Chapter 108

Low-Level Mage Doping

Before long, our trio of Supreme Mages came upon a massive open facility.

A wide parking lot. A huge building that was broad and low to the ground, unlike most Korean buildings.

We had vaguely seen it before leaving the alley because the fog was so thin, but once we got within about a block's distance, it became obvious.

"Some kind of baseball stadium?"

"It looks like Seongnam Sports Complex."

"The capital region really is nice. They've even got huge stadiums like this."

After hearing Shin Nain's and the Pastor's explanations, we altered our course.

The Seongnam Sports Complex still bore clear traces of military use.

Sandbags were piled at every entrance, while abandoned ammunition boxes lay scattered nearby.

Maybe it had been used as a helicopter landing zone or a gathering point for troops.

Unfortunately, we didn't have the luxury of exploring the inside.

The ground trembled.

A heavy vibration climbed up through the soles of my feet, gripped my thighs, and seemed to tap lightly against my pelvis and tailbone.

The hem of my poncho fluttered.

No magic or sophisticated observation was necessary.

The artillery barrage had begun.

Then a sharp sound sliced across the skies of Seongnam.

Fiiiiiiiiiish—

An artillery shell.

A shell was tearing through the air.

Naturally, all three of us looked up.

Not that we could actually see it.

Some foolish part of us simply hoped the clouds might split open.

At moments like this, you truly understood how terrifying modern weapons were.

Weapons designed and perfected for one purpose:

To kill people.

Boom.

The ground shook again.

I unconsciously stepped backward to steady myself.

There wasn't even a breeze, yet I could feel the weight of my fluttering poncho.

Explosives meant to demolish concrete buildings were raining down from the sky somewhere.

At the same time, the buzzing of a swarm of hornets pierced through the artillery impacts.

"Those are drones."

"You don't need to tell me."

I stared up at the sky, feeling strangely hollow.

At the signal of the bombardment, drones hidden among buildings rose into the air.

Countless quadcopters lifted off around subway stations, their gun barrels gleaming.

Farther away, larger fixed-wing drones appeared.

Actually seeing something I'd only watched in YouTube and Twitter videos brought a flood of thoughts.

The new paradigm of twenty-first-century warfare.

The flower of modern warfare.

Drones.

If they were unleashing that many, how could the enemy possibly survive?

What if they all died?

What if my precious magical remains got blown apart by suicide drones?

What about my leveling opportunities?

The loud sound that followed wasn't artillery or drone engines.

It was a human voice carried through a loudspeaker.

[Advance north along Sanseong-daero! Civilians and stragglers are to hold position and not approach! Anyone approaching will be shot! No rescue operations will be conducted!]

The ground shook once more.

This time, it wasn't artillery.

It was footsteps.

The weight of armored vehicles and marching soldiers pounded against the earth, kicking up dust from around the stadium.

But what truly caught our attention came next.

[Citizens in northern Seongnam are advised to prepare for chemical warfare conditions! Chemical munitions will be deployed in three minutes!]

Anyone who served in the military probably experienced tear gas training at least once.

I vividly remembered my gas mask's loose chin strap failing to seal properly, leaving me coughing, crying, and drowning in tear gas.

But there was no way these chemical shells were mere tear gas.

I immediately pulled off my mask and inspected it.

I didn't know how long the effects of Hand Stage 2 [Enchant] would last.

Just in case, I drew my greatsword and cut my left hand.

Slice!

Using the blood that welled up, I quickly inscribed the word [Purification] onto the gas mask.

When I put it back on, the smell of raw rubber mixed with fresh blood.

Disgusting.

Still better than dying from VX gas.

I held out my bleeding hand toward Shin Nain and the Pastor.

"Gas masks."

"Here."

"Please."

One by one, I inscribed [Purification] on theirs as well.

Because time was short, I erased the cut on my hand using Eye Stage 3 [Cognitive Dissonance].

Naturally, the price came immediately.

