For there had never been anyone who wandered about seeking only mages to learn magic. Indeed,
even the soldiers exchanged conversation making Damon's eccentric conduct the stuff of gossip.
Unaware of such things, Damon visited taverns regularly every day, wandering about in search of a mage who would pass down magic to him. He simply collapsed anywhere to sleep, and aside from that time, he spent his days doing nothing but roaming taverns.
But he could not easily achieve his goal. First, most of the mages who dropped by the taverns were War Mages who had earned a brief respite and were visiting Feldrian after a long time. Of course, they had nothing but the thought of resting their weary minds and bodies from the battlefield, so they had no interest in an aged foreigner who wanted to learn magic.
"A madman."
The mages who dismissed Damon as a madman and refused to even speak to him were rather the considerate ones. Most of the mages tried to make Damon their laughingstock. They were trying to vent the stress accumulated on the battlefield using Damon as their target.
"Then please use me as your guard."
At the very least, Damon asked the mages to accept him even as a guard. Such was his desire to learn magic. But there was not a single mage who accepted even that.
Principally, a guard was appointed by the commander of the unit to which the mage belonged. Of course, there were cases where the mage chose directly, and in such cases they were mostly accepted, but not a single mage was willing to accept Damon, with his hideous visage, as a guard.
"Just look at your unsightly appearance. Who would want to keep you by their side? I have no intention of changing my guard."
Damon clung desperately to the mage who shook his head. He was begging, having thrown away every shred of pride he had once possessed as a martial artist.
"Then allow me to demonstrate my skill. It does not matter whom among your guards—please have one face me just once."
"Oho. A man who cannot be reasoned with. I am telling you plainly, but I have no intention of changing my guard. So step away now."
As rejections piled up, Damon's will grew weak. Along with it, even his attachment to life was crumbling away without a trace. He turned and walked out, devoid of strength. The mocking gazes of people bore into his back.
"Is learning magic truly this difficult?"
His pride as a martial artist had already been wounded as much as it could be. In the end, he had no choice but to acquire a taste for alcohol to soothe his pride. For in a state of drunken intoxication, he could forget everything.
The revenge for his subordinates. His own ill-fated destiny. To forget entirely the crushing pressure that tormented him without end, he drank incessantly. He emptied out the few silver coins in his possession to do so.
The more he did so, the less frequently he wandered in search of mages. He did not even know that the one month—his destined deadline—was approaching.
A shabby tavern on the verge of collapse. This tavern, with nothing but a few old tables and chairs, was clearly established to target the small change of low-ranking soldiers at a glance. As if to prove it, most of the people drinking inside were dressed in shabby clothing. Those who came here were, of course, mostly people who did not have the money to drink at a proper tavern. In a corner seat of that tavern, someone was now roaring at the top of his lungs, dead drunk.
"Drink. I'm telling you to bring drink."
A hunched back, monstrous appearance. It was none other than Damon.
The man who had wandered endlessly through the streets of Feldrian with the single-minded intent of learning magic was now dead drunk in a tavern. Even at a glance, he looked as though intoxication had risen to the very top of his head. His already hideous visage appeared even more grotesque due to his bloodshot eyes.
An old man who appeared to be the tavern keeper soon approached him. The old man placed a bottle of cheap moonshine he had brought on the table and abruptly thrust his hand out to Damon. By nature, in such dives it was the rule to be paid in advance. Of course, since this was a place that only attracted penniless vagabonds, it was because if they did not do so, there was a worry of being cheated of the drink money. Damon narrowed his bleary eyes as he stared at the outstretched palm.
"Money? M-money... Of course I have it."
As Damon fumbled through his bosom, two coins spilled out into his palm. That was all the fortune remaining to Damon. It had not been much of a salary, but since he had saved it up for nearly a year, Damon had possessed quite a lot of money. He had squandered all that money in just a few days to drink. The old man frowned upon seeing the two coins. A curt voice burst forth immediately after.
"A bottle of drink costs three coins."
"But this is all I have...."
The old man made a displeased expression and turned his body as if to say there was nothing to be done. It was because Damon had already drunk a lot and his face was so fierce that he did not want to cause a scene. However, the old man did not forget to drop a warning as he turned away.
"Drink that and get out. We absolutely refuse freeloaders under any circumstances...."
"Sure. Whatever."
Damon picked up the bottle, put it to his mouth, and gulped it down. A sour taste lingered in his mouth, but he did not mind in the slightest. Because his only goal was to get drunk.
In that regard, this moonshine could be said to be the drink most suited to Damon's pocket situation. Though he would not be able to drink it from now on. The people inside the dive were peeking furtively at him, but Damon was so intoxicated that he could not notice at all.
However, a new wound that had not been there before was engraved on his face. It was a wound he had received a few days ago when he had sought out a mage. The situation from that time was surfacing in Damon's mind before he knew it. It was truly a memory he did not even wish to recall.
"I must refuse. My guards are all first-rate. I have no intention of taking someone like you as a guard."
To the request that if he could not be taught magic, then at least be taken as a guard, the mage refused as if there was no longer any need to even consider it. Faced with yet another inevitable rejection, Damon could not suppress his temper and exploded. The humiliation of all the rejections he had suffered thus far burst forth all at once.
"What is the reason, exactly? Why is it that others are accepted but not me?"
"Huh? Huh? This fellow?"
The guards quickly blocked the flustered mage from the front. But Damon, having lost his reason, charged heedlessly. His tightly clenched fist ruthlessly split the air.
