Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage

Several days had passed. Given that Henry had decided to merely monitor Arthus, he had drawn a magic circle that would allow him to see into the underground prison from afar. With that, Henry had returned to his daily life and continued to watch Arthus.

He couldn’t even tell how many times Arthus had been raped. After ten times, Henry was starting to feel sorry for him, but he tried his best not to offer him any sympathy. Given what Arthus had done, he deserved to be raped at least a hundred times more.

In the meantime, Henry returned to building the unfinished palace and devoted all his energy to founding the empire. Even though it would be wise to find more about Arthus and his past, that was more of personal curiosity for Henry. The empire was far more important, as Henry was going to be part of it, and in turn, it was going to be part of him.

Given that this was his second chance, Henry planned to create a better empire than before. As a result, Lindbergh was established as the capital of the empire far more quickly than the last time.

There was a Magic Spire built next to the imperial palace. And at the top, just like with the previous spires, Henry had built his own personal laboratory. And inside, there were notes scattered across its walls, every single one of them containing necessary information for founding the empire.

“This is so annoying,” Henry muttered as he looked at the notes.

Establishing a nation wasn’t difficult for Henry; he had accomplished it before and with great success. The issue was that he felt annoyed and lazy. There were many things to do, too many in fact.

Henry shook his head, wondering just how he had managed to do all those things on his own before.

But of course, he wasn’t planning to pass the buck just because he found the work troublesome. He had made this decision himself, and he was going to push through.

Henry brushed back the hair from the forehead and sighed.

‘Hmm… What to do…’

The proclamation of the new nation was just around the corner, and people from all over the continent were flocking to the capital. Essential national facilities for daily life, like the Public Security Bureau and the Taxation Bureau were gradually being set up to manage all those people.

Of course, the formation of the Cabinet was also underway. It had already been organized into several branches, with key positions filled by Henry’s colleagues. However, one issue, and perhaps the most critical one, remained unresolved: the matter of deciding the state religion.

“The state religion, huh…”

When Henry established the Kingdom of Morris, he chose not to designate an official state religion, partly because he hadn’t received much help from other religions against Arthus apart from the Church of Peace.

Moreover, at that time, the majority of the remaining human population had already deified Henry and worshiped him as a god. Thus, in reality, there hadn’t been any room for other religions to have a stand in his kingdom.

However, the situation was a bit different for the upcoming empire. The previous empire had designated the Church of Peace, led by Ross Borgia I, as the state religion. That decision had come naturally, as Ross had emerged victorious in the last religious war, which had elevated the Church of Peace as the most powerful church out there.

Moreover, Irene’s worshipers had also participated in the fight against the Demon King, which had obviously increased the popularity of the Church of Peace.

However, Henry remembered what fate would await the Church of Peace. Eventually, Ross Borgia I would be blinded by greed and side with Arthus. Of course, this time, Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He would prevent all of that by completely taking Arthus out of the picture.

Having witnessed how opportunistic Arthus really was, Henry wouldn’t hesitate to push him into obscurity.

‘Hmm, what should I do?’

Henry knew that if he had to choose a religion, it had to be the Church of Peace, but he just couldn’t convince himself. At this point in time, Saint Irenae still wasn’t in the picture, which meant that there was no one else to replace Ross.

After contemplating for a while and hitting a brick wall, Henry decided to postpone the decision.

But then…

‘Hmm?’

The magic circle he had set up to monitor Arthus reacted.

‘I guess they’re raping him again.’

Henry assumed that the same thing had happened, as the past few days had followed the same routine. But still, he had to check just in case something unexpected happened.

He immediately closed his eyes and saw the image the magic circle was trying to show him. And sure enough, something was different.

‘A new face?’

After several days of surveillance, Henry had learned the number of hunters and their names. However, he was now intrigued by an unfamiliar face.

Henry focused and listened to their conversation.

- … So you’re saying that all these guys here are demihumans?

- Yes, sir. And the most outstanding one is this guy.

Kin confidently presented Arthus to the mysterious fellow. Henry couldn’t believe how shameless Kin was for presenting Arthus as if he had taken good care of him. He had abused him just for not taking his pills.

