—a force that absorbed external energy and turned it into raw, physical strength. With it, one could mold shadows, manipulate mass, even resist the effects of light to some extent.

While its force per square inch wasn't overwhelming, if the area of darkness was vast—as it was here—it multiplied exponentially. Using basic mechanical principles, even something like ripping steel bars became simple.

Eventually, the gates gave way, and prisoners stumbled out, some dragging iron balls still chained to their ankles.

"You a mage? That was... unbelievable."

"Well, thanks, I guess. Name's Kraken. They call me the Night Cat out in the world."

Arcane eyed them with mild pity.

Inferno wasn't always like this, he thought. Forty years ago, this place was crawling with truly dangerous criminals. Now look at it... a bunch of noisy, washed-up braggarts.

Has the world gotten safer... or just dumber?

In Arcane's view, as society became more "civilized," the quality of its criminals plummeted. The real threats now were the clever ones—the manipulators already entrenched in society. These loudmouths? They were just leftovers.

"You pathetic worms. Trying to introduce yourselves like you're in a club? You think you're getting out of here just because there are no bars?"

"What's with this guy? You senile or something? I was just being friendly. Do you even know who I am?"

The prisoners approached, thinking their numbers gave them the upper hand. But it was clear: they lacked both sense and skill.

Arcane narrowed his eyes.

"Listen carefully. If you can't take me down, you're better off staying behind bars. Disobey me, and I'll break your bones."

The prisoners laughed.

"Pfft! This old man's nuts!"

"He thinks we're scared of one mage? Let's just take him down and run!"

High on the taste of freedom, the prisoners rushed forward—

And instantly realized they were still in chains.

They stumbled. Some fell. Reality caught up with them a moment too late.

"W-what?! I can't move!"

As panic set in, Arcane watched, unimpressed.

If you're going to be evil, at least be good at it. Or smart. These idiots are neither.

"Power of darkness."

A black wave rolled out from Arcane, flooding the hallway like liquid night.

"Ugh—! What is this?!"

The same shadowy hands that had torn off the bars now wrapped around the prisoners, one by one, dragging them into the darkness.

Their eyes, mouths, and even screams disappeared, swallowed into a curtain of shadow.

"No! Please—! GAH—!"

Bones snapped.

The ones still standing trembled.

"EEEEK!"

Arin watched in horror as the prisoners vanished, their outlines still faintly visible within the shadow—frozen in agony.

"Canis… do we really have to do this? All of this… just to avenge your master?"

Canis replied coldly.

"Arin, denying the Master is the same as denying us."

"But still…"

"Have you already forgotten what they did to us in Radum? You think these prisoners are any better? Many of them were the ones who tortured us there."

"You promised me… We'd leave Radum behind. That we'd be happy now."

"It's not over yet. Not until the Master's vengeance is fulfilled."

And just like that, the darkness receded.

Crack. Crack.

Arcane looked down at the broken bodies writhing on the floor.

"Pathetic. What a waste of time. Maybe the next cellblock has something better."

There were 320 inmates in Inferno. Perhaps this corridor was just full of weaklings.

Clink. Clank.

A new sound echoed down the hall. Chains—heavy ones.

Arcane turned to see a man slowly stepping out from the farthest cell. He looked like a wolf in human skin.

Arcane's interest sparked.

This one hadn't made a move until now. He hadn't panicked. And he was still wearing shackles and handcuffs.

"You stayed hidden… Your Schema level must be impressive."

The man looked over the fallen prisoners and chuckled darkly.

"Heh… Do you know where you are? This is Western Inferno. A kingdom-designated prison. Are you planning to rebel against the entire kingdom?"

"Treason?" Arcane smirked. "Sounds fun. Want to join me?"

The man shrugged. "You let me out, I'll do anything."

Arcane grinned. "You heard what happened. If you can't take me down, you're not free."

"Tch. What a pain."

The man scratched his head with his shackled hands—then without warning, his body moved like lightning.

Eyes gleaming, he launched forward, dragging a massive iron ball chained to his ankle—and swung it straight at Arcane's face.

BAM!

"Master!" Canis shouted in alarm.

The attacker's face twisted in disbelief.

I just hit someone's face with a ball of iron… and it sounded like that?

He didn't even have to look to know it hadn't worked. As soon as he landed, he stepped back, spat on the floor, and scowled.

"Tch. What an annoying kind of magic…"

Arcane didn't move a muscle. The half of his face struck by the iron ball was now shrouded in shadow.

It was a type of Dark Skin magic—a defensive spell that absorbed impacts through dark energy.

"Not bad," he said calmly. "You pass."

From the ground, a hand made of dark energy rose and grasped the man's chains and shackles.

"Don't move. You might lose a limb."

The shadows holding the iron bindings morphed into blades and began spinning at a dizzying speed.

In a flash, the chains were cut cleanly—but not a single scratch touched the man's skin.

This was the precision of a dark mage—whose magic had to be more delicate than any other.

"Feels good to be free, right? Come with me. I've got work for you."

"Wait… why are you doing this? Weren't you just planning to join up?"

He had seen Arcane's power firsthand, but if he was just going to be dragged around like a pack animal, then what was the point of escaping in the first place?

"You're motivated by money, aren't you? Help me, and you'll earn more than you could ever imagine."

Everyone knew that powerful mages were wealthy.

And for a man willing to do anything for money, there was no reason to hesitate.

"Heh, if the pay's good, I'm in."

An escapee had broken out of Inferno, the prison fortress thought to be unbreakable.