In the land of Manguk, there is a bone altar.
In the distant past, it was a horrific sin committed by barbaric humans. Traces of routine, chronic slaughter that are difficult to simply dismiss as a massacre. A gruesome altar made by stacking the leftover bones of devoured humans.
Most of the traces of those atrocities still remaining in Manguk have been erased, but a few could not bear to be erased and were used somewhat like tombs. Mugul, a dark sorcerer and the high priest of an evil god, was also at that bone altar.
The sound of leather drums echoed, and the sacrifices stripped of their reason walked slowly. Mugul commanded his underlings and puppets, preparing a forbidden ritual.
Even while preparing the long-awaited ritual, Mugul's mind was not at ease. Leaning on his skull-topped staff, Mugul muttered in dissatisfaction.
"...A ritual performed while on the run is bound to be difficult to succeed."
But there was nothing he could do. For the people from beyond the grasslands were coming for him.
Civilized people fear the barbarians beyond the grasslands, but the barbarians revere those who come from beyond the grasslands. The civilized people who came to this land bearing unheard-of weapons and tools, shocking concepts and ideologies, turned this land upside down in a shocking manner. It reconstructed their lives in a form that was too rapid, irreversible, and impossible to resist.
Among them, the most powerful and shocking existence was precisely Wu Hou Agarta. A heroine who bound together countless tribes that could never have been united, creating the nation of Manguk.
Even though her lineage was severed due to a certain incident, the subtle awe toward her still lurks in every corner of the dark jungle.
Even Mugul, who ruled the jungles of Manguk, could not shake off that eeriness.
"There were auspicious signs. The crows roaming the sky, the waning moon, the welling blood—all foretold the success of the ritual. To the point it would be foolish not to do it."
Muttering to himself, Mugul soon raised his staff and steeled his resolve. If so, then even this obstacle that appeared now must be an auspicious sign. Once he overcame this trial, the desired result would surely follow.
"It had to be done anyway. Only the timing was moved up a little."
Mugul swung his staff. Then, something massive squirmed from the bone altar.
"Come whenever you wish. I will personally deal with you."
However, at that very moment, the Returner and I had already infiltrated the prison of sacrifices.
On the path where the bone altar could be seen in the distance. Instead of immediately attacking the dark sorcerer, the Returner proposed an infiltration. Saying that somewhere here, there would be people captured by the dark sorcerer.
The easiest way to deal with a dark sorcerer is a surprise attack. Like all sorcerers, an unprepared dark sorcerer is exceptionally weak.
However, the wisest method is to first free the sacrifices before attacking.
"This is why I hate dark sorcerers. I didn't specifically come to save them, but I end up saving them anyway."
The Returner grumbled as he easily sliced through the iron bars with Cheonak.
Just as a rich man stacks cash in his vault, a dark sorcerer always keeps sacrifices ready for immediate use. The dark sorcerer had hidden away his sacrifices, which were both his assets and his weakness, but as soon as the Returner looked around with his Seven-Colored Eyes, they were immediately revealed.
Unless one is a callous person who doesn't care whether innocent people die or not, prioritizing the release of the sacrifices is inevitable. And not just out of a sense of justice.
"It's a rational decision. A dark sorcerer's power depends on the number of sacrifices. The more sacrifices we rescue, the more we can reduce the dark sorcerer's combat power."
"I just hate being forced into this situation. The dark sorcerer will obviously have countermeasures in place too."
Still grumbling, the Returner shouted toward the people staying inside.
"Everyone, come out. If you don't want to die."
However, the people trapped in the cell hesitated for a long time. It was because the unexpected rescue was too unfamiliar.
"We're saved!"
Even amidst that, there were some who still had their wits about them. A frail barbarian woman wearing tattered leather clothes approached.
"We're finally saved! Wu Hou, great spirit, mother of all trees! You have sent an incarnation to save us from that evil sorcerer!"
Approaching with a voice full of emotion, she looked back and shouted.
"Everyone, come out! Otherwise, your blood and flesh will be used to quench the sorcerer's thirst!"
At those words, the people who had been lying there weakly began to move unsteadily. As if she were the leader of this place, the sacrifice candidates followed her words and came out of the cell.
Having cut all the ropes and iron chains, the Returner pointed backward with his finger and said.
"Now. First, go somewhere, anywhere outside, and hide. If you stay here, you'll get caught up in the fight and die."
"Where should we go?"
"Somewhere that's not here, for starters."
"Understood. Everyone, find your strength. Even if it's hard, we have to move..."
A woman leading the sacrifices who had lost their reason. What a truly vigorous and courageous figure.
So much so that it was hard to believe she was a sacrifice waiting only for the day she would die.
'Just as Master said. They came to find the sacrifices first.'
The dark sorcerer Lamnu moved the sacrifices while hiding her true intentions.
To a dark sorcerer, sacrifices are both assets and risks. Unlike money, they have legs and run away as they please, and in severe cases, they might even take up arms and attack them.
Therefore, when storing sacrifices, they break their will with fear and terror, and cloud their reason with drugs and incense. That way, they would offer their lives on the altar whenever desired.
