The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 50: Shivaro

"Not bad, you’re fast," Luen sneered, his voice laced with frustration. "What the hell is going on here? Is this your doing?"

Hutson shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Nothing to do with me. I’m trying to figure out how to get out, just like you."

"It’s the Moonlight Grove! That bastard must’ve set this up!" one of Luen’s subordinates snarled, recognizing the robes Hutson wore.

Luen spared Hutson a single glance before scoffing.

"No. A mere first-tier apprentice wouldn’t have access to advanced spatial magic. Something is wrong with this place."

Then his gaze sharpened.

"But if that’s the case, we don’t need him anymore. Kill him."

The moment the words left his mouth, Hutson turned and ran.

A barrage of spells flew toward him, but—

"Ice Shield!"

"Mana Shield!"

"Dark Energy Shield!"

The three defensive layers absorbed the attacks, dispersing the energy harmlessly.

"What the hell is with all these shields?!" one of the sorcerers cursed, watching in disbelief as Hutson vanished into the trees.

But neither of them dared to chase him.

Because something far more terrifying was coming from behind.

Luen scowled at their hesitation. "Stop stalling! Kill him!"

Reluctantly, the two apprentices pushed forward, spells at the ready.

Then—they froze.

A deep, suffocating cold seeped into the air.

Hutson felt it too.

A sensation of pure dread crawling up his spine, burrowing into his bones.

He turned back—and saw it.

A figure, crouched low to the ground in a grotesquely twisted position.

Its limbs were bent at unnatural angles.

It should have been crawling, but its head was completely reversed, as though its neck had been snapped and twisted a full 180 degrees.

Hutson’s mind flashed back to the name he had heard earlier—

"Shivaro."

"AI chip, scan for information."

"Shivaro. An abyssal entity. Extremely dangerous."

That was all.

Just a single sentence.

Nothing more.

Hutson’s stomach tightened.

He had read about Shivaro before, but it was always classified as a myth, a whispered legend.

"But why... is it here?"

His instincts screamed at him to run.

But his body refused to move.

It was as if his very muscles had turned to stone, his mana flow sluggish and unnatural—as though something was suppressing it.

And Shivaro crawled forward, slowly, patiently, dragging itself toward them.

Its long, black hair slithered across the forest floor like writhing tentacles, stretching out in all directions.

"AI chip, force my muscles to move!"

"Initiating neuromuscular stimulation..."

A jolt shot through his limbs—a numbing, electric pulse.

A second later—he broke free.

Hutson didn’t hesitate.

He turned and ran.

Shivaro did not react.

It simply crawled forward, unbothered, unfazed—as if it knew he could never escape.

Luen and his two subordinates remained frozen in place, unable to move.

They could only watch as Hutson fled, while Shivaro inched closer.

Then—

It stopped before them.

But its hair did not.

The writhing black tendrils slithered forward, reaching out, curling around their ankles—

And then sliding beneath their robes.

Luen’s face contorted in horror.

He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The dark strands crept up their legs, burrowing into their clothes, slithering beneath their skin.

A moment later—

Black tendrils burst from their noses, mouths, ears, and eye sockets.

Hair, slick with fresh blood and torn flesh, wriggled like worms escaping from hollowed-out corpses.

Beneath their skin, something squirmed.

Their bodies deflated, their flesh caving inward as if their insides were being consumed.

Wet, disgusting chewing sounds echoed in the silent forest.

A sound that made Hutson’s scalp crawl.

He did not run far.

Because he couldn’t.

No matter how far he went, the forest’s edges remained unreachable.

He was trapped.

Through AI chip’s detection, he watched—helplessly—as Luen and his men were devoured alive.

When it was over—

Only three empty human skins remained.

Their bones? Organs? Flesh?

Gone.

Shivaro turned.

Slowly.

Its head still twisted backward, eyes lifeless—

As it began crawling toward Hutson.

A suffocating wave of malice swept over him, sinking its claws deep into his soul.

His body froze again.

This time—

No amount of muscle stimulation could break him free.

Shivaro continued its slow, inevitable approach.

"AI chip! Control my mana! Activate the watch’s Holy Healing spell!"

"Executing..."

The pocket watch on his chest flickered to life.

A woman’s spectral figure materialized before him, her soft glow radiating warmth.

Divine light enveloped him, wrapping around his form.

The darkness in his heart receded, and the numbing cold faded slightly.

But—

Shivaro did not stop.

The Holy Healing spell had no effect.

Hutson’s fingers curled into fists, his mind racing.

He was out of time.

And he had no idea how to survive this.

Croak! Croak! Croak!

The eerie silence shattered.

A sharp, jarring croak echoed through the night.

For the first time—Shivaro stopped.

Hutson’s breath hitched.

Not far from him, a massive toad, nearly the size of a basketball, had appeared out of nowhere.

It stared straight at him, its throat puffing up and down, unleashing a series of rapid, urgent croaks.

The overwhelming paralysis on Hutson’s body eased, if only slightly.

With great effort, he forced his head to turn, his gaze landing on the strange amphibian.

And then—

His fingers began to burn.

A sudden heat pulsed against his skin.

He glanced down.

The source—

Lilian’s spatial ring.

Something inside it was reacting.

"What’s inside...?"

Reaching out with his mana, he probed the contents of the ring.

And there, buried in his inventory—

An object he had nearly forgotten.

A wooden hexagonal disk.

The moment he sensed it, his memory surged back.

"This is...!"

Back when his ship docked at Colombo Isle, he and Lilian had stumbled upon a small market.

Among the countless trinkets and oddities, he had purchased this seemingly unremarkable artifact.

A hexagonal wooden plate, its center carved with the image of a towering six-sided spire.

He had studied it for a time—searching for enchantments, magical imprints, or hidden mechanisms.

Nothing.

It had remained dormant, utterly unresponsive.

Eventually, he had tossed it into his storage ring and forgotten about it.

But now—

It glowed.

A soft, pale yellow light pulsed from its core, and the entire disk floated into the air—

Straining against the spatial ring, as if it wished to escape.

Hutson hesitated for only a second before he reached in and pulled it out.

The moment the wooden plate left the ring—

Its light intensified.

The toad croaked even louder, frantic, excited.

And Shivaro...

Shivaro turned.

Slowly, unnervingly, Shivaro tilted its head toward the wooden plate.

Its milky-white, pupil-less eyes swiveled, locking onto the glowing relic.

A flicker of awareness—

Recognition.

And for the first time—

A reaction.