Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“This place brings back terrible memories. The scene after the annihilation of the Inya tribe looked exactly like this,” Inyakan’s tone was heavier than usual. It was as if he had dredged up an anchor buried deep in the sea of his memories.

“Were there demons swarming in the Inya tribe’s village as well?”

“Yes. All sorts of monsters gathered, turning the place into a living hell. I smashed their heads over and over again… I lost track of time, completely unaware of how long I’d been fighting.”

Inyakan’s expression was stoic, but behind that indifferent facade, the countless scars etched into his soul were palpable. Even Dominic, who stood behind him with his arms crossed, dared not interrupt or make a snide remark during this confession.

“But no matter how many I killed, the demons never seemed to decrease in number. It was as if they were being born right there in the village of Inya. In the end, I had no choice but to abandon my family’s bodies and flee.”

“I see… Wait, hold on.”

“What did you just say?”

“I said I abandoned my family’s bodies.”

“No, before that.”

Inyakan furrowed his brow, deep in thought, before recalling his own words.

“‘No matter how many I killed, the demons never seemed to decrease…’? Is that what you mean?”

“Then, could it be…”

Binaeril’s concern was soon proven to be reality. Dominic, who had been standing outside the stable, shouted as he noticed the demons slowly creeping in.

“Get out here! They’re swarming again!”

***

Priya was left speechless by Callisto’s words that they were heading towards Barbaroana.

“That place…”

Priya knew exactly what kind of place it was. She was the one who had carried the unconscious Yunnaeril away from there.

“Sir Callisto, listen to me. That place is dangerous. Rushing in blindly won’t help you understand anything.”

“It’s too late, Sister.”

“We’re almost there.”

Priya glanced over Callisto’s shoulder and confirmed the scene ahead. They were already racing across a snowy field.

“Once we get past that, we’ll see the village of the Inya tribe.”

The sound of the wind howling from all directions grew fiercer. As they crested the snow-covered hill, the landscape beyond came into view. However, what they saw was a scene that defied comprehension.

“I warned you,” Priya whispered into Callisto’s ear, “it’s dangerous.”

From a distance, it looked like a writhing black mass. But Callisto soon realized the truth: it wasn’t just a simple black lump but a swarm of demons tearing each other apart. And it wasn’t just that—around the demons, piles of their corpses were already stacked high, forming a gruesome mountain.

“What is that?” he muttered, his eyes seeing the scene but his mind struggling to comprehend it. Why were the demons gathering in that specific spot? Why were they mauling each other? What could possibly be there to cause such chaos?

The startled cries of the horses rang out as Callisto unknowingly tightened his grip on the reins.

“Sir Callisto,” Priya called out, and Callisto turned his head towards her. “Don’t set foot in that place. Turn back now, and I’ll explain everything.”

Meanwhile, Binaeril’s group, having fought off the demons, hurried back to the magic carriage with Priya’s belongings in tow.

“Run! Quickly!”  

“Hurry!”

Even those who usually hated the magic carriage were now urging Binaeril to move faster as they saw the relentless wave of demons approaching. Binaeril infused the carriage with mana, causing it to burst into action with explosive speed. The sound of demons’ bodies being crushed against the carriage’s front echoed behind them.

“Are we clear?” Binaeril asked, finally able to catch his breath after they had put some distance between themselves and the chaos.

“What was that village? Were people really living there?” Dominic questioned.

“Everything—houses and belongings—was destroyed, but the fences and the outline of the village remained intact,” Binaeril replied.

“That means the village didn’t fall into ruin too long ago,” Dominic concluded, sharing Binaeril’s thoughts. Though the reason for the village’s destruction was unclear, it was not their immediate concern.

“Here,” Binaeril handed over a piece of clothing. “It’s what Priya used to wear.”

“It’s covered in blood.”

“She said her life was in danger.”

Inyakan, who had been examining the tattered garment, suddenly snatched it up and buried his face in it, sniffing deeply.

“Finally showing your true colors, huh? There’s a rumor that all bald men are perverts…” Dominic sneered.

“What nonsense are you spouting? I was smelling the blood,” Inyakan retorted.

“No need to keep secrets from us,” Dominic shot back.

Inyakan handed the fabric back to Binaeril. “It’s fresh blood. The scent is still strong.”

“Can you really tell such things?”

“Yes, and there’s one more thing,” Inyakan said, his expression uncertain.

“I’m not entirely sure, but it seems like the owner of this blood might still be alive.”

“And how can you tell that?”

“The blood of a dying person smells different. I can distinguish it.”

“But you said you’re not sure.”

“It’s been a few days, so I can’t be certain. But I’m usually right—my nose rarely fails me.”

“So you’re saying Priya might be alive.”

“I’m saying she *might* be alive,” Inyakan emphasized.

Dominic, who had been listening, chimed in, “Actually, there’s something that caught my attention too, Binaeril.”

“What is it?”

“In the stable where we found that piece of fabric, I noticed some wheel tracks that hadn’t been there long.”

“Wheel tracks?”

