God-Tier Enhancement: My Upgrades Never Fail-Chapter 239: Episode _Ruler of the Battlefield (1)

1.

After countless twists and turns, the die was cast. It was the prelude to Act 3 of the main quest scenario. Only the Specialists, who had reached level 100, knew the true nature of the quest, but all players were moving to stop the black magic mages’ conquest of the continent. And they were most likely correct. Judging by the black magic mages’ movements, they were either trying to conquer the continent with their own strength or using the chaos as a pretext to open a gate to the Demon Realm.

Either way, they had to be stopped. And the best way to do that was to kill them. Likewise, for the black magic mages to achieve their goals, they needed to kill as many of their enemies as possible. Since their objectives aligned, there was no reason to avoid a confrontation.

The two massive armies were on the verge of clashing.

Simin, the man at the heart of the storm, was also on the move. Until now, his actions had been part of a carefully crafted script. Not anymore.

"Let’s not contact each other from now on. We’ll just let things flow," he had told the Specialists.

From this point on, he had no way to control the situation. His discussions with the Specialists were over. They could have planned for what came next, but they didn’t. Once the all-out war began, the arrow would have left not only the Specialists’ bow but his as well.

Even with a tamed dragon and the Royal and Holy Knights at his command, he lacked the power to dictate the outcome of a battle involving tens of thousands of troops. So, he decided to go with the flow and do his best in his assigned role.

This was a game, after all. It felt more real than reality, and he earned more money here, so he had to be careful—but it was still a game. You revived when you died. There was no need to go easy on allies who were only pretending to be enemies.

"Kill all black magic mages on sight," he commanded.

"Yes, sir!" the knights responded.

Of course, to avoid a costly war of attrition, Simin had deliberately declared that he would intercept the incoming black mage reinforcements. It was a move to minimize damage, and it was convenient. Small groups of black magic mages would be easily handled by the priest-blessed Royal Knights and Holy Knights without him having to lift a finger.

Since they weren’t officially in his party, he wouldn’t share their experience points, but he would get to collect all the items they dropped. What a perfect arrangement. Furthermore, the kill points for each slain enemy would be credited to his name—a nice little bonus he could extort from Kenji later.

He had set a grand stage, but he wasn’t being greedy. He had already achieved the rewards he wanted. Even if the situation spiraled out of his control, he would have no regrets.

’A building owner in New York. Not bad, right?’

He was all for living a long, quiet life. Hammer in hand, Simin strode forward with confidence. Behind him, the elite Royal Knights and Holy Knights, who had spent the last few weeks hunting useless monsters instead of black magic mages, followed with expressions full of discontent.

*

The black magic mages had lived in hiding, scattered across the continent. Many didn’t even know where their brethren were. It was unavoidable. Large gatherings were out of the question. Just to reach the Order’s headquarters in the south, they had to be warier of the monsters they encountered than of being spotted by people.

Thus, most black magic mages operated in small, independent cells. They shared a common goal but acted separately. It was a method only they could employ, willing as they were to abandon a comrade to save their own skin.

Now, after hundreds of years, they had drawn their staves—not swords—to dye the continent in darkness. Seeing their call to arms, countless black magic mages emerged from the shadows. As they gathered, one by one, they were even more surprised by their own numbers. With adventurers joining their ranks, their army seemed even larger.

The players, in particular, leveled up at an astonishing rate, providing a significant boost to the black magic mages’ firepower. The Emperor, aiming to annihilate them all in one fell swoop, had even ordered his troops to retreat from the castles rather than sending them out in small groups. As a result, the black magic mages had enjoyed an unbroken string of victories.

Morale was at an all-time high. Even those who had been more concerned with their own survival than with the continent’s darkness crawled out of the woodwork. They moved in small groups to join the main army, slaughtering civilians along the way as a bonus.

A group of about twenty black magic mages in the east had formed in this way.

"The age of black magic mages is finally upon us."

"It was worth the wait."

"When I think back on all those days we spent living in the forbidden zones..."

"Humans over there!"

"Kill them!"

"To be able to slaughter humans in broad daylight while wearing our black robes... It brings me such joy."

They were not weak, even alone. But mages grew stronger in numbers.

"Aargh! What is this!"

"I can’t get close!"

A barrage of simple harassment spells rained down while mages with longer incantations completed their casting. The moment one powerful spell landed, another chant began. The shield created by a dozen mages was perfect for blocking most ranged attacks. Even if an enemy managed to get close, these black magic mages, who had survived by fighting monsters in the wild, would not give up their lives easily in close combat.

"This is so easy. The people of this continent are pathetically weak."

Their arrogance was understandable. They hadn’t even reached the real battlefield yet, but it was far better to be brimming with confidence than to be intimidated before the fight even began.

Just then, another group of people entered their line of sight.

"Prepare magic... Huh?"

The black magic mages, who had instinctively prepared to attack, paused. It wasn’t out of some sudden surge of humanitarianism. It was because the figures’ attire was familiar.

The approaching group was slightly larger than their own party of twenty. But they were all clad in the same black robes. At a glance, they were black magic mages.

"Who goes there!" one of them called out.