- This guy is a descendant of the famous dragonborns.

- Dragonborn?

- Yes, sir! Dragonborns are the distant descendants of dragons. They’re known to be a crossbreed between dragons and humans. Take a look at him. Isn’t he special? This guy possesses stronger magical powers than humans, special abilities, and a never-aging, beautiful appearance.

Kin confidently explained what Arthus was worth. At this, the mysterious fellow smiled, and Henry did the same.

“He’s a dragonborn?”

Just as Kin had explained, dragonborns were a crossbreed between humans and dragons, and thanks to their dragon blood, they retained a small fraction of their ancestor’s powers.

Henry had heard of that species before, but they were so rare that this was his first time knowingly seeing one. He couldn’t believe that Arthus was actually a dragonborn. If Kin was indeed telling the truth, this was quite the discovery.

The mysterious man, who seemed to be a buyer, asked for more details.

- Hmm, I get his appearance and magic… But what’s his special ability?

- Let’s see, I’ll try to explain as simply as possible. Their special ability is… Unique to them. It’s not magic, but they have the power to become intangible, and they can use that both for defensive and offensive purposes.

- Woah, they can really do that?

- Yes!

- Well then, I guess I’ll have to see this power for myself!

- As in… right now, sir?

- Of course. For all I know, you could be lying to me. Besides, don’t you think I’d be more willing to buy these demihumans if I had the peace of mind that I can protect myself against their abilities?

- Indeed. You’re absolutely right, sir.

Kin nodded at the customer’s reasonable demand, realizing that he wasn’t dealing with some rich fool. In order to showcase Arthus’ abilities to his customer, Kin signaled Ren and Dune, and the two hurriedly prepared for a demonstration.

They took off Arthus’ restraints one after another, and every time one came off, everyone could see a bit more of Arthus’ dark, gloomy face. But despite everything, his face was still as beautiful as ever, as his dragonborn blood prevented him from ever losing his youthful beauty.

“He still looks like that after being tortured and surviving only on supplements for several days…? Talk about being blessed,” Henry muttered to himself.

He had always considered Arthus handsome, but seeing his face again reminded him just how striking his appearance was.

Before Henry knew it, Arthus only had cuffs on his wrists and ankles. When Ren and Dune took off his eye mask, he glared at the four men as though he wanted to rip their throats out.

Ren and Dune left the gag in place to avoid Arthus saying something troublesome. Then, Kin approached Arthus and whispered to him.

- The person in front of you will soon be your master. Show him what you’re capable of right now. If you don't…

Kin then poked Arthus in his bottom.

- You know, right?

Kin flashed Arthus a wicked smile as he looked him in the eye. Seeing his face, Henry got goosebumps. Arthus was no different, but the venom in his eyes grew more intense as he stared back at Kin.

However, Kin maintained a calm expression, as if Arthus’ eyes meant nothing to him. Ren and Dune, who were behind the customer, looked just as composed.

After a few moments, Arthus’ silver hair swayed like seaweed in the ocean.

- Oh, it’s about to happen, sir!

Kin confidently assured his customer that he would get his demonstration, but then, he felt an intense pressure on his neck and suddenly started floating.

- Cough, cough! Hey!

Kin’s face turned blue and he let out a dying groan. Seeing this, Ren hurriedly intervened.

- Mahova!

Zap!

Following Ren’s command, blue sparks flew from Arthus, and Kin fell down.

- Cough, cough! You son of a bitch!

Kin, unable to hold in his anger, started kicking Arthus, but Dune quickly stopped him.

- Kin! Calm down! The customer’s watching!

Despite Dune's attempts to restrain him, Kin only calmed down after delivering a few more kicks. He then grabbed Arthus by the head and whispered an ominous warning into his ear.

- I’ll deal with you later.

Kin then threw Arthus on the ground.

The customer, bewildered by the unexpected event, asked for an explanation.

- What just happened?

- Sigh… As you’ve just seen, the dragonborn tried to resist, but we were able to bring it down by inflicting pain with the special cuffs we have on him.