When I opened my eyes again, I felt the pressure inside one eye spike abnormally.

My vision blurred.

A cold, stinging pain lingered beneath the eyelid.

After testing each eye separately, the answer became clear.

The vision in my right eye had deteriorated.

It was temporary.

But impossible to ignore.

Good thing I'd learned to shoot with both eyes.

Preparations complete, our trio exchanged glances and moved out.

We headed toward the road near the apartments below the stadium while the surviving military units continued advancing along the boulevard.

Their loudspeakers echoed through the city.

[Chemical shells deployed! Gas! Gas! Gas!]

The sound gradually faded behind us.

On a battlefield, the amount one individual can perceive is extremely limited.

All we could do was keep our rifles shouldered and walk faster than usual.

Occasionally, strange smoke rose from beyond apartment buildings.

Occasionally, we saw charred corpses slumped against walls.

Crossing the stadium district and entering a villa neighborhood, we were greeted by abandoned vehicles and piles of trash.

I glanced at Shin Nain.

He gave me a thumbs-up.

Probably using hand signals out of consideration for the Pastor, who couldn't use telepathy.

Instead of commenting, I focused.

Then I stepped on a discarded snack wrapper fluttering in the wind.

Crunch.

At that exact moment, I heard someone gasp from a dark corner beyond the window of an unlit villa.

Click.

I immediately raised my rifle and aimed.

Shin Nain grabbed the barrel.

"Civilian."

A civilian.

That's what Shin Nain called them.

But with the world ending, could people who still hadn't awakened magic really be called civilians?

As someone who remembered society before 2028, the term felt ridiculous.

People used to call you dead weight if you couldn't work.

A social orphan if you didn't work.

Yet somehow everyone became so kind when discussing people who couldn't use magic.

No.

They weren't civilians.

They were non-mages.

I lowered my rifle and examined the room.

The window glass had shattered long ago.

Sharp fragments littered the alley below.

Two conclusions immediately came to mind.

With that little protection, they'd die if the gas reached them.

Since they were still alive, the gas hadn't spread here yet.

Which meant the gas mask filters enhanced by [Purification] were still operating at full efficiency.

I clicked my tongue and addressed Shin Nain and the Pastor.

"From now on, let's call them non-mages instead of civilians."

"Why? What's the issue?"

"I'm a civilian too."

Ignoring the comment, I returned to formation behind Shin Nain.

Against mages, it was better for Shin Nain to lead.

He detected danger.

I adapted.

The Pastor supplied the luck buff from [Salvational Certainty].

It wasn't a formation we'd put much thought into, but it worked surprisingly well.

Against monsters we'd lack firepower.

Against people?

People die when shot.

Finding them first was overwhelmingly advantageous.

Shin Nain proved his worth before long.

Ear Mages could read the thoughts of anyone below their realm.

And among all Ear Mages outside the containment line, Shin Nain possessed the highest realm.

The moment he detected human presence, he warned us.

Stopping in the middle of a villa alley, he raised a clenched left fist and spoke quickly but clearly.

"The 55th Unit."

We immediately lowered our posture and scanned the area.

Dark villa windows.

Concrete stair railings.

Rooftops.

Abandoned vehicles.

My eyes darted everywhere.

Ignoring the blurry vision in my right eye, I focused on my left.

Meanwhile, a single thought repeated itself inside my mind.

Strategic allocation of pain.

Distribute suffering within the limits I can endure.

Because of that, I refrained from using Tongue Magic and activated only Eye Stage 1 [Future Sight: Ten Seconds Ahead].

The Gangnam Group were lunatics who weaponized monsters tactically and strategically.

Preparing for unexpected monster attacks was only common sense.

Considering they'd even developed ambush tactics involving Human Slimes to neutralize Ear Mages, they likely possessed other countermeasures too.

While I searched, the Pastor crouched behind a vehicle and quietly recited a prayer.

I couldn't make out the words.

Only a few seconds passed.