Of course, if they break them too severely, their value as sacrifices disappears, so they must manage them moderately. However, catering to human sensitivities is quite a bother. Therefore, a dark sorcerer usually makes their disciple do such chores under the pretext of training.
'I played the role of a faithful and devoted disciple, utterly smitten with him, even hiding my true intentions from my vile Master. Deceiving these fools who came to rescue the sacrifices is much easier.'
Unaware that her mind was being read clearly, Lamnu rejoiced.
'Master ordered me to report immediately, but... there's no need for that. With this many sacrifices, I can conduct the ritual in his stead. While they fight against Master, I'll steal the ritual. The one who will become Ankra's incarnation is me!'
The plan was quite grandiose, but Lamnu had exactly one point of misfortune.
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That I have telepathy? Of course not.
It was that she drew the Returner's suspicion.
"Hmm. The people listen to you well..."
The Returner's pupils briefly flashed in seven colors. The piercing green eyes saw through the grass and rocks, finding a steel key inside Lamnu's clothes.
A prison key made of steel. A sacrifice shouldn't have it. If she had the key, she should have escaped long ago.
"Huh?"
"For starters."
"Kyaaaaah!"
Lamnu was slashed by the Returner's single strike and spilled blood. It would be a bit unfair to say Lamnu was careless. Who would have thought that someone with clairvoyance would happen to find the key.
"It's full of an unpleasant scent. Drugs? Anesthetics? Something like that. The effect isn't strong, though."
"Yes. Because of that, the people probably won't move well even if we tell them to."
"For now, I'll blow away the scent with the wind, so you take the people somewhere. A dark sorcerer is nothing without sacrifices."
"Hehehe. Nothing?"
It was then. Lamnu, who had died spilling blood, slowly stood up in the exact posture she had fallen. Without even placing her hands on the ground, without even holding back the spilling blood. Raising her body as if rewound, Lamnu spoke with a face devoid of vitality.
"You are in the palm of my hand. Did you think I wouldn't have prepared for this much?"
"What, puppetry?"
"Hehe. Naturally. She is a puppet that swallowed my finger. If I weren't going to use her as a puppet, there would be no need to take on a disciple."
Puppetry, where one plants a part of their body and steals control through a certain spell. An extra life gained at the cost of one sacrifice and a body part.
The dark sorcerer Mugul had turned his disciple into a puppet, and must have been watching us from the very beginning.
"So what."
Even though the surprise attack was exposed, the Returner didn't care at all and severed the puppet's limbs. No matter how powerful the main body is, a puppet is a puppet. Just destroy it and be done with it.
Lamnu's body, with its limbs torn off, quickly became unusable. However, the dark sorcerer beyond didn't care much about the damage to the puppet. To the dark sorcerer, it was just a puppet anyway.
"You certainly don't hesitate... But, how about this!"
The dark sorcerer scattered his blood even more and chanted a spell. The spell, which was closer to a primordial scream than a language, turned the spilled blood into a red mist.
The red mist rolled in. The Returner lightly sliced the wind with Cheonak and blocked the mist.
"Just this?"
"I wasn't aiming for you!"
And at the same time, the sacrifices' eyes shot blood and they began to scream. A berserk spell. The sacrifices, who had lost their reason and were soaked in drugs, started to run amok, unable to distinguish one another.
The Returner clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Should I have just hit the dark sorcerer directly? He's quicker on the uptake than I thought."
"It seems he knew we were coming and prepared for it. What should we do? Kill them?"
"Even if we kill them, they'll just become sacrifices for the dark sorcerer. I'll go kill the dark sorcerer's main body as is! You handle this place!"
"Huh? You're leaving me all alone among these countless berserkers?"
"You can do it, right? You don't even die."
"That's different from having to do it!"
"No time!"
Dismissing my words, the Returner immediately raised Jizan upward. The ceiling was split in half by Jizan's sword aura, and starlight leaked into the dim underground prison.
"Handle it!"
The Returner soared upward, leaving me all alone among the countless berserkers. The sacrifices afflicted by the berserk spell approached me as I blankly stared at the sky.
"Haaa... Why are my opponents always like this..."
Drooling, they were full of the thought of tearing me apart with their teeth and nails. No, hostility and instinct that hadn't even developed into thoughts swirled within them.
"Processing them isn't a problem, but."
The problem is that I can't kill these berserkers, but if I let them live, they attack me. What should I do about this?
"...I guess I have to, right?"
One berserker bared its teeth at me. Clack, clack. The clashing teeth tried to devour my body. Scratch and scrape marks appeared all over my body. The berserkers rushed at me like mad dogs to drink the blood I spilled and take my flesh.
Instead of swatting them away, I let the blood flow from my body.
Life inherently seeks to resist external interference, but dark magic blurs that boundary and interferes with the bodies and minds of other humans. Broadly speaking, it's similar in nature to a vampire. A vampire by another's will, perhaps.
Anyway, dark magic is also a human technique. I let the berserkers drink my blood. It was a luxury I could afford because I had regenerative abilities.
The blood I spilled slowly flowed into the bodies of the berserkers.