Dark Magician Isekai: Return and make Fantasy World into a VR Game

Indahl was an ancient city that had stood in the southern part of the Rhine Kingdom for hundreds of years.

Situated at the crucial crossroads of the southeastern Navalon continent, the constant flow of trade caravans brought unprecedented business opportunities to this city, which became the envy of others in the vicinity.

Every day, large quantities of goods were brought in and traded in the marketplace—goods such as textiles and spices from the north, various novel mechanical inventions, alchemical materials made from magic dust and minerals from the south, as well as bulk grains from the east. Relying solely on the 11% tax collected by the Taxation Office from merchants, the city lord of Indahl had enough funds to maintain a city defense force of 1,200 professional soldiers.

In the Rhine Kingdom, a force of 1,200 fully employed professional soldiers constituted a substantial military might. Over the past century, Indahl had never suffered the banditry commonly encountered by all border cities. The city defense force played a crucial role in this achievement.

It was precisely because of this that the Bartalis family's hold on the Indahl city lord position had always been so firm. No matter how capable or well-connected the consuls (mayor) sent by the throne were, the highest authority of Indahl was never affected.

Of course, the Bartalis family wasn't in the good graces of the throne, being a feudal lord that dared keep a large amount of merchant tax to raise troops instead of obediently handing them over to the royal treasury. The size of the Indahl's established territory and its citizens could be considered a county, but the throne had always suppressed the Bartalis family's title to the level of a viscount. Regardless of how much influence the Bartalis family could hold sway in the capital, the throne refused to promote their rank.

Such discord between the throne and local nobility was quite commonplace in this world, and Viscount Bartalis didn't seem out of line among the Rhine nobles—though it was rather embarrassing for him not being able to take a count's seat at each New Year's cocktail party held at the palace.

But at least, in Indahl's territory, this viscount was still the one and only "king."

"So, Count Odysse's nephew's servant, escorted by a group of WeIsshem militiamen, fled to the city to report a crime, claiming that Count Odysse's nephew was attacked by a group of… reanimated skeletons? In Weisshem?"

The fat, well-maintained face of the current Viscount Bartalis, Adra the Third, revealed a look of skepticism as he glared at the sheriff.

"That servant reported Count Odysse's name and showed us a gold-embossed envelope with the Odysse family seal… I think that should be the case.

"Aside from that, the militiamen of Weisshem also said the same thing. They claimed that many undead attacked Weisshem in the wee hours of this morning," said the sheriff nervously.

Country folk were afraid of the resurrected dead, but as long as one had a little understanding of dark arts, they would know that the undead were just dead creatures that didn't have a soul or intelligence.

Those attacked by the undead weren't suffering retribution because of bad karma. Instead, it was black mages that were behind it.

There was also something else strange… A high-level black mage, who could control an undead army, had mobilized a large number to attack the town in order to kidnap the nephew of a count?

This sheriff would still find it feasible if it were a mercenary group that was short of money and kidnapped this unfortunate fellow. A high-level black mage who could command a large number of the undead to concurrently assault a town… That was indeed rather unbelievable. It was even more laughable than a heavy-armored knight riding a prized steed into a goatherd's house to steal black bread.

The unfortunate fellow didn't even have a decent-sized guard and merely traveled with a few servants. He definitely wasn't a nephew who had the right to inherit. Every count family would easily have a few hundred nephews just like that.

Given the sheriff's experience, he was more inclined to believe that the count's nephew was caught up with some unseemly reason that involved Weisshem's militia. And these fellows had concocted a massive lie to save the count's nephew as soon as possible…

The corner of Adra III's mouth twitched, showing clear displeasure.

This displeasure had nothing to do with the loyal servant who had run for his master's life (a servant who lied to save his master was moral in the eyes of the nobles) but because the town of Weisshem had just made him lose face.

A day earlier, Weisshem had sold out a proprietor whose backer had lost power, tacitly acknowledging the new owner who had forcefully taken over the business that had been running for years.

Usually, this sort of thing was nothing out of the ordinary, just that people of the Radiant Sun Church had seen the entire thing when it happened, leading those arrogant Kenyans to question Adra III's ability to control the territory of Indahl. And this had made him very unhappy.

Just yesterday, the people from the Radiant Sun Church had just come to the city lord's mansion to mock the security issues of Indahl territory. If they were to hear that something happened at Weisshem again today, it would only be natural for Adra III to be livid.

"What the hell is going on?" Adra III demanded unhappily.

"I was just about to ask you if we should get the City Defense Force to dispatch some men to Weisshem to take a look?" The sheriff didn't dare admit he wasn't confident and quickly tossed the ball out of his court.

