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

"No… No! Stop! Stop right there!" Jorges Andres shouted furiously.

He tried to move his body, wanting to dismount and break through the magic barrier to stop those mercenaries, but he couldn't. The effect of the magical trap hadn't ended yet, and neither he nor his horse could budge an inch from their original positions. Moreover, his voice couldn't be heard by anyone outside the barrier.

With weapons drawn, the mercenaries maintained their loose formation—the sort that could easily be dispersed by a few coordinated cavalrymen—as they passed by the edge of the magic barrier.

"These things sure can run. To think they could flee so deep into the wilderness."

"I'm so tired of this godforsaken place. Let's finish this business and go back for a drink or two…"

Andres's eyes went red, and he trembled slightly.

Andres had only received a narrow-minded education focused on etiquette, respect, and chivalry meant for the "upper class" since he was a child, and he had never thought to pay attention to those undignified lower-class people. But at the very least, Andres wasn't the kind of person who would ignore the "cries he could hear."

He had seen the commoners in the weaving district twice before, and he even remembered the faces of a few individuals. It was impossible for Andres to remain indifferent while witnessing the brutal slaughter of those people at such close quarters. No one with even a shred of humanity could achieve such indifference.

"Black mage!"

Yang Qiu, leisurely flipping through a book, slightly raised his head to meet the furious knight's gaze.

"Why are you getting mad at me, young man?" Yang Qiu said with a slight smile. "Who among us can claim to have never stood by and watched tragedy unfold before our eyes before?"

"Nonsense!"

"Utter rubbish!"

Outraged soldiers of the Holy Legion, equally shocked and furious at the events unfolding outside the barrier, began to curse.

"Alright, let me rephrase it then." Yang Qiu, still sitting comfortably in his chair, showed no intention of standing up. "More than a hundred years ago, during my travels across the various countries of the Navalon Continent, I would stay for a while and conduct a small social investigation whenever I passed through towns of a certain size."

"Enough! Black mage, stop them!" Andres howled.

Ignoring everyone else, Yang Qiu only looked toward the black-robed ascetic in front of him. "The Duchy of Shiga's capital has a population of nearly one million. Naturally, I also conducted an investigation there on a subject that interested me. The theme of this investigation was: In respectable households with an annual income of over 10,000 gold coins, how many servants die on average every few years?"

The black-robed ascetic, who had been patiently observing Yang Qiu in silence, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

His fellow soldiers were momentarily stumped and forgot to continue their barrage of insults.

Undeterred by their reactions, Yang Qiu continued, "According to my investigation, households with an income sufficient to reach that amount annually require at least a viscount title and must possess actual territory, vassals, or hold high positions in the official institutions of the kingdom.

"I found ways to establish connections with the doormen and servants of these respectable households to gain information. The results of my investigation showed that households with wealth primarily derived from land taxes, estates, or plantations practically experienced 'accidents' with their servants almost every year.

"For households whose wealth comes from industries such as running schools, textile production, oil extraction, factory construction, or other handicraft businesses, as well as those with incomes from official positions, the occurrence rate of such 'accidents' was lower, averaging around two to three years between incidents.

"What's even more interesting is that… after classifying and summarizing the origins of several servants who met similar 'accidents' in different households, I discovered something intriguing." Yang Qiu's smile turned chilly. "These frequent 'accidents' that cost the lives of healthy servants in different affluent households often didn't happen to long-serving family servants who had served their masters for generations.

"Most of you here are from respectable backgrounds, and even if you don't have as many servants as those households with annual incomes of 10,000 gold coins, surely a few servants are well affordable. I wonder if anything similar has happened in your own households, or in the households of your relatives and neighbors?"

Yang Qiu leaned his hand on the armrest, supporting his chin with the back of his hand, and stared at the black-robed priest with a sly smile. "Compared to the displaced peasants that you rarely come into contact with, the servants who serve wealthy households are probably the closest to the common folk. Isn't it laughable that you people suddenly show concern and pity for the lower class only at this moment?"

Black-robed Inspector Lowell's lips trembled slightly.

At this moment, from behind the hills behind the barrier, where they couldn't see, came the sounds of desperate and terrified screams…

Lowell, who had already begun to question his understanding of life, felt his clenched fist shaking slightly.

"That's enough!" Andres, the knight whose mental defense had long since crumbled, cried out in despair. "You don't need to prove yourself right anymore, black mage! Do something!"

Finally, Yang Qiu acknowledged the existence of this pitiful knight from Camore. Maintaining his nonchalant attitude as if he had all the time in the world, he smiled at Andres. "Don't be impatient, young man. Didn't I already say it? We just need to remain calm and enjoy a battle that might turn out to be quite novel."

