Chapter 452: New Continent

[Black Cube]

In the midst of the crowd, Oliver recited an incantation, cupping his hands.

The emotions extracted from the test capsule surged swiftly and delicately, wrapping around the corpse doll on all six sides, creating a black barrier.

It was the Black Shield, a basic dark magic, isolating the corpse doll within the crowd, causing it to explode.

Boom━━━!!!

A dull explosion sound echoed across the harbor, even during midday lunch hours.

The horrific sound of the explosion, along with the tremor of the ground, startled those nearby. Many fell on their backsides or froze in place.

A middle-aged gentleman in a silk hat, a young man in a shabby jacket, a solitary boy, and a man with his wife and child—all reacted the same in that moment.

It was only natural. Had Oliver not intercepted in time, most of the passengers would have died or been seriously injured.

Thankfully, the Black Cube prevented such a catastrophe.

As the explosion subsided, the Black Cube vanished, instantly dissipating. The black smoke typical of dark magic slowly rose into the sky.

Everyone at the scene, who had been frantically moving moments earlier, was now frozen, silently watching the smoke rise. Slowly, they turned their heads toward Oliver.

Countless eyes were fixed on him.

Feeling the need to say something, Oliver opened his mouth.

“Um… Is everyone alright?”

Then someone responded—not with words but with a scream.

“He-He’s a dark wizard! A dark wizard!!”

“Call the police! Damn it, call the police!”

“Aaaaah! A dark wizard!!”

“Aaaaaah!!”

People reacted even more violently than during the explosion, fleeing in all directions.

Only then did Oliver realize his mistake and slapped his palm to his forehead.

“Oh, right… Dark wizards have always been seen this way.”

As this seemingly obvious fact dawned on him, Oliver muttered.

***

A dark wizard.

A being formed by those who couldn’t wield magic and tried to find a way to use it.

The problem lay in the method, which didn’t use pure magic but rather harnessed emotions, life force, and even the bodies of humans as materials.

Naturally, dark wizards were seen in a negative light by society, and it wasn’t hard to understand why.

After all, they used people as their key resource.

Moreover, because the materials were consumed rapidly and had gruesome side effects, dark wizards were even more reviled for using others rather than themselves.

‘Also, most dark wizard apprentices come from the lower strata of society, making them more prone to crime-driven motivations. This just makes things worse… But still, this reaction is beyond my expectations,’ Oliver thought.

He observed the crowd trying desperately to get away from him.

Screams were commonplace, some even called for the police, and a few abandoned their children to escape.

‘Hmm… This is a really big problem.’

Seeing how the situation had spiraled out of control, Oliver reflected. He never imagined such an intense reaction just by reflexively using dark magic.

Back in Randa’s back alleys, using dark magic wouldn’t have been an issue, so he judged the situation too carelessly. Using dark magic in broad daylight, at a city harbor, and in front of so many people—it was evidently his fault.

Yet, part of him felt the reaction was excessive, considering he had only done it to prevent the self-exploding corpse doll.

‘Hmm… Then again, this might be natural. After all, First Step has suffered greatly at the hands of dark magic. So, what should I do now?’

Despite the chaos surrounding him, Oliver calmly pondered his next move.

Walking away as if nothing had happened seemed unwise, given the current situation.

Likewise, fleeing the scene swiftly wasn’t a smart plan either. It would make him look too suspicious, possibly leading to real police or templar pursuit.

On the New Continent’s First Step, dark wizards, known as the Red Ones, roamed freely, which led to a strong templar presence. If they chased him, it would be a severe problem.

‘But why are those people staring at me like that?’

Standing perfectly still, Oliver noticed that various individuals were observing him closely. There was a group of magic users, mages, a young dark wizard with five female corpse dolls, a druid-looking man possibly from Enjoyment, and the middle-aged man in the silk hat, who was standing right next to the recently exploded corpse doll.

Most of them were clearly skilled individuals, with the silk-hatted man being the only odd one out, appearing wealthy but not particularly notable otherwise. Nevertheless, he watched Oliver with intense interest.

‘Compared to them, everyone else seems to be warily watching me… for some specific reason. What’s going on?’

Oliver’s contemplation extended due to the unexpected reactions from the crowd and the unusual tension from the superhumans. Before he could decide on his next move, the police swarmed the scene.

Whistle–! Whistle–! Whistle–!

Four officers, wearing uniforms and armed with machine guns, blew their whistles as they surrounded Oliver, pointing their weapons at him.

“Hands up! Hands up!”

“Don’t move! Move and we’ll shoot!”

“The Templar is here too, so don’t even think about resisting!”

The officers weren’t lying.

Through the sea of people struggling to distance themselves from Oliver, a templar appeared, clad in iron armor with a longsword.

The templar was relatively young, accompanied by two heavily armed servants, one carrying a shotgun and the other a large shield.

It seemed First Step had a significant templar presence, which Oliver confirmed immediately by raising his hands to show he had no intention of resisting.

He didn’t want to escalate the situation and, most importantly, believed that a clear explanation would suffice.

If he explained that he was forced to use dark magic to prevent the explosion, they would surely understand.

With that judgment, Oliver began explaining to the templar with the longsword about what had happened. He emphasized that he had no intention of causing a commotion or harming anyone.

After hearing Oliver out, the templar responded.

“You expect me to believe that nonsense?”

***

Nonsense. The templar stated firmly, disbelief evident in his expression.

Oliver wondered if his explanation had been lacking and tried to elaborate with gestures, but the officers stopped him from moving.

Though slightly disappointed, Oliver wasn’t too surprised. Judging by the templar’s emotions, it seemed he was unwilling to trust Oliver, no matter how much he explained.