Weisshem wasn't far away from Indahl, a 60-kilometer journey on the main road. The City Defence Force could move out and arrive by late afternoon.

Adra III did not respond immediately. Instead, he stroked the neatly trimmed mustache on his upper lip with his chubby fingers. After pondering for a bit, he mused, "Speaking of which, that Radiant Sun Church's cavalry regiment came to the Southern Territory to hunt down the 'Nightmare Butcher.'" After another pause, Adra III said expressionlessly, "Send someone to inform the Radiant Sun Church that the Nightmare Butcher they're chasing is suspected to have appeared in Weisshem and even attacked the nephew of a count."

The Radiant Sun Church loved chasing black mages, so it was fine if they went. As for whether the person who attacked Weisshem and kidnapped the count's nephew was really a black mage or if it was truly the legendary Nightmare Butcher… Adra III did not care. He would use the term "suspected," and even if it turns out to be a false alarm, it wouldn't have anything to do with him.

The sheriff hesitated. He wanted to say that Weisshem was a town under Indahl's jurisdiction… but when he realized that Adra III was glaring at him, he quickly bowed and answered, "Yes, my lord."

After leaving the city lord's manor, the sheriff sent someone to make a report to the Radiant Sun Church.

—Third, you're too willful. This lament was something the sheriff didn't even dare tell his wife, and he could only hide it deep down.

Adra III, who grew up in the capital, didn't like Indahl.

He hated squatting in "the countryside" to deal with trivial matters for a long period. He always talked about the prosperity and dignity of the imperial capital and yearned to return to the true core of the Rhine Kingdom's wealth and power.

This made the sheriff, who had once served his predecessor, Adra II, feel both disappointed and frustrated. Without Indahl as his backing, if not for this prosperous territory and strong army capable of resisting border marauders, what did the prosperity, dignity, power, and honor of the imperial capital have to do with Adra III, who only had the title of viscount?

Holding the position of only a sheriff, he naturally didn't dare to advise his city lord. He had no doubt that he would be removed from his position and driven back to the countryside to retire if he dared expose the inflated vanity of Adra III.

Elsewhere, after receiving news from officers of the sheriff's office, the white-robed priest of the local Radiant Sun Church and the commander of the Inquisition's cavalry regiment exchanged a glance.

"What is this city lord planning?" the commander muttered with a frown. "There was no mention of anything about a black mage when my men returned from Weisshem yesterday."

After a momentary pause, the captain, who had seen many despicable nobles in the countryside, said, "Could it be that Weisshem refused to obey that fat pig of a city lord, so this damn fellow wants to make use of our power to settle the issue?"

The white-robed priest was also a little hesitant. He had been in Indahl for over a decade and, with his understanding of the short-sighted and foolish Adra III, the fat pig of a city lord was more than capable of doing such a thing.

A brief pause later, the white-robed priest suggested, "Send two teams to take a look. No matter what the Adra III is up to, we must continue to investigate the whereabouts of the Nightmare Butcher."

The commander contemplated, then stood up and said, "I'll take some men there myself. Weisshem is close to Sorenson. Perhaps we can really get news about the Nightmare Butcher there."

The cavalry regiment had been resting in Indahl for several days and had already lost interest in this small inland city that wasn't good for much other than business. The commander asked for his men to volunteer and quickly formed two teams to leave the city.

As always, the road at the city gate was congested—merchants coming and going to sell their wares, trading caravans arguing endlessly with the city gate officials over the taxes on goods, farmers doing odd jobs, and commoners coming to visit their relatives… Even the Inquisition's cavalry regiment, leading tall horses and decked out in standard armor of the Radiant Sun Church, had to squeeze along as well.

After finally leaving the city, the commander ordered everyone to get on their mounts and set off—

Then, the captain slipped his foot on the stirrup and almost went under his steed's belly.

The others weren't in any mood to snicker at their leader's display of a lack of composure. All of them were staring in the same direction with their mouths agape…

Not too far from these church knights, among the long line of people waiting to enter the city… were two men.

These two were riding ordinary horses of barely passable quality. Both were in long robes and hooded cloaks.

The two men, who were waiting to enter the city, queuing up behind a caravan, had been talking in low voices. When they saw the conspicuous church knights, they naturally looked over.

One of them… even smiled at the knights of the Radiant Sun Church as if he had seen an old acquaintance.

"Isn't this Commander Walton? It's been quite a while."

Commander Walton held onto the saddle to steady himself and stared at the other party with his mouth agape.

Lustrous shoulder-length hair, a rosy face full of energy, and a chin shaved so cleanly that not a single stubble could be seen… The robe beneath the cloak was also clean, with only a little dust from the journey.

