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Chapter 9
“Kyaaaah!”
Lizel let out a horrific scream. Divine power and magic are sometimes referred to as sources of the mind—because they stem from a creature’s mental strength and will. The stronger one’s will and mental fortitude, the stronger and more manageable that power becomes.
Aris directly poured his own magic into Lizel’s brain, shaking her mental strength to its core. It was a battle of wills. His brown eyes, which had remained unchanged until now, glowed a vivid blue. Sparks of blue crackled every time his overflowing magic clashed with the elemental spirits of nature.
And with each clash, Aris’s hair gradually darkened. He narrowed his eyes. If he used any more magic, he’d inevitably expose his true appearance. As he debated what to do, Aris pushed the output of his magic even further. At the same time, his clothes ripped apart, and a pair of black wings burst explosively from his back.
Lukam’s eyes widened in shock.
“B-Black Wings?!”
He stammered uselessly, making pathetic noises before finally managing to shout, forcing the words from his throat.
“How are the Black Wings here…?! What in the…! Oh, Goddess of Frost!”
Aris turned his glowing blue eyes toward Lukam and gave a crooked smile as if amused by the scene.
“What, when you heard a Derkayd was here, did you not consider the possibility it might be me? Really? I may have wandered for two years, but I stayed within Myren the entire time. I figured word had spread to the point even dogs and cows would know I was here. Guess the Frost Order’s rumor mill is slower than I thought? You were curious what color my wings were, right? Well, here they are. Satisfied? Still think you can take me on?”
He let Lizel’s unconscious body drop carelessly to the floor. Lukam, having lost half his fighting spirit, collapsed where he stood. What he faced now was no ordinary foe—it was a calamity. To face this man alone—or even with all the knights here—would be suicide.
Suicide. The thought of the word alone made Lukam tremble. It dawned on him far too late who he had tried to oppose. Terror surged over him. The arrogance and false courage he’d once worn like armor had long since deserted him.
Lukam was one of the few who had witnessed firsthand what the Black Wings had done five years ago. To him, they were the embodiment of evil—an absolute threat. But he also knew that from his position, reaching their level was utterly impossible.
“You’re the only one who’s seen my wings. You should be thanking Mirea.”
Aris slowly raised his sword toward the paralyzed Lukam, who now looked like a mouse before a tiger.
“I’ll only kill you. The rest of your knights can keep their lives.”
“H-Hiiik…!”
Lukam staggered backward, unable to even mount a proper resistance, and collapsed, blood spurting from his neck. His red blood splattered across the white marble statue of the Frost Goddess behind him.
Aris’s magic became entangled with Lizel’s divine power. At that moment, the barrier shattered, and divine energy began to disperse. Mirea had asked him to give her a signal—but the sheer magic released when his wings unfolded was more than enough. Anyone with even a basic understanding would recognize such an explosive force.
Aris glanced at the bloodstained marble statue and quickly strode out of the temple.
As expected, Mirea had recognized the burst of power as the signal. But she was still busy fending off charging holy knights and couldn’t even get near the tower. From Aris’s point of view, she was already late.
“That idiot… acting all confident…”
But then Mirea kicked off the ground and launched herself into the air, using the roof of a nearby building as a stepping stone to leap again. She was so fast and so high it was nearly impossible to follow her movements with the naked eye. Everywhere her feet touched left deep indentations.
Aris, seeing the magic dispersing from her boots, guessed she was using a magically inscribed artifact that had stored up energy beforehand. The moment the anti-magic barrier broke and her magic was usable again, she had activated it without hesitation.
Even with magical aid, such agile movement required extraordinary reflexes and keen eyesight. Judging by her previous actions, where she had relied solely on herself, Aris wasn’t exactly surprised anymore.
In an instant, Mirea soared upward and yanked a pin from the mechanism controlling a large crossbow. The scattered divine energy was absorbed into the device’s core. What Aris hadn’t anticipated was that not only divine power—but his own magic—was also being drawn in.
In hindsight, it was obvious. He had broken the barrier by mixing his magic into Lizel’s divine power. So naturally, part of his energy became connected to that flow. Though he cut off his magic quickly, a considerable amount had already been drained from his body.
