How to Survive as a Mage Inside a Game-Chapter 14: Slave Traders, Elves, Terrorists (3)

He could feel the sheer gap in power.

That indistinct pressure—just like when he faced the elders of the Altius main school.

'Not even just high-knight level. Something far beyond that...'

Karl felt his palms start to sweat as he cautiously asked the old man,

"May I ask who you are?"

The old man gave him a toothy grin.

"If you knew, I’d have to kill you. Still want to know?"

"...I’ve got a pretty good sense for danger. And judging by the situation, not knowing doesn’t seem like it’ll help me survive either."

At some point, a quest had popped up in Karl’s mind.

'Unscheduled Quest: Survival'

You are facing an overwhelming opponent. Escape their grasp and survive by any means necessary.

Quest Reward: 80,000 SP, 1 random magical item

For an unscheduled quest, the reward was insane—but this was no time to be happy about that.

"Haha! Is that so? That’s a decent gut instinct you’ve got there."

The old man chuckled and glanced around.

"Let’s start by wiping out the pointy-ears."

As if out for a casual stroll, he stepped down from the tree and swung an arm at the nearby elves as if playfully swatting flies.

But the result was anything but playful.

Splat.

Elven heads flew through the air.

Blood sprayed in ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) all directions.

"...H-Hurk!"

The elves, one beat too slow to grasp what was happening, panicked and tried to retaliate—but it was too late.

The slaughter lasted only seconds.

Just seconds for the lush green field to be drenched in blood and elven flesh.

The old man moved too fast for the eye to follow.

The bowmen, the spirit user, the rescued girl—all of them were cut down in an instant, without so much as a counterattack.

"A-Aaah..."

Only the elf captain, the one closest to Karl, survived long enough to witness the massacre.

She stood up, dazed, like her soul had left her body.

Raising her sword, eyes bloodshot with rage, she let out a scream and charged at the old man.

Skkk!

A red arc sliced through the air.

The last elf’s head hit the ground.

Karl gritted his teeth, staring down at her severed head as it rolled toward him.

'Shit...'

Even if he had tried to help, it would’ve been meaningless. Watching such a merciless massacre unfold—he hadn’t been able to move a single finger.

Just the thought of trying had made his whole body scream that he’d be skewered instantly.

In his mind, he heard the fortune-teller’s words from Gaster again, right before he’d left the city.

'Your life is in danger.'

So this is what she meant. Fucking hell.

If he’d known, he would’ve begged harder for advice. But now it was too late—useless regret.

Karl racked his brain.

The system had never given him a quest outside of his ability level.

Maybe this was the first time—but even so, he couldn’t just give up and die like this.

'If it says to survive by any means, then there has to be a way to survive.'

What is it?

"See? That’s what happens when you wander into human lands. All that, just to save one little kin... tsk tsk."

Karl glanced sideways at the old man.

He looked genuinely disappointed, brushing the blood off his sword as he gazed at the slaughtered elves.

And then it hit Karl.

'...His goal. Wait—what’s his goal?'

Why is a monster like that even here, doing all this?

It’s just a convoy of slave traders—what’s so special about this situation?

["Let’s start by wiping out the pointy-ears."]

'From the way he talks, it doesn’t seem like killing is the goal.'

There were three kinds of people here.

Elves, slave traders, and slaves.

The elves were all dead, so that left either the traders or the slaves.

That meant the old man had a target among them.

Who?

"U-Ugh..."

The slave traders were trembling, lost in panic.

Didn’t seem like it was them.

Karl’s gaze shifted instinctively toward the caged slaves.

And then he saw something out of place.

"......!!"

One young slave, leaning against the bars... yawning.

Completely relaxed, utterly unfazed by the current situation.

'It’s him.'

Karl couldn’t explain why.

Just instinct.

The old man was distracted—this was his only chance.

Karl lunged toward the young man and at the same time, fired off a full-power Force spell.

From the front, something terrifyingly fast surged at him with a murderous aura.

Crack! Splatter!

His shield shattered like glass.

Then the secondary shield—activated by his defense artifact—was ripped open, and a dagger grazed deep into Karl’s side.

'Kkkgh...!!'

Fucking monster of a geezer.

Pain like his brain was going to burst overwhelmed him.

But—crack!

Karl managed to keep his magic stable just long enough to grab the youth by the throat with Force.

"...Heh. Well, now."

The old man’s voice, now only a few paces away, sounded genuinely surprised.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Karl panted harshly as he looked at the old man—and laughed.

"This... looks like I picked the right answer?"

"......"

"Don’t come any closer. Unless you're confident you can kill me before I snap this guy’s neck."