Which part of this bastard black mage seemed like he was in a miserable state and on the run?

Had this guy even been fleeing?? That couldn't be right!

Why could he appear so brazenly over here?

Commander Walton snapped back to his senses and immediately reached for his waist.

Yang Qiu, atop his horse, didn't budge and looked at him calmly.

Indeed, Commander Walton did not draw his sword, nor did he immediately order the soldiers to encircle and annihilate the bastard black mage that the Radiant Sun Church had been pursuing for several decades.

This was a crowded city gate!

Besieging a black mage here would definitely result in a large number of casualties regardless of whether they could successfully capture him or not!

Commander Walton did not care how many non-Kenyan citizens died, but the city lord of Indahl definitely would. Regardless of how stupid and short-sighted that fat pig of a city lord was, he would never let Commander Walton off should that happen.

A livid Commander Walton gestured to his squad, gripped the hilt of his sword, reared his mount, and led them forward toward Yang Qiu.

"Is this a welcome ceremony? What incredible hostility." Yang Qiu remained unmoved and even smiled. "In that case, I'll reluctantly allow you to escort me, Commander Walton."

Having said that, he called out to his traveling companion, and the two pulled their reins, leading the horses out of the line into the city, and voluntarily entered the calvary's formation.

Commander Walton's expression turned even uglier.

"What are you up to?"

"As you can see, entering the city." Yang Qiu shrugged. "Turn your horses around. Regardless of what travel plans you might have, follow me into the city first."

Commander Walton: "…"

The Radiant Sun knights: "…"

"What exactly are you trying to do?!" Commander Walton's face was nearly contorting.

Yang Qiu glanced at him and urged his horse to the side of the regiment's commander. With a smile, he said, "Sparing your life… of course.

"I was the last person seen alive by many cavalry regiment commanders. Do you know how many there were?"

"Yang," Lowell called out helplessly to stop this guy's crazy provocation.

Yang Qiu smiled and nodded at Inspector Lowell before turning back to Commander Walton. "My companion doesn't like the way I speak. Let me put it in another way… You're still young, Walton, and haven't yet gotten a chance to learn other ways to deal with things. You shouldn't be so stiff compared to others who aren't even as old as me."

Before Walton could go berserk from the humiliation, Yang Qiu added, "As an old adversary, I know very well what tricks the Inquisition is employing. Twenty years ago, those old fellows, who carried Sealed Artifacts with them even in the Holy Land for a sense of security, had already given up trying to hunt me down. Instead, they kept letting you church knights, who are easily replenishable, pester me endlessly. They only wanted to use the lives of your sort to exert pressure on me in hopes that I would lose control of my mind."

Walton, who was on the verge of erupting in rage, felt as if he had been stuffed into a bucket of ice and instantly froze.

The squad of over 20 church knights surrounding Yang Qiu and Lowell was also dumbfounded.

Yang Qiu wasn't lying. Those lunatics from the Inquisition were indeed capable of doing such a thing.

And indeed, they had nearly succeeded. By chance, they had made Yang Qiu pass through the forest and get ensnared by the elder god's tentacle that had once anchored him. Yang Qiu had indeed been struggling on the verge of losing control and had taken the initiative to head to the Sorenson Mountains, which was a graveyard of the fallen…

"It has already been 20 years since a priest last died at my hands.

"In the past 20 years, the Inquisition only sent out calvary to hunt down a lunatic like me who managed to successfully infiltrate the sealed Holy Land… Have you really not had the slightest suspicion?"

After a pause, Yang Qiu let go of the reins and extended a hand to Walton. "Even countries with blood feuds would sit down and negotiate when they no longer have the resources to maintain intense confrontation. I think that would be the best solution for smart people to deal with disputes. What do you think, Commander Walton?"

Half an hour later, in the local Radiant Sun Church.

"Eh? Walton—Ah!"

The white-robed priest resting in the prayer room jumped up the moment he saw Yang follow Walton into the room and instinctively backed away.

Commander Walton, who had pushed open the door, saw the priest's reaction… and his face turned darker.

"You didn't try to kill me, a wanted criminal, the moment you saw me, so I can take this as a show of respect," Yang Qiu said with a smile as he walked past Walton, entered the room, and sat down on a wooden chair. "This is our first time meeting. I'm Yang, and this is my friend, Charlie Rex."

Lowell, who had taken a seat beside Yang, rolled his eyes at Yang Qiu and gave a slight bow toward the white-robbed priest.

The white-robed priest: "??"

The old priest, who could not understand what had happened, looked toward Walton blankly.