“Yes. If the woman you’re searching for fled from the stable, there would have been blood scattered around as she moved.”

Dominic’s point was valid.

“That means Priya was likely transported somewhere.”

“If my memory serves me right, the wheel tracks led west.”

Binaeril looked at his companions with newfound admiration.

“…What? Why are you looking at us like that?”

The two exchanged uneasy glances with Binaeril.

“You guys are smarter than I thought.”

***

When Yunnaeril and Priya first arrived at the Inya tribe’s village, Paladin Callisto was with them. But while Yunnaeril and Priya stayed behind in the village, Callisto had left Barbaroana and returned to the Order.

Callisto had been handling other matters at the Order, and the commander returned to the Holy Kingdom a few weeks later.

“Oh, Commander! Are you returning after completing your mission safely?”

The commander’s face, which Callisto hadn’t seen in almost a month, was gaunt. Not just gaunt—he looked almost like a corpse. His expression was that of someone who had just seen a dead body for the first time, filled with some kind of dread.

Without acknowledging Callisto’s cheerful greeting, Commander Yunnaeril headed straight to his quarters.

“…What’s wrong with the Commander?” Callisto asked.

Priya, who had returned with the commander, looked no better.

“Sir Callisto, later. I’ll explain everything later,” Priya said, following Yunnaeril into his room.

It had been years since she said, “later.” Even if they turned back, there was nowhere to go. In the end, it fell to Priya to arrange a place for them to rest.

“Where’s my pipe?”

“I couldn’t find it. It probably got broken during the fight with the commander.”

“I can’t perform at my best without it,” Priya sighed, but the magic she cast was anything but lackluster. In no time, she created a cave, brought the carriage inside, and started a fire.

But she wasn’t done yet. Rubbing her hands together, she manipulated the snow, shaping it with precision, and tossed it toward the entrance of the cave. The snowballs hardened, sealing the entrance shut. As the interior darkened, she summoned two or three light orbs, completing the preparations.

“It’s a bit cold,” she remarked. With two quick stomps, the fire doubled in size.

“It would be nice to have something to wear.” She grabbed a handful of snowflakes and scattered them, crafting a snow-white dress that perfectly hugged the curves of her body.

Callisto, who had been watching the entire process, was left speechless.

“What’s wrong, Sir Callisto?” she asked.

“For the first time in my life, I think I chose the wrong career.”

“Dreaming of magic because of me isn’t a good idea. I’m a special case,” she replied.

Special indeed. Priya wasn’t an ordinary human; she was a nymph, blessed with innate magical power.

With a snap of her fingers, Priya created a few chairs out of snow and sat down, offering a seat to Callisto as well. To his surprise, the snow chairs weren’t cold at all.

“Where should I begin?” she mused.

“Tell me what happened there,” Callisto said.

“Ah, right.” Priya’s eyes wandered, lost in the flickering flames of the campfire.

On the last night in the village of the Inya tribe, Yunnaeril, Priya, and Inyakan’s son, Bala II, had returned from hunting a Snow Serpent. They gathered together, sitting by the fire.

Yunnaeril paused mid-conversation and pulled out Starfall, his blade.

Bala II was nearly entranced by the beauty of the sword’s blade, barely managing to tear his gaze away and close his eyes tightly.

“That is a dangerous sword,” he remarked.

“Yes. That’s why I rarely draw it. But there’s something I need to check right now.”

Holding Starfall by its hilt with one hand and supporting the blade with the other, Yunnaeril turned to the others.

“Sing the song you sang earlier. Once more, please.”

Priya recalled the sight of the warriors battling the Snow Serpent as she listened to Yunnaeril’s words. She remembered how, when they chanted something, a strange wave of magical energy surged powerfully among them.

“Could it be?” Priya wondered aloud.

“I think so too,” Yunnaeril replied, extending the blade of Starfall towards Bala II. “The song of the Inya tribe… Could that be the power the Cardinal was searching for?”

At that time, Priya hadn’t known about the fragments. She only knew that the Cardinal was searching for “something.”

“Bala, son of the one who fled from the wolves in fear. Sing the song of Inya that you sang earlier. Please, once more.”

Bala II tried hard not to look directly at Starfall. Closing his eyes tightly, he recited the incantation in response to Yunnaeril’s request.

“…Nothing’s happening,” he said after a moment.

“Try again,” Yunnaeril urged. Priya could feel a faint tremor in Yunnaeril’s hand as he held Starfall. He was becoming increasingly certain that his hypothesis was correct.

“Bala, put all your heart into it, just like before. I feel like something’s about to happen!”

Bala II began chanting the incantation again, louder and more clearly. As he did, the tremors from Starfall became more pronounced, enough for the other two to sense it.

*Brrrrrrr*—

Priya watched, astonished, barely daring to breathe as she realized that the sword was resonating with the song.

“MAL PARAVINYA, INYA VAISA!!” Bala II shouted with all his might, his voice echoing like a thunderclap in the tent. In response, Starfall trembled violently, as if it might shatter under the intensity of its resonance with the incantation.