REAPER SCANS
I Became the Genius Bastard of a Noble Dark Clan
[Translator – Jreaming]
[Proofreader – echo]
Chapter 11
Despite being a ghost, the banshee possessed an extraordinary beauty. Her face was that of an innocent young girl and she was clad in a maid uniform, a detail that would undoubtedly appeal to certain tastes. But what good was that, really? She was a ghost—and not just any ghost, but a grim and malevolent one.
“…I came to read books."
[Yes… I shall guide you. What kind… might you… desire?]
The library was a treasure trove of dark magic books. Reading the forbidden books here, or even having one in one’s possession, would be grounds for execution in the Dominion of Light.
[Blood magic? Destruction studies? Summoning studies? Curse studies? Ah… we don’t have books related to necromancy.]
Necromancy. The dark magic of controlling the undead.
That was a shame, Chris thought. Necromancy could be called the piece de resistance of dark magic. It was power enough to raise an army all by oneself!
‘After all, the Undead Magic Clan are the experts in manipulating the undead, and they’re favored even among the twelve noble magic clans of the empire.’
The Undead Magic Clan had strict rules against revealing their necromantic knowledge to outsiders. Chatty Shadow from the Hero's Party had once informed him that said rules were why it was so challenging to find any books on necromancy, even within the Magic Empire.
"Are there books on other types of magic?"
[We have all the basics. Ah… there are… no books on… contracts with… demons,] the banshee clarified. [The Dark Magic Clan… prohibits contracting… with demons, after all.]
Chris nodded in understanding, already aware that was the case. He had to admit to some surprise when he first learned contracts with demons were largely forbidden even within the Magic Empire.
'The Magic Empire seeks the power of darkness, not the worship of evil.'
The two were altogether different. The Magic Empire valued the so-called survival of the fittest, achieved through the power of darkness. Much of what was deemed “evil” by external societies was also viewed as such within the Magic Empire, though the standards did vary on occasion. Thus, contracts with demons were taboo.
The rationale was straightforward: demons were purveyors of evil. They thrived on greed, murder, human sacrifice, and the suffering of others.
'The issue is that the Magic Empire hasn't fully outlawed these demonic contracts.'
While taboo and generally frowned upon, contracts of that nature weren’t explicitly prohibited, per se, but rather viewed as a matter of personal freedom. Consequently, there were fiends who, whether knowingly or unknowingly, entered into pacts with a demon. When those fiends then became the controlling power within the Magic Empire, it resulted in the Great War, the conflict with the Dominion of Light that would one day come to pass.
If Chris wanted to stop the fiends who had accepted the demon’s values and sought to end the world, he would have to stand at the zenith of the Magic Empire.
'But that's a concern for another day. First, I need to seize control of the Dark Magic Clan.'
The banshee’s maid dress rustled eerily as she whispered, [What… type of magic… would you like to focus on? Since it’s your first time… a variety… for now…?]
That was the classic method. Even the mages of the Alliance had mastered a variety of 2-star magics before choosing a specialty from 3-stars and beyond. Naturally, Chris had considered adhering to this conventional approach, but…
"I need to learn a specific dark magic spell first. Bring me the book I told you about."
The banshee was taken aback by his words. [But… that book is…?]
"What? Aren’t I allowed to read any book here?"
[You are, but…] Her voice wavered as she asked, [It is a 4-star dark magic… is it not?]
4-star! Yes, indeed, it was the status also known as Prime.
The boy had requested a specialized book meant for experts even though he had yet to master the basics.
[It would be… hard for you to even understand.]
"No, I can understand it. I’m actually a genius,” Chris explained.
The banshee was silent for a moment.
How to describe it… Her expression seemed to Chris to say something along the lines of, ‘My young master is… so cute, I could gobble him up.’
[Oh ho… my young master… is not only magnificent… but a genius as well. Truly… splendid.]
“Shush, just hurry and get it for me. I need it.”
[…Yes, alright. Pardon me for asking… but… why do you seek such a spell?]
Chris thought for a moment and answered, “To catch a rat.”
A rat. Specifically, the one who gave him a Dreamstone while he was in the Punishment Cave.
Someone within the house of Count Kazar wanted him to be ruined. It was about time that he caught that rat.
“This spell would be perfect for that.”
Chris looked at the title of the book the banshee brought him.
The Binding Seal
The book was notorious in the Dominion of Light because when certain conditions were met, the dark magic taught within would allow someone to control the opponent as if they were a slave.
A few days later, after seeing how much Chris had accomplished, the banshee was left in utter astonishment.
* * *
Reaper Scans
Translator – Jreaming
Proofreader – echo
Join our discord for updates on releases!
https://discord.gg/reaperscans
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Time had drifted by since then.
Chris's days had fallen into a simple rhythm. During the day, he would head to the training grounds to build up his physical strength. At night, he would immerse himself in books about dark magic in the library.
“Physical strength is the foundation of a nation's power! To grow strong, one must train to enhance their basic stamina… Damn, doing this at double intensity is freaking difficult,” he mumbled to himself.
Chris was a lazy genius. He detested laborious tasks that caused him to perspire so profusely. Yet even for a genius like him, the traditional method of training was the best way to boost stamina.
