The Game of a Legendary Genius Dark Mage

0.

There were around five deputy commanders in the Rieskan Kingdom’s Intelligence Knights. Of those, three were in charge of intel operations, while only two handled actual fieldwork.

One of them was Haldrin.

The other—Marco—was a loyal subordinate of Gurst.

Marco had separated from Haldrin to track down the traces of the Galaxy Sword Dance, but even in Nocturne, where its trail had supposedly surfaced, he was struggling to find anything solid.

He simply couldn’t understand how it could be this difficult to find even a faint trace.

“This isn’t easy.”

While he continued to coordinate with Haldrin, Marco began to feel an odd sense of unease when the connection suddenly dropped.

What could possibly be happening to cut off communications?

Compared to Marco’s situation, Haldrin didn’t have any obvious variables to worry about—so it was even stranger.

Marco was operating in Nocturne, after all.

A place governed by Overpalace’s Nocturne himself—an almost legendary figure.

This Nocturne had records dating back centuries. There was no way working in his territory didn’t come with serious risk.

Haldrin, on the other hand, had no such dangerous variables.

What could possibly be in the Masked Lord’s Tomb?

At most, it was just a bunch of reconnaissance teams exploring the surrounding area.

Even so, with communication cut off, Marco furrowed his brow, a creeping sense of dread forming in his gut.

“Should I head over there?”

He hadn’t yet reported this to Gurst, their unit commander—but given the circumstances, it felt more reasonable than chasing after a vanishing trace here.

Just as he was about to act—

He attempted to open the comms device to report to Gurst, but suddenly noticed something odd—a strange ripple of darkness squirming at the edge of his vision.

He snapped his head toward it.

There was nothing.

“...There’s definitely something here.”

But Marco wasn’t a fool.

He had definitely sensed movement. Even if it vanished, that ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) didn’t mean the threat had disappeared.

He swiftly drew his blade, preparing to act—only for a sudden, chilling thought to creep into his mind.

“This... this feels like an illusion.”

The ground seemed to ripple.

He realized he had fallen into what was commonly called an illusion technique.

Recognizing this, horrifyingly grotesque hands began crawling out of the floor around him. Despite having had his emotions stripped away, he found himself experiencing fear.

He also noticed—his subordinates were gone.

No one else was here.

Fully aware that he was trapped in a hallucination, Marco drew a dagger from his belt and immediately stabbed himself in the neck.

Shluk—!!!

Splattt—!!!

Delivering a strong shock to the body was the best way to break out of illusion techniques.

He smiled faintly, preparing to awaken—

But the blood sprayed from his throat, and the light slowly faded from Marco’s eyes.

As the life drained from him and he collapsed—

A black, nightmarish figure emerged before the corpse.

It was Nocturne, the very lord of the city of Nocturne. He smiled faintly and muttered to himself.

”Ah... yes. There are always some who mistake reality for a dream and act recklessly.”

Still smiling, Nocturne made a slow gesture above Marco’s corpse, like a magician performing a trick.

Marco’s body and the pool of blood vanished without a trace.

As if it had all been a dream.

Nocturne casually exited the scene, murmuring,

”I hope this was of some help to my master.”

Behind him, not only Marco but also dozens of Intelligence Knights were silently suspended—then vanished with him.

And among them was Gurst himself.

The nightmare-like figure of Nocturne disappeared completely without a trace.

As did the entire Intelligence Knights unit.

1.

Seong and his party opened the door to go deeper down.

But unlike previous rooms where the space had simply shifted, this time the floor itself opened to reveal a stairway—prompting strange looks from the group.

What could be on the fourth basement level for it to be designed like this?

Following the instructions on the stone tablet, everyone donned a mask and descended the stairs.

The map showed a 3D cube layout. Like the floors above, the fourth basement level also had 16 grid-based spaces. The coordinates they descended into were the 2×2 block—same as their previous position.

The deeper they went, the more it felt like this floor was... different.

Descending the spiral staircase, torches mounted along the walls began lighting up one by one, creating an eerie atmosphere.

”Hmm... definitely creepy.”

”Stay sharp. We don’t know what might jump out.”

Everyone remained alert—except for Seong, who walked down casually in the lead.

His vassals followed behind him without hesitation, and the investigation team trailed behind them.

As they went down step by step, Seong began to sense a strange energy.

So did his vassals.

”Hmm? That one’s pretty strong.”

– It won’t be a problem for His Majesty, of course.

”Of course not.”

– Y-Yeah, obviously!

Scratching his head a bit sheepishly, Seong could still feel it—this was undeniably strong.