It wasn’t a matter of logic. The templar’s mistrust wasn’t rooted in reason but in his emotions. After all—

“—How could I trust the words of a dark wizard? Enough of this nonsense, stretch out your hands. We can talk more after you’re detained.”

The templar drew out a heavy chain imbued with Holy Power, ready to shackle Oliver.

The weighted ends suggested it could be swung or thrown if necessary.

As Oliver hesitated between complying or fleeing, someone unexpectedly intervened.

It was none other than the middle-aged man in the silk hat, who had been calmly observing Oliver despite the chaos.

He spoke up.

“Excuse me, Templar. But what he says is true.”

The templar frowned and turned to him, and the surrounding crowd began murmuring.

After all, it was sheer madness to intercede when a templar was about to arrest a dark wizard.

“…And who might you be, sir?”

The templar narrowed his eyes as he questioned, and Oliver, still with his hands up, looked towards the silk-hatted man.

Unfazed by the templar’s scowl, the man calmly introduced himself, displaying the courage he had shown by not fleeing.

“Ah, pardon me. My name is Sean Redmond. I’m here on business at First Step. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“…Sean Redmond. As a templar, I must ask, are you defending this dark wizard?”

Skipping formalities and even omitting his own name, the templar immediately applied pressure to Redmond, treating him as an annoying interference.

Yet, Redmond was no pushover.

Despite the templar’s sharp tone, Redmond kept his composure and maintained his courtesy, continuing to speak.

“Oh, absolutely not, Templar. Not at all… I’m merely confirming that the dark wizard did indeed use magic to stop the self-exploding corpse doll. I was right next to him. The fact there are no traces of the explosion or injuries, aside from those trampled in the chaos, proves it.”

Oliver felt grateful for Sean Redmond’s sudden support but was curious about why he was helping.

The first reason was that aiding a dark wizard was a dangerously risky act by itself. The second reason was Redmond’s emotional state.

His emotions weren’t purely altruistic. He had a strong sense of purpose.

The fact that he desired something from Oliver was evident in his emotions.

However, the templar was unmoved by Redmond’s intentions and spoke.

“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter. Mr. Redmond. Arresting a dark wizard with no clear identity is our templar’s duty. I kindly advise you to step aside. If you persist, I may have to suspect you have some connection with him.”

His words were not an empty threat. Redmond hesitated slightly.

Indeed, templars were formidable. Even in the industrial era, where their influence had waned, when dealing with demons and dark wizards, their authority remained absolute.

Regardless, Oliver felt grateful to Redmond. He had already gone above and beyond.

“Would it be acceptable if I could prove my identity?”

Oliver suddenly asked, his voice unexpectedly calm, almost indifferent, as if he were helping someone else.

Because of that, even though his voice wasn’t loud, it drew everyone’s attention.

“You see, I’m employed by the Tower of Magic… May I lower my hands for a moment?”

At Oliver’s question, those around him started murmuring again.

Claiming to be an employee of the Tower of Magic implied he was an elite mage.

Oliver realized it was fortunate that he had become part of the Tower of Magic.

The templar, observing the murmurs, told him to show proof, and as soon as permission was granted, Oliver pulled out his identification as a Tower of Magic employee and handed it to the templar.

The crowd’s murmuring intensified, and the police and templar showed visible surprise.

The silk-hatted Redmond also displayed a ‘I knew it’ expression, while the magic user, mages, druid, and dark wizard observing him from earlier also showed interest.

Everything seemed confusing… Honestly, it wasn’t the ideal situation. The original plan was to quietly meet Joanna, but now it had become far too noisy.

“Unbelievable. A mage using dark magic? How does that even make sense?”

“Ah, if it’s about that, it might take a bit of explaining—”

“—Perfect. Then, come with us.”

“Huh?”

“You said explanations were necessary. Then, let’s hear it. Besides, an ID like that can be easily forged, so it needs further verification.”

“Uh, that’s not exactly the case.”

Oliver corrected the templar, drawing out his stored mana and directing it towards his ID.

The ID responded to his mana, projecting a certain pattern and numbers into the air.

Security magic designed to prevent counterfeit ID. The templar recognized it, visibly flustered.

“…Are you here on Tower of Magic business?”

“No, I’m here for personal reasons.”

“What kind of personal reasons?”

“Well, that’s—”

Just as Oliver was about to answer, he felt the words get stuck in his throat.

If he mentioned he came all the way from Randa by ship just to see Templar Joanna, it might sound strange. It could even cause problems for Joanna.

Oliver hesitated to come up with a convincing lie, letting out a small ‘hmm’ sound.

“Hmm…”

It was too late to claim he was here for Tower of Magic business, and it wasn’t a believable excuse since they could potentially investigate. Saying he was here for sightseeing wouldn’t be convincing based on the templar’s emotions.

While Oliver hesitated, the templar’s suspicion and hostility reached their peak, seemingly ready to resort to force to take him in, but at that moment, a loud car horn blared.

From somewhere within the crowd.

Baaaaa-baaa-baaa!!!

Soon, the sound was confirmed as a luxury car with a thick bonnet pushed its way through the onlookers.

“Ooof! Ouch!!”

“Arrgh!!”

“What, what? Damn!”

“Don’t push! Don’t step on me!!”

“My leg! My leg…!!”

The crowd, hit by the car and suffering minor and major injuries, cried out in a chorus of screams.

The templar and his servants were taken aback by this dramatic entrance, and from the backseat of the car, a fat man suddenly jumped out.

It was Edith.

Edith, the self-made icon of Randa and also Jane’s biological father.

He looked at Oliver and said.

“Hah! I heard you were scrawny, but it’s worse than I thought. Are you even getting enough to eat?”

“Greetings, Mr. Edith. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”