"Everyone...hand over your crystals!"
"Delay... and die."
The voice was like ice, piercing and cold, carrying the distinctive authority of a mage and an aura of power so dense it seemed to stifle the air.
It echoed through every corner of the magic crystal mine.
Driven forward, the ragged laborers were herded out of the mine one by one, moving like listless corpses. Among them was David Miller, his hand clenched around four magic crystals.
His face was as ashen as the others, but a sharp, bright light flickered deep within his eyes.
Twenty-eight…
A full twenty-eight magic crystals!
David's steps carried a suppressed urgency.
From yesterday until tonight, he had mined twenty-eight crystals in total—a terrifying, nearly impossible pace.
The extra crystals, along with the two artifacts from Earth year 3026, were now securely stored inside his Black Dragon Ring.
Yes—David had discovered the Black Dragon Ring could do more than communicate with Earth. It also served as storage space, much like a mage's spatial ring.
Even with my current strength and standing, I could never openly own a spatial ring…
But… the storage within this Black Dragon Ring is just as capable as a standard one.
He recalled the boundless, mysterious expanse that had unfolded in his mind when he channeled magic into the ring.
His fist tightened instinctively.
The ring's storage function had come at exactly the right moment—making everything he needed to do far easier.
"Form a line. Pass before the scanner—one at a time."
"No shoving. If your quota is short, do not queue. Move to the left. Now."
The bone-chilling voice cut through the damp air once more. David looked up to see a lean, sharp-featured man in white robes—a mage whose shadowed eyes swept over the miners filing out of the tunnels. Suspended before him hovered a palm-sized magical mirror, its surface rippling with pale light as it scanned each laborer who passed.
"Mercy, Master Mage! Spare me!"
"One more day—grant me one more day! I'm only one crystal short! Just one!"
"Next time—I'll bring five next time, I swear it! Master Mage, please!"
Just as David was easing past the mirror, a broad-faced laborer with a seemingly honest look threw himself at the feet of the mage. His pleas tore through the cavern, raw with despair.
"Oh? One short?"
The mage's reply was almost gentle.
"That's alright. One is nothing…"
"You can repay it in your next life."
Before the last word had faded, a streak of murky energy shot from the mage's staff.
Swish—
The dark light spiraled once in the air before plunging straight into the laborer's throat.
Thud.
In the next heartbeat, the man's head burst apart.
The headless body crumpled heavily to the stone. A wave of pure terror rippled through the remaining miners. No one made a sound. Each one lowered their head further, praying silently they would not be next.
"Good. The flesh should not be wasted. And the soul—best taken while it's still warm."
The mage's eyes passed over the corpse as though surveying butchered livestock. No trace of pity showed on his face—only a faint, chilling eagerness. With a flick of his staff, both the body and the pale, struggling soul were drawn into the weapon itself.
Only then did Silvainoth turn back to the crowd, his voice flat and bored.
"Keep moving. No delays. Anyone short of quota—step to the left now."
"Those who met it… pass the mirror and stand on the right."
Hearing Silvainoth's tone, David's expression didn't change, but the chill inside him deepened. A swell of nausea rose in his throat; his fingers and feet went cold. He made himself look away, yet his gaze kept slipping back to the dark patch on the ground. Just as quickly, he forced the disgust down, locking it behind a wall of will.
Stay calm. You have to stay calm.
This is the world of magic. This is how it truly is.
Here, killing is as easy as breathing. It's you or them.
If he hadn't awakened the Black Dragon Ring last night… he'd be the one lying there now.
David released a long, slow breath.
He forced the tension from his shoulders, steadied himself, and placed his four magic crystals into the bamboo basket beneath the scanning mirror before turning toward the right.
He had taken only a few steps when that icy voice sliced through the air, stopping him cold.
"You. Wait."
David froze, then slowly turned to meet Silvainoth's gaze—a look of sharp, scrutinizing interest.
"You seem… slight. And yet you met the quota?"
"Reporting to the Mage," David replied, keeping his head respectfully lowered, his voice carefully even, "I was fortunate today. I stumbled upon a vein of crystals that were… loosely formed."
Silvainoth fell silent, his eyes locked on David for a stretch of time that felt unnaturally long. Finally, a thin, ambiguous smile touched his lips.
"Fortunate… How very fortunate."
"Let us hope your luck serves you just as well… next time."
With a low, humorless chuckle, Silvainoth looked away, as though dismissing the matter—for now.
David slipped quietly to the back of the group. His eyes were lowered, but behind them, his mind churned.
Anyone captured by the Shadow Council was granted a few months to grasp magic's basics. Only those who reached the level of a Two-Star Apprentice in that time could hope to meet the brutal mining quotas. Those who failed…
The Council had no use for the weak. It was routine for half a new intake to be purged after their first descent into the pits. David couldn't shake the conviction that this was by design.
His own innate talent was poor, and fortune had never smiled on him. Unlike some, he had failed to break through to the Second Star. That failure marked him, making him conspicuously vulnerable among the laborers.
Silvainoth is a full Formal Mage of the Shadow Council, the overseer of this mine. His artifacts are terrifying. That mirror can see through cloth and flesh—detecting any crystal hidden on a person's body.
Thank whatever powers watch over me that it cannot pierce the Black Dragon Ring.
The Shadow Council viewed laborers as expendable tools. Only by attaining the rank of Formal Mage within their hierarchy could one buy a sliver of security.
For him, Silvainoth was not just an overseer—he was a direct and mortal threat.
The next shift was in seven days. If a One-Star Apprentice kept delivering a full quota every time… suspicion would inevitably fall on him. Silvainoth would come.
As the line shuffled forward, David's thoughts raced ahead. Escape was impossible; the Council's reach was too vast. For now, only one path offered a chance at survival: he had to become a Formal Mage recognized by the Shadow Council itself.
"Before, I had nothing—no means, no resources, no support. In the Shadow Council, wits alone meant nothing."
"Becoming one of their Formal Mages seemed impossible…"
"But now I possess more than twenty magic crystals. Paths are opening."
More importantly…
"Now I have backing."
"The Black Dragon Ring is my greatest asset. Earth is my foundation."
"I must use my biggest advantage. Yes—my nation stands behind me."
The thought steadied him, a current of resolve cutting through the fear. A vast nation, advanced in both military and science, was his support. He had no cause for doubt, no reason to question the strength at his back.
Other transmigrators might have a single cheat.
He had an entire civilization.
A plan, sharp and clear, began to take shape in David's mind.
"Next time I make contact, it can't just be a plea for aid. I must offer something in return—intelligence: the Shadow Council's laws, Silvainoth's abilities, the nature of magic crystals…"
"And my objective: to advance and become a Formal Mage."