"Kugh."
One guard was struck squarely in the temple and collapsed. Because a vital point had been hit squarely, he could endure no longer. The startled guards drew their weapons and tried to rush at Damon. But they were forced to witness their opponent suddenly rolling on the floor, clutching his head. Of course, this was what happened because the Sevenfold Tendon-Severing Technique activated within Damon.
The Sevenfold Tendon-Severing Technique had activated in Damon without fail because, in the excess of passion, he had forgotten that he had to maintain a state of no-mind and no-self. The guards, who had briefly been bewildered, soon had fire lit in their eyes.
"This bastard?"
"Does he think he can deceive us by playing tricks?"
To avenge their fallen comrade, they mercilessly trampled Damon, who had collapsed and was twitching, and he had no choice but to suffer a beating for nearly half the day.
"Ptooey. A worthless wretch...."
Leaving Damon sprawled out in a mangled state, they swaggered out of the tavern. And Damon was forced to lie ill for a full two days. He had suffered such merciless beatings at the hands of the guards.
After nursing himself back to health, Damon finally gave up on searching for mages. He was no longer able to endure receiving such humiliation.
The only card remaining to Damon was to find Sergei and beg him to open a path to learning magic in exchange for the Asura Commanding Heart Technique. But Damon did not want to do so at all. The reason was that he could never bow and submit to an opponent who once harbored a grudge against him. In the end, because of that, Damon had fallen to become a drunkard, and today as well he was living out his days in intoxication.
"The drink... is gone."
When the bottle became empty, Damon smacked his lips as if in regret. Since the owner had already seen that he had no money, he would never bring more drink. Now he had literally become a penniless beggar. Though he had become someone who had to worry about his next meal starting from this very evening, he felt no attachment.
Given his current situation, the wisest choice for Damon would be to find the Wall Garrison office and receive a new assignment, but he had no desire to do so from the start. Damon was the type who thought it better to starve to death than to live on as nothing but a defense soldier without any hope. Damon rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered out of the tavern. Though the gazes of the few customers fell upon him, he did not care in the least.
"Now it is farewell to this place as well."
Because it was small in scale and did not have many customers, there were unusually few people here who gawked at or disparaged him. This was all the more so because the majority of customers came to get drunk. Thanks to that, it had been a tavern quite to Damon's liking, but now he had become someone who could not even come here anymore.
"Me? To think that Dokgo Seong of the world cannot drink because he has no money...."
As he tried to move his staggering steps, someone suddenly blocked his path. Because of that, Damon nearly collided with him. Having barely steadied himself, Damon flared up in anger.
"Wh-what."
But the shadow that had nearly collided with him stood motionless, merely staring intently at Damon's face. The moment he looked at his appearance, Damon felt as though the alcohol instantly cleared from his head. The one who had nearly collided with him was wearing a robe. In other words, it was someone who appeared to be a mage. The very mage he had searched for so desperately.
"M-mage?"
The figure clad in a black robe observed Damon's face for a while before muttering lowly.
"A drunkard."
A tone that reeked of evident disappointment. Strangely, his voice was extremely hoarse and rough. It was a voice that sounded as though one might hear it while being strangled by the throat. Taken aback by the unexpected situation, Damon hurriedly collected his wits.
"Ah—are you perhaps a mage?"
The figure in black robes, who had been standing briefly, nodded slightly. It was a person whose appearance could not be distinguished at all because he had pulled the robe's edges up to cover himself. From between the robe's edges, that same voice continued to seep out.
"I came because I heard there was a man wandering about saying he would learn magic, but I am greatly disappointed. The very idea that a drunkard could learn magic is absurd."
Having finished speaking, the figure in black robes turned his body as if he had no more regrets. Damon, his mind now sharply clear, rushed without delay and clasped the man's legs. Whether this was truly an opportunity or not, he could not let this man slip away in his current situation.
"Ah, no. I do not normally drink like this."
But the figure in black robes moved his steps without paying any heed despite Damon clinging to him.
"From one, you can know ten. With such a mindset, you can never learn magic."
Damon shook his head fiercely and cried out. It was also a last desperate struggle, unable to end his life like this.
"No, that is not so. I was simply, simply in such agony.... It is solely because my appearance is ugly and my age is great that no one would teach me magic. So please...."
The moment those words ended, the black-robed figure's steps halted firmly. He stopped in that spot and turned his head to scrutinize Damon's face. Thinking this was the moment, Damon prostrated himself flat on the spot.
"Please, give me a chance. I have a reason why I must learn magic no matter what happens. Even if I must wager my life, I must learn magic, so please...."
The black-robed figure, who had been listening silently, soon nodded his head as if he had decided something. Unlike other mages, he did not utter a single word asking for the reason why Damon had to learn magic.
"Follow me."
The black-robed figure who uttered a brief word moved off at once. Damon, who thought this was a blessing in disguise, followed behind him without delay.
After walking for quite some time, the place where the black-robed figure arrived was a tavern that appeared to be of considerable size.
In Trubenia, the majority of taverns were jointly operated with inns. The first floor was usually a restaurant-cum-tavern, and from the second floor up they established inns for travelers to stay. The black-robed figure who entered the tavern climbed to the second floor without hesitation, and Damon hurriedly followed behind him. Just then, someone abruptly appeared and blocked his path. Soon after, a rough voice that seemed to growl followed.
"What? This bastard came again?"
Damon's face contorted as he glanced back.