Karl stepped with effort until he was right beside the young man.

The old man clicked his tongue, watching the scene.

"How did you figure it out? I never once looked in that direction."

"It wasn’t you... this guy’s attitude didn’t match the situation. Way too relaxed."

The old man shook his head like he understood.

'I was too relaxed.'

He never imagined the kid would notice his target and take advantage of it.

Now that the young man was a hostage, he couldn’t move recklessly.

No matter how fast he was, it would be difficult to subdue Karl before that Force magic twisted the youth’s neck.

The old man had to admit he’d underestimated this young mage.

'Well, it’s only a momentary flail...'

With a smirk, the old man asked Karl,

"So? What now?"

"......"

"Dragging this out won’t save you. And you're injured—makes it even worse. It must be hurting like hell already. Tell me, starting to feel something strange in your body?"

The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.

Just as the old man said, Karl was starting to feel a weird sensation spreading.

A system notification flashed in his head.

[You have been poisoned with ‘Sanma Toxin’.]

[Your internal mana will slowly dissipate over time.]

Sanma Toxin?

'Fuck, what now.'

So that dagger from earlier was poisoned?

And dissipating mana—this was bad.

It meant he couldn’t hold this hostage spell for long.

"Give it up quietly. At least then I’ll make it painless."

After a brief pause, Karl spoke.

"What the hell are you people... What is this bastard’s identity?"

The one who answered was the young man held hostage.

"Aranhel."

"......!!"

Karl’s eyes widened in shock.

He’d expected some kind of high-level organization, but not this—Aranhel?

The worst terrorist organization on the continent. A criminal syndicate. Rebels. They had many names, but all with the same prefix:

The worst on the continent.

Karl let out a laugh of disbelief.

'Fuck me, how the hell did I end up tangled with the psychos who bomb royal capitals...'

The young man continued in an indifferent tone.

"That old man’s one of the higher-ups. As for me... just one of their endless heirs, without power or talent, tossed aside. Ended up a slave, see? Heh. Still, guess he cared enough to come pick me up."

"Young master, I’d recommend keeping your mouth shut."

"What’s the big deal? He’s gonna die anyway, might as well answer a few questions. Poor guy."

The young man grinned at Karl.

"Hey, my neck hurts. Why not just give up already? You’re not getting out of this anyway. Why bother struggling so hard?"

"......"

He showed no fear, even with his life hanging by a thread.

That meant his faith in the old man’s strength was absolute.

That belief—that this old man would wipe the floor with Karl and rescue him without issue.

It was probably a reasonable assumption. If this guy really was a senior member of Aranhel, then he was the kind of power player ranked among the deadliest on the continent.

Karl bit down on his lip.

'I was going to wait for a bigger opening...'

But the poison was stronger than expected—half his internal mana had already dissipated.

He must’ve lost too much blood too. He felt dizzy.

There was no time left.

Karl pulled out a piece of parchment from his inventory.

"...Hoh."

The old man’s eyes sharpened with suspicion as the item appeared from thin air.

"I’ve never seen magic like that. Spatial magic? Now I’m curious—what school do you belong to?"

Karl ignored him and read the parchment.

<Teleport Scroll – Consumable Magical Tool>

Teleports the user to a random location within 100KM.

Casting Time: 30 seconds

A reward from one of the many quests he’d completed.

A single-use version of the 7-circle high-tier spell, Teleport, with the penalty of a random arrival location.

<Casting time: 30 seconds.>

As soon as the scroll activated, the old man would definitely react.

The question was whether he could buy those 30 seconds.

No matter what, he had to try.

Wuuuuung.

[You are using a Teleport Scroll.]

[30, 29, 28...]

The scroll’s magic flared to life.

The massive mana surge made the old man flinch and take a step forward.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you not to come closer."

"I told you—it’s pointless no matter what you try!"

"...I said don’t come closer, fucker! I’ll kill this bastard first and take myself with him if I have to!"

Thirty seconds. A span of time that felt like an eternity.

Even the tiniest mistake meant death.

Karl focused entirely on the old man, keeping time in the corner of his eye.

[6, 5, 4, 3...]

"What are you, suicidal? You’re not gonna take that freak down."

The hostage’s voice dripped with scorn.

Karl gave him a twisted grin.

"Does this look like a suicide attempt to you?"

"...?"

"You’re the only one dying. Say hi to hell."

Crack!

Karl twisted the young man’s neck.

"You bastard...!!"

In that instant, the old man’s face contorted with pure killing intent as he dashed forward like a thunderbolt.

Even faster than Karl expected.

[Teleport casting complete.]

FLASH!