But the black magic mages didn’t foolishly assume they were allies and run forward with open arms. Disguising themselves as friendly forces to infiltrate and slaughter humans was their specialty. Naturally, their first instinct was suspicion. No black mage would be foolish enough to fall for such a trick.

The other group seemed to feel the same way, as they raised their staves warily. A strange standoff ensued. In the silence, their dark mana swirled.

Vwoom—

A magic circle materialized before the strangers in black robes. The Magic Circle of Subjugation—a spell only black magic mages could use.

"They’re one of us."

The black magic mages lowered their guard and, in turn, drew the same magic circle to prove their own identity. Relaxing, they began to approach. It was a kind of password, a proof of their allegiance. Anyone who could draw it could be trusted. At least among fellow black magic mages, there was no fear of being stabbed in the back.

"Where are you from?" the black magic mage asked.

"The north," the leader of the newcomers replied.

"We’re on our way to join the main force. Care to join us?"

The leader simply nodded.

And just like that, a group of black-robed mages, nearly equal in number to their own, merged with their ranks. Their confidence instantly doubled. It was a simple black mage formula: one plus one didn’t equal two, but three or even four. With this much power, they felt they could easily steamroll any decent-sized territory.

The leader of the original group turned to the man who seemed to be in charge of the new arrivals. "There’s a fairly large territory on our way. What do you say we conquer it before moving on?"

"Sounds good." The other leader considered it for a moment before nodding in agreement.

With an agreement reached, there was no hesitation. The combined force immediately headed for the nearby territory.

2.

It was a sizable territory. While its stone walls weren’t as impossibly sturdy as those of the Rich Territory, they were still quite high. A territory like this was rarely empty. Though chaos had descended upon the continent and many had fled, not everyone could simply abandon their homes. It was their livelihood, after all.

Fleeing might save their lives, but if the black magic mages swept through, they would lose everything. It wasn’t a choice to be made lightly.

The ones who had chosen to evacuate were those directly in the path of the black magic mages’ main army. Fortunately, this territory was far from that route, so its people had remained. In fact, as black magic mages began appearing all over the continent, people from smaller villages had even sought refuge within its walls, a testament to its scale.

Despite this, the leader of the black magic mage contingent was confident. "We just need to break through the gate."

"Break it, and we’ll go in," the newcomer’s leader affirmed.

"Let’s do it."

Even in their brief strategy meeting, the newly joined mages in their black robes seemed brimming with confidence. The original leader hadn’t gotten a good look at their swords, but he could see a faint glow emanating from them. He mused that they might be skilled swordsmen in addition to being black magic mages. If so, the job would be even easier.

The thought of a black mage wielding a sword didn’t raise any suspicion; for centuries, there had been tales of black magic mages who used auxiliary magic like curses while specializing in swordsmanship. He figured they were of that sort. The combination of magic and steel only bolstered his confidence.

And so, with the arrogance befitting a black mage, he declared a siege.

It was less a declaration and more a sudden assault. They summoned a barrage of jet-black orbs and began hammering the castle walls without warning. Chaos erupted within the fortress. Troops were hastily deployed and arrows rained down, but the mages could clearly see the terror on the soldiers’ faces.

They cackled. Fear and despair were their happiness and joy.

They took their time, enjoying the spectacle from a safe distance outside the arrows’ range. They knew no reinforcements would come. Aid required resources, and with the entire continent in turmoil, no one could afford to help another territory. Even here, close to the Empire, it was impossible. As if to prove their point, an hour passed with no sign of a relief force.

With satisfied expressions, the black magic mages raised their staves. The newcomers drew their swords, standing guard around them. This allowed for longer incantations, and soon, spells of immense power painted the sky. They weren’t as vibrant as elemental magic, but the sky, shrouded in darkness, was far more menacing.

The spells flew, striking the gate. This was on a different level from the magic they had casually thrown at the walls. The gate had been built to withstand even siege rams, but it couldn’t endure the baptism of black magic. It cracked, shattered, and finally vanished. Despair washed over the faces of the soldiers watching from the ramparts.

The black magic mages began to advance slowly. The swordsmen continued their escort as the original mages puffed out their chests in triumph. As they reached the gate, the leader gave the newcomers a nod. "You’re up." He began preparing a chant to provide support.

However, what happened next was not what he had expected.

"It’s my turn, sure," the newcomer’s leader said. "But why are you talking down to me?"

The black mage leader stared in confusion.

"You’ve been pissing me off for a while now. I tried to give you a hint, but you just kept at it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Is being a black mage some kind of high-and-mighty title? You bastards really are all the same. The moment three or more of you get together, you go looking for people to kill. I was thinking of just shaking you down for some cash and letting you go, but I’ve changed my mind. Just die."

"You...!"

As the taunting words left his mouth, the newcomers threw back their hoods. The black magic mages stared, speechless—not because they recognized the faces.

"H-Holy Knights!"

On the necks of some of the men were the telltale tattoos of the Holy Knights.

’We’ve been tricked!’

The realization came far too late.

The black magic mages were cut down in an instant. They were certainly strong in close combat, but that was relative. They were no match for the Imperial and Holy Knights, who had spent their entire lives training with the sword. The special unit, now with their robes thrown back, slung the corpses over their shoulders and entered the castle.

"Thanks for opening the gate," they said, offering a small token of gratitude to the dead.

*