“Well then, let’s see how well this thing works.”
Just before plummeting, Mirea aimed at the truck she had ridden in and fired. A massive fusion of divine power and magic struck the truck, triggering a complex array of magical formulas. And it wasn’t just one. From the truck at the center, multiple spells branched outward like a spiderweb, stretching over the entire village and even reaching the monster-infested forest.
“So that’s the ‘important cargo’ she mentioned.”
Aris furrowed his brows, trying to grasp what was going on—until he caught sight of Mirea. She was getting caught in the vortex of swirling spells, magic, and divine power high above—seconds away from being violently thrown aside. Below her, there wasn’t even a proper place to land safely.
Just as she realized this, her face tensed—only to feel something solid catching her mid-air.
“You really are fearless, huh? Reckless to the point of stupidity!”
Before she could even take in what happened, Aris’s scolding poured down from above her head.
“For heaven’s sake! Do you even think before you act?! Do you have nine lives or something? You trying to get yourself killed?!”
Mirea glanced between Aris—who held her in his arms, black wings spread wide—and the ground below. She quickly looped one arm around his neck, clinging to him, while her other hand clutched her thundering chest, gasping for breath.
“I-I almost died! This time I really almost died!”
Aris, effortlessly holding her in his arms, let out another flustered groan.
“Are you even aware of that?! Because you sure don’t act like it!”
But Mirea, clearly more concerned about something else, shouted in his ear.
“No—your wings! You idiot, why would you reveal your wings?! I’ve been doing all this to hide your identity, and now the paladins have seen everything!”
“Don’t worry. It’s still dark—they probably didn’t get a clear look.”
Mirea relaxed a little, looked at Aris’s face, and changed the subject.
“You’re back to your original appearance.”
His striking blue eyes pierced into her olive-colored gaze.
“I had no choice. Once I released my magic externally, the spell that changed my hair and eye color unraveled.”
“So that was magic?”
Transformation magic, especially on oneself, is notoriously hard to manage. Maintaining it for long durations is nearly impossible. That’s why Mirea hadn’t immediately recognized Aris as the infamous Black Wings. She had assumed maybe he dyed his hair—but changing eye color too?
She’d seen a picture before and roughly remembered his features, but over the five years, he’d grown out of his boyish looks. Back in his teens, he had a softer, almost pretty face.
Now, under the alias Aris Kleinsherd, he was 22. A man with black hair, blue eyes, and delicate features that still retained a youthful elegance, giving him the charm of a refined and composed young man.
The brown-haired, brown-eyed man who had previously looked so plain now revealed his true self—casting off the clueless mask he had worn—and his aura shifted completely.
Mirea tilted her head, studying his face. The sky in the distance began to lighten. Over the ridgeline, the morning sun peeked through. As its light reflected in Aris’s blue eyes, Mirea was reminded of sunlight sparkling across ocean waves. The wind ruffled both their hair as it passed by.
Aris didn’t descend immediately. He hovered in place with gentle wingbeats.
“Since I was using my magic to keep my appearance altered, that priestess probably noticed I was channeling energy internally. That must’ve given me away.”
At her guess, Aris clicked his tongue. Mirea just mocked him.
“Your alias was fishy from the start. That was the best you could come up with?”
“And what about the guy who marched into a near-dead village with just a sword, cutting through a forest full of monsters? Isn’t that suspicious? Besides, I’ve got a mixed-race look, so it’s hard to fully disguise myself. Better to look a bit suspicious from the start. People around here all have their baggage from the civil war—standing out a little doesn’t even make the top ten. If you want to hide a tree, hide it in a forest.”
“Oh, pardon me, Your Majesty. I failed to grasp the depths of your brilliance…”
Aris quickly covered her mouth.
“Enough… Can you at least explain what’s going on here? You used my magic without even asking! Who said you could? My magic and divine power are… What the hell is that?!”
He couldn’t hide his alarm as he stared at the massive, sprawling magical formula—interwoven with both magic and divine power—stretching outward like a web in the sky.