Even though Yang kept calling him "young," Walton actually wasn't young. He was already in his forties.

Having lived to such an age, it was obvious that Walton was no longer as hot-headed as people in their twenties or thirties. Regardless of how angry he was, he could still suppress his emotions and keep up appearances. "The Nightmare Butcher hopes to negotiate."

"Negotiate?!" The white-robed priest was dumbfounded.

Yang Qiu raised his hand and held up two fingers.

"You have two choices, friar.

"One, rebuke Commander Walton harshly for betraying the Radiant Sun Church and, on the spot, duke it out with me to the death. Use your life to humiliate Walton, who tried to make peace with the enemy.

"Two, praise Commander Walton's sacrifice for the bigger picture. In order to prevent more church knights being wasted at my hands, he would rather endure humiliation and bear the accusation of betrayal to try and negotiate peace."

The white-robed priest was dumbfounded, his mouth agape, and he remained speechless for a long time…

Choosing to save face or save one's life didn't matter much to young hotheads. Regardless of which world they were from, youngsters who had only lived for less than 30 years were more than happy to risk their lives for the ideals they believed in.

To people who had lived to a certain age, this wasn't even for consideration. Face was nothing compared to living.

In front of Yang, who had personally slaughtered many high-ranking Radiant Sun Church priests, the white-robed priest did not even dare to pretend he was "forced." He only struggled for a few seconds before sitting down silently.

"What do you want to negotiate?" the white-robed priest asked with as straight a face as he could muster.

"Partial peace," Yang Qiu replied calmly. "Maintain friendly relations and peace within the territory of Indahl. Beyond Indahl, you may continue to oppose me."

The white-robed priest's jaw fell once more.

Even Captain Walton, who believed Yang Qiu's words and brought him here, was bewildered.

"Genuine negotiation is impossible." Yang Qiu chuckled. "Many officials in different countries often shout for war, and the biggest reason for that is these politicians do not have to be on a battlefield where they might face the enemy at any time. As long as there are soldiers left, these politicians can continue their belligerence, right?"

This statement was rather audacious…

Commander Walton's face nearly turned green, while the priest's face was as pale as his robes.

Yang Qiu leaned forward and got close to the pale-faced white-robed priest. "I am in Indahl, and Indahl is the battlefield for the both of us. If those of us engaging in the frontline desire peace, it doesn't require approval from those in the 'rear,' does it? In order to protect our own, we sometimes have to resort to some less-than-honest tactics. I think this reasoning is rather sound. What about you?"

The white-robed priest's face twitched several times. After much thought, he forced himself to speak, "It's not as easy as you think. The ones pursuing you aren't just Walton's cavalry."

"You can send them to Weisshem to find me, just remember to send a word in advance," said Yang Qiu. "Of course, you can rest assured, friar, since I've voluntarily proposed to maintain peace within the territory of Indahl, I will certainly keep my promise and not take lives. Whatever number of men you send, I'll return them intact."

He would surely return the men, but their equipment, weapons, and horses were another matter. After all, players' attachment to their equipment and mounts was something Yang Qiu, as an "NPC Lord," couldn't force them to relinquish.

The white-robed priest couldn't help but shift his gaze toward Walton.

Walton didn't say anything and remained silent.

It was true; the Inquisition consisted entirely of fanatical zealots willing to dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to obey the instructions of the priests. But once they realized they were expendable, the most fervor of these fanatics would diminish. People were fundamentally selfish beings, and even those who could temporarily set aside their self-interest couldn't entirely suppress their innate selfishness.

In the most challenging times for the country of China, those who remained unwavering for decades on the secret frontline relied on their great and noble beliefs, their fervor to change the world, and their faith to bring about a new day for their comrades.

Hunting down a black mage who once invaded their Holy Land and desecrated their church might indeed be a pursuit of justice, but… how lofty was it?

The white-robed priest couldn't find words to accuse Walton of being selfish because he himself had long moved away from his days as a religious zealot. When he was assigned to oversee missionary work in the remote southern nation of the Rhine Kingdom, he had already embraced his own self-interest.

Not to mention… the Nightmare Butcher, who moved freely, even in the Holy Land, and had killed numerous high-ranking priests, was sitting right before them.

"So… what do you want, Black Mage?" the white-robed priest uttered hoarsely.

This proactive question signified his willingness to compromise.

"Only a few modest requests," Yang Qiu said with a pleasant smile. "My friend here, Charles Rex, is the illegitimate child of a viscount in the Rhine Kingdom."

Beside him, Inspector Lowell's expression remained cold, reflecting a bleak sense of helplessness.