As he said that, the soldiers of the Holy Legion, who were still immobilized in place, were dumbfounded as they witnessed… the mercenaries with a strong sense of killing intent that had just passed by two minutes ago were now screaming and howling in horror as they frantically came stumbling and crawling in the opposite direction.

Andres: "??"

Lowell: "??"

All the soldiers still stuck in place: "???"

What followed after was a strange rattling along with chaotic, rambunctious cries as a large group of armored skeletons emerged from behind the hills, chasing after the mercenaries like a pack of famished wolves.

"WOWAKAKAKAAAA—!"

"KEKUEKEKUE!"

"KULULGUULU!"

Andres: "??"

Lowell: "??"

All the soldiers still stuck in place: "???"

"AH! YAWAKAKAKA!"

Some skeletons spotted the two opposing sides within the barrier and pointed at them in astonishment while making strange noises. But even so, these skeletons did not stop their pursuit as they chased after the mercenaries relentlessly.

Well, the soldiers of the Holy Legion couldn't understand, but Yang Qiu certainly could. This unbridled Fourth Crisis was pointing at him and shouting things like, "Holy sh*t, Old Yang is here," "Damn, this show-off is reading a book on the battlefield," "Is Old Yang meeting an old buddy?" "That black-clothed pretty boy NPC is so handsome," and so on.

The black-robed ascetic could no longer maintain his composure and stood up in astonishment.

A fleeing mercenary happened to fall not far from Lowell. In just a matter of seconds, several skeletons quickly swarmed in and pinned down the unlucky fellow.

Lowell's eyelid started twitching.

…the bloody and gory scene he expected didn't unfold. Instead, the skeletons that had subdued the unfortunate mercenary stripped him of his equipment with great efficiency and cooperation.

First, they removed the half-helmet with a visor. Then, they took off the wrist guards secured with straps, followed by the belt with a dagger, and even the high-top rubber-soled boots… All of it was swiftly confiscated by the skeletons.

Lowell: "…"

And it didn't end there. The stripped mercenary, left with only underclothes, was then bizarrely tied up with plastic strips by the skeletons and dragged away…

The skeletons that had acquired the equipment and captured the mercenary let out even more excited and nonsensical shouts like "WAKAKAAAA!" Then, they spread their legs and took off once more, creating an intense rattling as they enthusiastically chased after the next target.

"We've hit the jackpot! Hahaha!"

"Whoa, damn! There are horses! And so many too! Can we capture them?!"

"It's no use even if we capture them. 'Identify' shows that these regular horses cannot be ridden by undead!"

"F*ck!"

Players expressed their regret at being unable to acquire mounts through "seizure," but that didn't stop them from letting up on taking prisoners and looting equipment.

Not a lot of people were needed to follow after the Holy Legion cavalry and deal with a bunch of unarmed and weak old people. Moreover, due to the lack of time to hire proper mercenaries, these groups were actually the enforcers and local thugs from various plantations selected by Viscount Lynne and the mayor of Camore.

Being household guards for the affluent was often the best scenario for those who lacked talent or the opportunity to become professional-level fighters.

While their combat prowess couldn't compare to true professionals, it didn't require great combat capabilities to deal with troublemakers or beat up obedient farmers and serfs.

Even in the event of a territorial war between nobles, these well-fed and well-built household guards could be more effective than hastily conscripted peasants.

In short, this bunch would be mere cannon fodder on a proper battlefield and could only be laborers were they to join a merchant caravan. However, they could still handle the dirty work of bullying men and dominating women, relying on their false authority and the strength of numbers.

…If it were engaging in one-on-one battles against the newly-advanced players, they might actually stand a chance.

Unfortunately, it happened to be the peak online period for players at this point in time. Even the "skeletal remains" that had been brought along by their friends were online, and with over 200 armed and armored skeletons, they held a three-to-one advantage in numbers and could easily deal with this bunch of household guards.

Not to mention, these household guards had initially thought they were only here to deal with the old, weak, sick, and disabled. They hadn't been prepared to confront a skeleton horde three times their number. Without even forming a decent formation, they had ended up colliding head-on with a mass of onrushing players.

In any case, they suffered a grievous stomp.

Half an hour later.

Black-robed Inspector Lowell trudged back to the wooden chair Yang Qiu had given him and sat down, his face still twitching.

The 200 cavalry of the Holy Legion, including Camore knight Andres, were entirely silent.

The household guards that had scattered and fled in every direction were all captured by the skeletons, whose lightweight bones allowed them to move much faster. They were brought back in succession and experienced having every piece of equipment stripped off from head to toe. Utterly shell-shocked, these people didn't put up much resistance as they were bound and made to crouch on the ground…

They actually weren't dead. It was unbelievable that these terrifying skeletons hadn't killed them.