- What’s the risk of him escaping?

- Oh, rest assured there’s no escape for him, sir.

Ren quickly explained how safe the cuffs were before the customer got cold feet and changed his mind.

The customer was listening attentively and nodding, which caused Arthus to be even more furious. However, he didn’t have any strength left in him to do anything. The best he could do was bite his lips in anger.

Arthus was furious at his current state, the anger causing him to shake uncontrollably. He felt like he was shedding tears of blood.

He was frustrated because ever since those bastards had captured him, he hadn’t been able to do anything because of those god-forsaken shackles. Realizing just how powerless he was, he bit his lip even harder, drawing blood.

He wanted to kill every single one of them. He wanted to kill them so badly that he was willing to sell his soul to the Devil to do it. His fingers trembled in fury, and he was reaching his limit. He felt that he was about to vomit all the disgust and resentment that had welled up in his heart.

Then suddenly…

Tear!

The sound of something metallic breaking echoed in the underground dungeon. Arthus was steaming with anger, his senses sharper than his fury.

Tear!

The same sound echoed again. Arthus was desperate to get rid of those disgusting cuffs. He would tear his flesh and break his bones if he had to.

And eventually…

Clank, clank!

The cuffs on his wrists and ankles finally broke apart, flying left and right as though they had exploded. The four immediately turned their gazes toward Arthus.

- What the fuck?!

As soon as the cuffs went flying, Kin quickly took notice and rushed toward Arthus. However, Arthus, filled with boiling hatred, was a step faster.

- Khah! Ghaaa!

Arthus’ eyes were blazing, far more fierce than before. He stood up with his bony legs that seemed like they were going to break any moment. His eyes were bloodshot red, and part of his lower lip was hanging as he had bit too hard on it.

But although his body was broken, his mind was clearer than anyone else. Magic played little to no effect on a dragonborn’s abilities. Rather, it was mental strength and emotions that fueled their power.

And so, with the anger that boiled within Arthus, he was the strongest he had ever been in his life.

- DIE!!!

Arthus let out an ear-piercing, monstrous cry. Then, blood splattered before him.

Crack!

An eerie sound echoed through the underground prison, and blood sprayed in four different directions.

Arthus had done it. His strong will to live had helped him break free from the seemingly indestructible cuffs and kill his capturers. His fingers trembled as he looked at the four corpses with their heads exploded. The sight made him ecstatic.

However, when Arthus finally came to his senses, he realized there was something he had to do. He proceeded to release all the other demihumans along with Mordred, another dragonborn.

“Th-thank you…!”

The other demihumans thanked Arthus with heartfelt tears for giving them back their freedom. However, Arthus wasn’t releasing them out of righteousness.

“You too! Die!”

Crack!

The same eerie sound echoed once again, and the heads of a few other demihumans exploded. Arthus cupped his hands to drink their blood, hoping to get even the slightest bit of mana from it.

Arthus didn’t want to drink filthy human blood, so he chose the second best option: the blood of the dead demihumans.

Witnessing the one-sided massacre, the other demihumans almost wanted to go back into their cells. Even though Arthus didn’t plan to drink everyone’s blood, he killed everyone in sight in order to release the anger that had bottled up in him all this time.

And just like that, all the other demihumans were met with a brutal fate. Of course, Arthus had spared Mordred, given that he was a dragonborn just like him.

Mordred knelt in front of a puddle of blood and drank greedily from it.

Thud.

Arthus collapsed to the ground, and his vision became blurry. It was only natural, given that he had been tortured for days on end. Besides, he had never used that much power before, so it made sense that he no longer had the stamina to keep himself together.

Mordred was also exhausted, even though he hadn’t been what Arthus had been through. In any case, he believed that everything would be fine after a deep sleep.

The two dragonborns lay on the ground with their eyes closed. They both wore a wicked smile, knowing in their half-conscious state that they were finally free.

But at that moment…

“Tsk, tsk… I knew it.”

They heard an unfamiliar voice through their fading consciousness.

It was none other than Henry.

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