The entire upper echelon of North Shire was caught up in undercurrents of intrigue over a bottle of Moonlight Wine. Meanwhile, Donald, the man behind it all and the wine's maker, had just finished copying books and was preparing to take a carriage back to his estate.
As he left the club and was about to climb into the carriage, a commoner's child suddenly came running and bumped into him.
Donald immediately went on alert. Whether or not the child was an assassin, he cast Mage Armor to protect himself. Movies and novels had described situations like this before: the target dismissed a child as harmless and paid for his carelessness with his life. After the last assassination attempt, he had become even more vigilant about his surroundings.
But before the child could reach Donald, his loyal attendant George intercepted him.
The child glared angrily at George, then quietly tossed a bundle of something at Donald's feet before turning and running off without looking back.
Donald warily scanned his surroundings. No one seemed to be paying attention to him, and when he spread his spiritual power across the nearby houses, he found no sign of a sniper.
Puzzled, he picked up the object the child had thrown. It turned out to be a piece of parchment crumpled into a ball.
Once inside the carriage, Donald unfolded the parchment. A small, narrow strip bore a single line of tiny writing.
"Macbeth. Assassination. Beware of warlocks and mages!"
Those were the only thirteen words. The note was signed Black Jack.
Donald quickly grasped what the message meant.
"So the old man Macbeth was behind the last assassination attempt?"
"And 'beware of warlocks and mages'—could it be that person still hasn't given up and wants me dead? Have they sent a warlock and a mage this time?"
"Who could it be?"
Once Donald had figured out the general meaning of the note, he grew even more puzzled and intensely curious about the person who had sent it.
He had never heard the name before, but he committed it to memory. Someday, he would have to meet this person and ask what he meant by it.
Donald had only learned about warlocks from a book in the club's library. Apparently, they were a group of people who inherited supernatural bloodlines. His impression of them came from the book's descriptions of their evil, uncanny innate magic, as well as their ability to summon and control demonic creatures. He knew little about their actual strength.
So, naturally, he went to his teacher, Messer, with his questions.
When the old mage heard his apprentice mention warlocks, his brows furrowed. He said worriedly,
"Warlocks? North Shire hasn't seen one of those in over a decade. Those reclusive, evil folk prefer to operate in the populous, lawless regions of the continent's south. They're said to collect the souls of the living and trade them to demons!"
According to the old mage, there were quite a few unconventional spellcasting professions outside the four standard mage classes. These included sorcerers, innate spellcasters who wielded the power of their bloodlines; Druids, who worshiped the forces of nature; and necromancers, who controlled undead beings.
Warlocks were a branch of sorcerers, but unlike sorcerers, who simply inherited powerful bloodlines, they inherited power rooted more deeply in the soul. They belonged to the evil, chaotic alignment, and even sought power by drawing on powerful evil and chaotic beings from beyond the mortal world, such as demons.
"If it's a warlock, you'll need to be careful. A lone warlock may not be as versatile as a mage, and they're better at spells that control the mind than powerful attacks, but they can still wield devastating hellfire. Many warlocks also like to command creatures such as demons, so they're more powerful than they appear!"
Unlike spellcasters such as priests and mages, warlocks didn't need any external aids—not gestures, incantations, or prior prayers, nor equipment such as staves that could amplify the effects of their magic. They could unleash powerful magic through sheer will, combined with the power of their bloodlines.
With their powerful will and control over the mind, warlocks could use their innate magic to carry out covert operations, control weak-willed souls, or destroy their enemies outright with hellfire.
"Unlike mages, warlocks don't need to spend much time meditating. Instead, they gather the wild magical power flowing through their souls to attack, defend, or achieve other effects. This ability is called wicked arts. Wicked arts are a spell-like ability, and like spells, they can be interrupted. If a warlock is struck while using them, they must rely on their willpower and concentration to keep the current ability going. But warlocks usually take precautions to avoid being attacked in the first place."
"The good news is that spell resistance works against wicked arts. In other words, equipment and other methods that defend against spells also work against most wicked arts, so you'll need to make some preparations!"
After hearing his teacher's explanation, Donald had gained a much deeper understanding of warlocks. He knew they didn't cast spells themselves; instead, they used spell-like abilities, much like monsters. These special techniques, which drew on their control of their own minds and bloodline power, were called wicked arts. By sacrificing flexibility and versatility, warlocks were better suited to prolonged combat than mages or sorcerers. They excelled at ambushes and trickery, rather than facing enemies head-on or smashing through their defenses with sheer force.
Even more frightening, with very few exceptions among kind or neutral warlocks, most warlocks never worshiped true gods or demon kings. They had direct knowledge of supernatural powers. Evil warlocks tried to please brutal, bloodthirsty dark gods or certain ancient, malevolent beings through sacrifices in exchange for power. Kind warlocks, though they couldn't deny the power in their blood, chose to worship deities who didn't reject them and drew strength from their faith to fight the twisted, dark side of their souls.
Outside of a demonic invasion, demons appearing in the mortal world should have been summoned. Though summoning them was somewhat different from a Summoner's interplanar summoning, Donald was sure no one could match him when it came to summoning. He doubted that his opponent's costs and limits on the number of times they could summon demons were any lower than those of his Book of Truth.
At last, when Donald asked about the name on the note, the old mage said with some puzzlement,
"Black Jack? That name sounds unfamiliar. There are plenty of people named Jack, but I can't think of many who are powerful or belong to an organization. There is a band of thieves around North Shire that's made quite a name for itself in the past couple of years. I think its leader is called something like that. Could the person who sent the note be the leader of the Black Knight Brotherhood—Black Knight Jack?"
The situation was clearly beyond the old mage's control. But as the leader of the largest—and only—mage organization in North Shire, Messer had his own channels for finding answers.
"Leave this to me. I'll assign mages from the club to investigate. When you get home, just focus on your training!"
"Warlocks generally shouldn't come straight to your door, but you still need to be careful, Donald. I think we should ask two mages to stay at your estate for a few days!"
Donald's face lit up.
"That would be wonderful! I've been worried about the estate's security. Please take care of it, Teacher. I'll pay double whatever it costs!"
"No need to pay. Just treat them well. Your Moonlight Wine is very popular with the mages, after all! I'll see which of the club's high Bronze-ranked mages are free over the next few days. It's unlikely your opponent will send anyone of Silver rank."
"Thank you, Teacher!"
Donald's respect for his teacher grew even more. Aside from Code, his steward, whom he considered family, Messer was the person he felt closest to in this world.
The old mage smiled. "We're old friends. They'll do me this small favor."
"Remember, whenever you go out, bring enough guards and stay alert. Be careful!"
The old mage then offered him some advice about his training and repeated his warnings several times before finally letting Donald return to the estate.
The conversation had put Donald more at ease. The identity of the unknown enemy was still a mystery, but he had learned about warlocks, wicked arts, demons, the Black Knight Brotherhood, and the name Black Jack.
In truth, he wasn't too worried about his own safety. What troubled him was the unknown threat. One could spend every day being a thief, but not every day guarding against one. His true strength far exceeded what he had revealed, and he also had the ultimate lifesaving skill of teleportation, which left him without fear.
Rather than spend his days fretting over these things and hiding away in his estate or the club, he thought it would be better to go about his life as usual. He might even draw the enemy out and eliminate the hidden threats in one fell swoop.
Before you continue