That's right. These household guards, who only had an advantage when dealing with unarmed civilians, didn't think to resist, so they didn't receive much harm. Any bruises and swelling were the result of their own falls.

"It's certainly quite an unconventional turn of events." A smiling Yang Qiu gave a nod to the seated Lowell.

Inspector Lowell: "…"

Yang Qiu wasn't finished yet. He continued to twist the proverbial knife in Lowell's heart, "Evil undead creatures have unexpectedly rescued the defenseless old, weak, and sick from the hands of the righteous noble army. I wonder what your thoughts are, Inspector?"

Inspector Lowell: "…"

Andres, mustering up his courage, spoke up to salvage the situation for their leader, "We all acknowledge that this reality is indeed… But it doesn't mean you are always right, black mage. It's just that… unexpected things can happen in the world, that's all."

"Why say things that you yourself are not certain about, young man," Yang Qiu responded calmly. "Just as you accused me of cruel behavior toward a certain nobleman, while I believe my actions prove the compassion I hold for innocent victims. Cruelty or compassion, righteousness or evil, correct or incorrect are all just definitions made by people based on their own perspectives.

"Evil undead creatures plundered the soldiers serving noble families, stole their belongings, and bound them up like pigs and sheep. Such actions are evil. But if we add the precondition that these undead creatures have thus saved the helpless that were doomed to be slaughtered, such actions might appear to be just."

At this point, Yang Qiu smiled. "Evil, justice—in the end, it's just a matter of how people define them. Claiming to always be right only proves that you have yet to mature, young man. I never boast about being right. Whatever I do is fine as long as I have a clear conscience."

Andres averted his gaze and lowered his head. Intense shame made this "young man" of over a hundred years feel extremely embarrassed…

Finally, Black-robed Inspector Lowell, who had been silently observing the black mage all this while, spoke up, "Is this… your belief, Yang? The path you pursue, the path of having no regrets?"

"Yes," Yang Qiu replied frankly. "When I was young, I experienced the feeling of guilt, and I must say, it was extremely uncomfortable. You know, Lowell, as spellcasters, we cannot anchor our faith in the divine nature of gods as you ascetics do, making the divine calling of a righteous god our path and steadfastly following it. Once a spellcaster begins to doubt their own convictions, losing control isn't far off."

"Upon understanding how dangerous guilt is, it is even more important for me to have a clear conscience," Yang Qiu said candidly. "Whether it's the perceived cruelty of mind toward a certain nobleman or the actions of these so-called vile undead creatures, they are merely means to an end. As long as my purpose allows me to be guilt-free, whether it is deemed cruel or compassionate, just or evil, it doesn't matter."

"I understand." Lowell raised his hand to stop him, deeply regretting that he had been curious about the powerful secrets of this black mage. Even he was starting to waver after hearing the words of this mad spellcaster as if Yang was speaking some language akin to ancient blasphemous incantations, which were not suitable for the ears of the faithful. "Let's end the matter concerning Camore here. Andres?"

"Yes," Andres replied, still keeping his head down, unwilling to let Yang Qiu see his embarrassed state.

Since the other party showed a willingness to compromise, Yang Qiu, being a person who didn't insist on winning arguments, immediately expressed his agreement. "It's best to resolve the misunderstanding. Inspector Lowell, you are welcome to visit Taranthan again when you have the chance."

After all, they would be neighbors in the long term, and Yang Qiu didn't want to strain the relationship with the Holy Legion…

This was the second time Yang Qiu subtly mentioned Taranthan.

Of course, Lowell understood what the black mage was implying, and he looked straight into Yang Qiu's eyes and said, "…Very well."

Although the black-robed ascetic still had doubts about Yang Qiu's disregard for mental and spiritual contamination, the fact that he could create a space saturated with hellish energy without being affected proved that this Nightmare Butcher, who had tangled with the Radiant Sun Church for many years, possessed enough strength to do what he wanted.

As for how Yang Qiu would deal with the civilians he brought to Taranthan and the household guards taken captive… Lowell couldn't be bothered to interfere. If anything, he would just return the funds provided by Viscount Lynn later.

Before taking his troops and leaving, Lowell noticed that the undead, who spoke in an unknown language, were loudly clamoring around the dejected household guards. He couldn't help but be curious and took a few more glances.

"What are they doing?" whispered a white-robed ascetic.

Yang Qiu, who had genuinely respected the ascetics, politely explained, "Oh, nothing much, just an auction."

The white-robed ascetic: "…"

Other soldiers of the Holy Legion: "…"

Lowell: "…"