Human detector Shin Nain adjusted his headset, let his cross-marked poncho flutter, and turned toward us.

"They're planning to strike the military unit advancing up Sanseong-daero. We couldn't stop them. We missed our chance. Due to lack of manpower, they're prioritizing attacks against regular military forces."

"What about military special forces?"

"If we could detect them that easily, they wouldn't be special forces."

I couldn't argue with that.

The Pastor lifted his head.

"The military is drawing attention for us. We need to move. If we're late, people will die."

"We could play it safe. Let the military force Yellow Band to reveal more of his magic. It'll make our job easier."

"Mr. Jemin. On the other hand, there may be groups sacrificing people just like the ski-goggle demon. The enemy knows far too much. This isn't the time for mind games."

Help the military: two votes.

Use the military as bait to gather intelligence: one vote.

I clicked my tongue internally.

Still, Shin Nain had a point.

If sacrificing lives for information only gave the enemy more breathing room, it was pointless.

Besides, getting shot hurt me too.

If everyone could shoot guns, then helping professional gunfighters achieve numerical superiority was the logical choice.

"Fine. We're a democracy. Let's do it the democratic way."

Decision made.

Shin Nain removed his rifle sling.

The Pastor stood up.

As I raised my rifle and pulled it close to my chest, the Pastor tapped my shoulder.

His voice was unusually serious.

"Baek Jemin. A person is defined by achievements, not talent. And there is no greater achievement than saving lives. Every human life contains free will and the breath of the Lord."

I laughed.

"We're literally going to kill people with guns. Why think about saving lives now?"

"They've already fallen into the demons' trap. I'd like to give them a chance to repent, but too many innocent lives are at stake. Sometimes you have to accept what's possible and what's not, Baek Jemin."

"Yeah, yeah. Save the sermon for later."

I may be a dirty and selfish human being.

But at least I don't justify my killings with noble ideals.

That was the biggest difference between me and the Christian Duo, who were driven by a sense of mission, and myself, Baek Jemin, who pursued selfish greed.

The Pastor clicked his tongue and turned away.

Shin Nain merely shrugged and looked forward again.

And thus began the pursuit of our trio of Supreme Mages.

As we passed through the villa alleys, the hems of our ponchos fluttered.

Whenever I felt eyes watching us and aimed my rifle, only dark shadows beyond windows stared back.

Silent sobbing breaths layered themselves over the sounds of our gas masks.

Eventually, we began hearing labored breathing.

We had entered the gas zone.

The reality of that became clear at an intersection we passed.

Even from sound alone, I could imagine it.

Someone choking on blood-filled foam.

Trying to shove fingers into their throat.

Flailing wildly.

Knocking over nearby objects.

Collapsing.

Twitching beneath fallen debris before finally growing still.

What did they look like?

A man?

A woman?

An old person?

A child?

I didn't know.

What I did know was this:

They were dead.

The Pastor's steps faltered.

I didn't touch him.

Didn't speak.

Instead, I took a deep breath.

Hooooo...

The sound echoed through my gas mask.

The Pastor tightened his grip on his K2 rifle.

Shin Nain noticed immediately and slowed his pace.

"Shin Nain."

"Yes."

"You don't need to worry about me. Let's go."

"Heh... Understood."

The Pastor gripped his rifle tighter and resumed walking.

Our pace quickly accelerated.

Then we passed a church.

A convenience store came into view.

At that moment, Shin Nain raised two fingers in a V-sign.

"The Pastor and I will move together. Mr. Jemin, go through the villas. Use your Crusader Arts to suppress interiors and nearby rooftops while advancing."

Split up even further?

The idea sounded ridiculous.

But when I focused, Shin Nain's telepathic voice became crystal clear.

The enemy has Ear Mages too. Ear Magic only hears mages below your realm. They can't hear you or me. However, if we assume they can hear the Pastor's thoughts just as I can, then the Pastor is the only one they can detect.