It was significantly more powerful than the Intelligence Knights they had just fought.

He smiled in anticipation as they descended.

Eventually, they arrived at what looked unmistakably like a stage.

Just as the stone tablet had described.

Everyone looked around, intrigued by the stage-like setting. Even the viewers were filled with curiosity.

“Damn, this place has a killer vibe.”

“Fr fr;;”

“LMAO, something’s def gonna pop out here.”

“Wait—there’s something in the center?”

“Yo, you’re right;;;;”

“What is it?”

As the viewers speculated, several members of the investigation team noticed it too.

Something stood at the center of the stage.

And when the whole party stepped onto the stage—

A spotlight suddenly lit up the center.

Revealing what it was.

“A puppet, huh. Just as I thought.”

It was the same kind of mask-wearing puppet they had encountered before.

The difference?

Unlike the others, this one shimmered as if it were made of gold. And its mask—was completely blank.

Curious what kind of mask it might be, Seong stared at it—

And then a system message popped up in the air.

[There are currently 13 masks present in the tomb’s depths.]

[Power is being transferred to the mask on stage.]

As soon as that appeared, the investigation team all turned to Seong with guilty expressions.

With so many people here, the difficulty had scaled proportionally.

In other words, the more people relying on Seong, the more burden was placed on him—which made them feel sorry.

But what they didn’t know was:

“This is great.”

Seong, who had been feeling bored due to how easy everything had been so far, was genuinely excited.

He began drawing forth the full might of Blood Lord.

He had already tested Veladrina’s powers, but hadn’t yet unleashed the entirety of Blood Lord.

He smiled in anticipation, and as if in response, the puppet at the center began to transform.

Click. Clack. Creakkk.

With grotesque noises, the puppet’s body began to morph.

It wasn’t just mechanical anymore—its structure softened and gradually took on the form of real flesh.

Seong waited quietly, watching.

As the body finished forming, something began to etch itself onto the previously blank mask.

Those watching muttered in confusion:

“Cloud?”

“Mist?”

“What is that? Some kind of gas?”

The swirling pattern was a mix of dark and purple hues—almost like a storm cloud. But Seong, looking at the puppet, could tell immediately.

It was wearing the attire of a noble—refined and dignified—and it placed one hand over its chest in an elegant bow.

Seeing that, Seong couldn’t help but think of someone he’d encountered before entering this place:

“Nocturne?”

As if to confirm that, pink mist began to billow from the puppet’s body like fog, spreading across the stage.

And Seong instinctively understood what that mist was.

Dreams.

One of the powers Nocturne wielded, as the ruler of the night.

Realizing it instantly, Seong called forth Blood Lord’s might and shredded the mist apart.

At the same time, he summoned dozens of minuscule blood droplets and scattered them throughout the area, staining the pink fog crimson.

But then—

Fwoooosh—!!!

The pink mist erupted in flames, burning away the scattered blood droplets entirely.

The scent of blood filled the air as his blood evaporated—yet from the blood vapor, Seong extracted the remaining iron particles and reshaped them into blades that sliced through the flame.

The pink mist then reformed and returned to the puppet’s hand.

Blood—the mask from the third floor.

Dream—the mask from the fourth basement.

It was clear which was meant to be superior.

But Seong just grinned, amused.

Meanwhile, the viewers and the investigation team were all frozen in place, utterly lost.

“??????”

“What just happened?”

“It looked like they attacked each other???”

“?? What the hell???”

Seeing their dazed expressions, Veladrina looked at them and explained with an air of exasperation:

– You blind fools. His Majesty blocked the spreading dream with blood. In response, the dream turned to flame and evaporated the blood. But from the evaporated blood, His Majesty extracted iron, shaped it into blades, and cut through the fire—sending it back to the puppet.

“That—That’s what happened?!”

“N-No way that all happened in just a second?!”

The investigators stared, dumbfounded, realizing they were witnessing a battle on a completely different scale.

The viewers, too, were grateful for the explanation.

“Thank you, Demon King Vassal Wikia!”

“Wow she actually explained it LOL”

“She’s way nicer than she looks hahaha”

“Oh? They’re fighting again!”

“WTF what was that just now?!”

Something else had clearly just happened—but they couldn’t make sense of it again, so they all turned instinctively toward Veladrina.

She sighed, clearly annoyed.

– Useless things. His Majesty launched another blood-based attack, which the enemy transformed into a dream and erased. So His Majesty simply charged in directly.

It almost felt like a live commentary now—but no one dared complain.

They knew full well: one wrong word and she might never explain again.