'I could master the basic principles of swordsmanship just by observing others, but… there are no shortcuts to building strength and stamina. Damn it, I should just focus on the wealth and glory that await me in the future. Wealth and glory, wealth and glory!'
As fatigue began to take its toll, his face hardened, making him appear particularly arrogant and mean.
The fiends watched in fascination.
“Our scoundrel young master really seems to have changed.”
“How long has it been? About half a month?”
“His physique seems to have improved.”
They had been mistaken in thinking he would revert to his old, worthless self. The boy had not missed a single day of training, made all the more evident by his progress. When he first stepped onto the training grounds, his body was weak from his previous, indulgent lifestyle. However, with time, he had gained muscle and looked significantly healthier. His unyielding arrogance, especially apparent during his relentless double-time pacing, was particularly striking.
Eagerness strummed through them even then. How far would the boy go, they wondered? Perhaps this generation of successors would bring about remarkable change after all.
By now, everyone was aware of his exceptional abilities. If he did not revert to his old, rogue-like behavior and remained committed to his current path, he could potentially upend the line of succession. Christian might even succeed Count Kazar, rather than the designated successor, Thern.
Yes, that could very well be why Young Lord Thern had taken to training even harder than before. Since his crushing defeat at the hands of his older brother, Thern had remained silent and wholly focused on his training.
Chris noticed their speculative assessment of him and couldn't help but smirk.
'Succeed Count Kazar? I have no interest in such trivial matters.'
To the eyes of the common folk, the house of Count Kazar appeared to be a grand and amazing family. However, to him, it fell far too short of the mark. His sights were set on the main house of the Dark Magic Clan, and he had every intention of leaving the responsibilities of the branch family to Thern, provided Thern didn't cause any trouble.
‘Could Thern have been the one to mess with me?’ Chris’s eyes narrowed at the thought. It didn’t look that way from what he saw. Thern hardly seemed like the type to concoct devious ploys behind someone’s back. But one could never know. After all, his little brother Thern would get the most out of the situation if he were to return to being a mess.
‘Well, we’ll see soon enough.’
Chris looked around him, sensing amicable gazes resting on him, unlike before. Everyone seemed to have acknowledged him—that the bastard had changed, or at least was trying to change.
The time was ripe.
At all once, Chris stopped training.
A fiend came up to him and asked in a gentle tone, “Young Master, are you heading back? You are leaving earlier than usual today.”
“I’ve had enough of this shit.”
The eyes of the fiend grew wide. “Pardon?”
“I am fed up with doing this. It’s been days. I smell like sweat, feel dirty, and it is irritating me—I can’t do it anymore. I’ve had enough.”
Then he raised his arm and dropped something from his hand. It was the wooden sword he had used for half a month. It thunked and toppled to the floor, where it lay sprawled for all to see.
“Y-Young Master?!”
It didn’t matter that the sword was only meant for training. To throw away the weapon… For fiends who lived for honor, it was something one must never do.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What?” Chris’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “Who are you lowly things to tell me what I can and cannot do?”
The tension spiked in the training ground as shock and appall flashed across the onlookers’ expressions.
“Why? Did you really think I had changed?” he taunted. “I merely put on an act, working diligently for a few days to feign remorse for my past deeds. That should be enough.”
Chris could sense the piercing gaze of his younger brother, Thern, staring from a distance. Regardless, he looked around in a show of outright mockery for everyone present and then exited the training grounds.
Upon his return to the mansion, he summoned the butler. The half-vampire butler, Cox, hurried to his side.
“Did you call for me, Young Master?”
“Bring me some liquor.”
“…Pardon?”
“Are you deaf?! I asked for liquor! Now!”
Son of a count or not, it was extremely rude to yell at a butler in such a manner. The sudden outburst sent a deep red rushing to the butler's face, but that was only for a moment. The half-vampire hurried to bow.
“O-Of course. I will do as you command.”
With that, the butler made quick work of vanishing. Chris watched him go, his gaze intense and calculating.
'He's the most suspicious of them all.'
Chris had intentionally been rude to gauge the butler's reaction. For a fleeting moment, various emotions flitted across the butler's eyes. At first, there had been anger and resultant prudence in response to his rude behavior, as might be expected. However, he didn't miss that one faint emotion lurking deep within the butler's eyes.
It was joy.
Why had the butler been pleased with Chris's actions just now?
Chris grinned. ‘I’ll find out soon enough.’
That was how Chris laid his trap, a scheme to catch the rat that was nibbling at the foundations of the house of Count Kazar.
* * *
The news that Christian had reverted to his old, useless ways spread like wildfire through the mansion. The servants could only shake their heads in disappointment, as if they had known all along they should have expected as much.
"I knew it. His good behavior barely lasted half a month."
"Half a month? That's surprisingly long."
"We were fools to place our trust in him."
The fiends of the Black Swamp Knights reacted even more fiercely. They had genuinely bought into his transformation, so the betrayal infuriated them even more.
“To think I believed someone like him would change! I must have been blind.”
“That son of a bitch. If he dares to step foot in the training grounds again…”
“If he comes near the training grounds, we won't let him off that easy.”
However, one person was more enraged than any other at that moment: his father, Count Kazar.
“You bastard!”
* * *
Reaper Scans
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