You think a pincer operation is possible with so few people?

The 55th Unit is low on numbers too. Furthermore, if gunfire breaks out, friendly drones will investigate. To avoid artillery and drone strikes, they need quick engagements and constant repositioning. Even without magic, armies exist to kill. Once the military secures and controls the battlefield, higher-realm Crusader Mages like us can dominate. And since you and I have telepathy, coordination becomes much easier.

I understood.

The people who had been using magic to ambush others unilaterally...

were about to be ambushed unilaterally by us.

I, a Grand Mage of all five paths, would act as a one-man assault unit.

I would hunt down their ambush positions.

Meanwhile, Shin Nain and the Pastor would serve as bait, locating enemy positions.

Ultimately, we'd force the enemy to retreat by drawing military attention through sustained firefights.

I tightened my grip on my rifle.

Click.

"I'm going off to farm some magical remains."

The Supreme Mages split up once again.

The Christian Duo.

Me.

But there was nothing to fear about operating alone.

Shin Nain had thought this through brilliantly.

To the enemy, a Grand Mage with mastery over all five paths was practically a natural disaster.

From here on out, I was on my own.

Leaving the Pastor and Shin Nain behind as they continued talking, I headed straight for a nearby building.

I aimed my rifle at the glass entrance.

The door had been sealed shut with heavy chains.

Didn't matter.

Bang!

No matter how sturdy a glass door was, unless it was reinforced glass, a bullet would punch straight through it.

The door sagged like thin wrapping paper.

I smashed it a few times with my rifle stock until it collapsed neatly and strode inside.

If the side that saw first won, then I held the overwhelming advantage.

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

Target.

55th Unit.

Kill.

Five minutes.

Route.

The lack of fog let me feel tiny blood vessels bursting behind my eyes, but it was tolerable.

The fatigue felt like being awake for thirty-six hours straight, accompanied by a dull ache behind my eyes.

Far better than the days when light alone made tears pour from them.

The problem was that something new appeared.

Instead of red footprints, I saw something else.

A bright flicker flashed like delirium.

Then it turned blood-red and attached itself to reality.

Crimson fluorescent light began tracing walls and staircases like painted road markings.

Had it changed?

If so, why?

I followed the light.

AR-15 held close against my chest.

The glowing trail wound through tile cracks, climbed pipes, and shimmered like fluorescent paint.

The crimson glow sparkled like scattered stars trapped beneath the ocean.

Disturbing.

But undeniably effective.

At the top, I found a rooftop door left slightly ajar.

The red light continued through the gap.

I hesitated.

For a firefight, I hadn't prepared enough [Enchantments].

But making wounds with a blade in a city currently being bombarded with chemical agents had obvious risks.

If I'd been a non-mage soldier, I would've charged in anyway.

The 55th Unit, however, trusted magic.

They weren't properly prepared.

And unlike them, I wasn't a non-mage.

I switched my rifle's selector to safe, slung it over my shoulder, and drew my greatsword.

I cut my left hand.

Slice.

Blood ran freely.

With that blood, I wrote on my poncho.

Hand Stage 2.

[Enchant].

The words I inscribed were:

[Bulletproof].

On my boots I added:

[Silent].

Finally, I erased the wound with Eye Stage 3 [Cognitive Dissonance].

The price for removing the cut was another deterioration in my right eye.

Still manageable.

As long as I avoided major injuries.

And the best way to avoid injury was simple.

Overwhelm the enemy completely.

Apparently the enemy noticed something while I was taking my time.

The evidence was the silence.

Moments ago, I could hear breathing through gas masks.

Now it had stopped.

Beneath the eerie red glow, I sheathed my sword and tucked my AR-15 beneath my right arm.

Then I grabbed the edge of my poncho with my left hand, lowered my body, and shoved the door open with my weight.

Creeeeeeak—

The hinges screamed.

I dropped to one knee.

Once, I'd watched a person get shredded by machine-gun fire.

I understood better than anyone that the human body wasn't meant to withstand bullets.

Hundreds of rounds per minute tearing flesh apart.

That was reality.

Yet at this moment, I possessed a strange certainty.

Not against a machine gun.

But against rifle rounds?

I could stop them.

I'd survive.

With magic.

RATATATATAT!

The instant the door fully opened, bullets poured in.

Tiny projectiles carrying immense kinetic energy hammered into me without pause.

Not me.

My poncho.

The poncho enchanted with [Bulletproof] didn't tear apart.

It didn't even develop holes.

Instead, it rippled violently as though struck by heavy stones.

Because I'd raised my left arm to shield my face, I could see the fabric clearly.

Within seconds, dozens of bulging impact marks covered its surface.

The cracking impacts deafened me.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

Some rounds struck my left arm as well.

Bruises blossomed immediately.

Then I finally heard the sound I'd been waiting for.

Click.

Metal failing to catch.

Click-click-click-click.

The rifle was empty.

At that moment, I lowered my arm.

Through my gas mask lenses, I finally saw the shocked soldier of the 55th Unit.

He was frantically changing magazines.

Apparently he either didn't know about Hand Stage 2 [Enchant] or had never encountered it before.

To be fair, I'd given him plenty of opportunities.

Waiting patiently while he emptied an entire thirty-round magazine practically made me a saint.

Click.

This time the metal sound came from me.

I rested the AR-15 across my raised forearm and aimed through the red-dot sight.

My finger had been on the trigger long ago.

The safety clicked over to fire.

The soldier hurriedly lowered his weapon.

"Wait—!"

"I'll only use one round."

The recoil slammed into my shoulder.

A hole opened in his chest.

Only after he collapsed did I rise to my feet.

Maybe I'd wasted time.

But learning that [Bulletproof] was far more useful than expected made it worthwhile.

Then Shin Nain's telepathy reached me.

Mr. Jemin. Can we proceed?

Yeah.

Let's go.

I looted a couple magazines and some grenades from the corpse and stuffed them into my pockets and belt.

Then I crossed the rooftop.

Below the skies of Seongnam, where artillery shook the city and drones drifted overhead, my poncho naturally fluttered in the wind.

Sweat accumulated beneath it.

Summer was approaching.

But I couldn't exactly remove my gas mask in the middle of a chemical attack.

Still.

I felt something.

My magic had become temporarily stronger.

Eye Stage 3 [Cognitive Dissonance].

The extraordinary effectiveness of Stage 2 [Enchant].

Even Eye Stage 1 [Perception Expansion] had changed.

There was no reason for any of that to happen suddenly.

Especially not under a perfectly clear sky with no fog.

There was only one possible explanation.

Destroying the remains of that low-level Heart Mage.

Destroying lower-level mage remains might not increase your realm.

But it could apparently provide a temporary boost.

If I was boosted...

Could I perhaps get a taste of Heart Stage 2 [Physical Enhancement]?

I licked the sweat running beneath my gas mask.

Salty.

Disgusting.

Yet it sharpened my mind.

This might actually work.

I stopped at the rooftop railing and looked toward the next building.

The temporary enhancement gained from destroying low-level remains filled me with limitless confidence.

Sure, it wasn't true Heart Stage 2.

The limitations were obvious.

But I wasn't trying to do anything grand.

Watching Lee Sejun all this time had been frustrating.

He possessed that power and only used it for things like:

Hit harder.

Carry bigger guns.

There were more efficient applications.

Lee Sejun couldn't use them because he was a soldier through and through.

Click.

I tucked my rifle under my arm and took several steps backward.

Between rooftops lay a gap.

Five or six stories down.

Falling would obviously hurt.

The road below was about a lane and a half wide.

Attempting it with ordinary leg strength would turn me into Human Slime.

But I wasn't ordinary.

I was a mage.

Artillery thundered.

Drones circled overhead.

Gunfire echoed.

People choked to death on poison gas.

And here I stood at the highest point in this hell, my poncho fluttering.

Hooooo...

I stepped forward.

The breathing inside my gas mask grew quiet.

Hooooo...

A walk became a sprint.

I planted a foot on the railing.

And jumped.

For several brief seconds—

I was in the sky.

No wings.

Only flight.

Below me, I spotted Shin Nain and the Pastor weaving between abandoned vehicles.

They were already engaged.

Muzzle flashes burst as they fired.

Then concrete replaced open air.

Thump!

I rolled once.

My shoulder ached where the rifle had struck me.

Otherwise?

Nothing.

Considering I lived every day with a burning pain in my left hand, this was perfectly acceptable.

The tears gathering in my eyes were obviously because seeing people die was sad.

Obviously.

I rose and focused.

Shin Nain's telepathy was hammering my mind like spam mail.

Mr. Jemin! Taekwondo gym! Third floor!

I turned and readied my rifle.

Honestly?

This was insane.

Even I thought it looked cool as hell.

A mage leaping across rooftops, poncho billowing behind him, responding to allied requests.

Without embracing the title of Supreme Mage, there was no way to survive this.

Then I spotted the machine-gunner.

He'd set up a bipod on a third-floor ledge and was firing in controlled bursts.

My excitement vanished immediately.

The fact that he wasn't spraying wildly and was managing barrel heat properly meant one thing.

He absolutely had to die.

Click.

I dropped to one knee and aimed.

At that moment, the crimson guiding light flickered across my red-dot sight.

The combination of Tongue Magic and the enhancement boost had turned Eye Stage 1 into something absurd.

Like augmented reality, a marker appeared over reality itself.

It literally showed me where to shoot.

No zeroing.

No sight alignment.

The marker accounted for every tiny variable.

Breathing.

Movement.

Timing.

Everything.

With something like this, optical equipment felt unnecessary.

When the machine-gunner's forehead settled perfectly within the glowing crosshair, I spoke softly.

"One shot."

Bang!

The recoil struck.

A single casing bounced across the rooftop.

A fountain of blood erupted above the man's head.

Machine-gunners in the 55th Unit were usually Heart Mages.

I searched for an assistant gunner.

Sure enough, someone nearby realized they were being sniped and hurriedly threw a poncho over themselves.

Magic script.

A tactic similar to the one used by the Human Parasite creature.

The assistant gunner had wrapped himself in a poncho covered in Ear-Type magical script to neutralize potential snipers.

Pointless.

I possessed all five paths.

Tricks like that didn't work on me.

I squeezed the trigger again.

Bang!

Another casing bounced away.

The soldier wrapped in magical-script fabric twitched once and collapsed.

They think there's a sniper. The 55th Unit is retreating. Friendly drones are approaching. They won't identify friend from foe!

Then focus on getting the Pastor out.

I sent the telepathic response while watching drones approach in the distance.

Then I abruptly threw myself over the rooftop railing.

Toward another rooftop.

To evade the drones.

Thud!

My knees ached slightly.

Otherwise?

No injuries.

This was insane.

Even a mere sample of Heart Stage 2 felt incredible.

Mr. Jemin, I'll contact you every two minutes. Stay within range and move with us.

Okay.

Shin Nain really was smart.

Still, when it came to creative applications of magic, I'd beaten him to the punch again.

Grinning beneath my gas mask, I adjusted my rifle and slipped into a rooftop stairwell to avoid the drones.

My eyes searched for the bizarre crimson light.

I clicked my tongue in regret.

If only collecting low-level mage remains had been easier.

I didn't know how long the boost would last.

Which meant there was only one answer.

Milk it for everything it was worth.

The moment I reached that conclusion, I started moving again.

Shin Nain would head toward the enemy.

The Pastor would follow him.

So I only had to do the same.

The Supreme Mages had become specialists in magical warfare.

Supreme.

That title was no longer an empty boast.