The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 283: Heavenly Sword (2)
“...You said you’ll lift the curse?”
Ceaselessly swinging his sword, Cheon Ajin froze mid-motion, eyes wide.
“Yes. To be precise, I’ll use spatial magic to extract the worm inside your heart.”
Even the continent’s greatest curse-masters—and the High Temple itself—had declared this curse impossible to dispel.
Cheon Ajin looked at Oscar with uncertainty; he was speaking as though it were trivial.
‘If it were nonsense, Grandfather would’ve scolded him already.’
But the old man was silent, merely listening.
That alone meant he considered it possible.
Encouraged, Cheon Ajin’s gaze hardened.
“Tell me what I must do.”
“Nothing.”
Oscar added calmly,
“Stay still. Completely still.”
“That’s all? Understood.”
At once, Cheon Ajin closed his eyes.
Watching him, Oscar couldn’t help but marvel inwardly.
‘This kid... his talent is remarkable.’
Cheon Ajin’s condition shifted instantly.
His heavy breathing halted, every tremor vanished, and even his heartbeat stopped entirely—his body falling into a perfect state of suspended animation.
‘This isn’t a person—it’s like watching a machine.’
A human body isn’t something you can switch off like a device, yet Cheon Ajin had entered a near-death state at will.
That meant total control over his physiology.
“There’s nothing to be so amazed about,”
The Heavenly Sword said blandly.
“Any high knight of the Sword Clan can do that much.”
“Still, I’ve never seen anyone so flawless.”
“Hmph. He was exceptionally gifted since childhood.”
The old man’s tone remained flat, but the slight upward tilt of his chin betrayed his pride.
Even a man like him couldn’t hide his satisfaction when it came to his grandson.
Oscar swallowed a smile.
“I’ll begin. Ah—one thing first.”
He turned toward the Heavenly Sword, lowering his voice.
“If there’s a curse-user nearby, they’ll react when I try to remove the parasite.”
“I understand. Leave that to me.”
The old man clasped his hands behind his back.
A pulse of power rippled out from him, spreading in an instant to cover the entire city of Sicadel.
“From this moment, not even an ant in this city will escape my perception.”
“Then I’ll trust you.”
Oscar steadied his breathing and cast Scan, peering into Cheon Ajin’s body.
Every organ and vessel became visible—and within the heart lurked a worm, grotesquely clear.
‘Wait... this shape looks familiar.’
A chill of recognition ran through him.
It was identical to the one that had wriggled through the Emperor’s brain.
‘It’s fatter—probably from feeding on Ajin’s mana and muscle—but otherwise the same.’
Meaning the one who planted it was the same being that had cursed the Emperor.
Or someone using the same technique.
Either way, removing it came first.
‘Just like last time... wait until it lowers its guard, then slice it with Wind Cutter and blink away—’
He began suppressing his presence—but before he could act, the worm suddenly swelled like a balloon.
“...!”
A blaring alarm went off in Oscar’s instincts.
‘Damn it!’
The creature’s movement was too sudden, too fast—he had time for only one spell.
He had to choose between Wind Cutter and Blink in a heartbeat.
『Blink.』
It was a reckless decision, but his gut screamed that cutting it now would be fatal.
In that instant, he tore open space and hurled the worm skyward above the training grounds—
KWA-A-A-ANG!
The worm exploded midair, the blast rattling the city.
Watching the fiery bloom, Oscar felt his own heart seize.
‘If I’d tried to cut it... Ajin’s body would’ve been vaporized.’
“...A rat.”
The Heavenly Sword’s cold voice sliced the silence.
His gaze snapped toward some distant point.
A man landed silently on a rooftop—the same building where Dust had died days ago, now sealed off by the Sword Clan.
“Tch. Dust, you fool.”
Because that idiot had been exposed, their plan had collapsed before it began.
If things had gone right, tens of thousands of citizens would’ve been drugged into madness, creating a city of death before the Heavenly Sword could intervene.
‘To think he got caught by the Shadow Trackers...’
And Dust had been no weakling—an 8-level demon, one of the top three in the Black Fingers organization.
The man scanned the rooftop, hoping against hope that some of Darwin’s Blood remained.
‘Just one drop could make me far stronger...’
He himself had drunk demon blood, but his donor had only been a baron, master of curses.
Compared to the blood of the Four Great Counts—revered even among demons—it was worthless.
‘To think he drank such a lineage and still lost to that old swordsman...’
He sighed, sweeping his light across the spotless rooftop.
Not a trace of blood remained.
‘Of course not. The Sword Clan would’ve cleaned everything.’
Disappointed, he pulled out a cigarette—
“Ghhk!”
—only for pain to crush his chest.
His eyes bulged; as a curse-user, he knew instantly what it meant.
‘The worm in the Heavenly Sword’s heart... it’s dead? How—?!’
Panic seized him.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something glinting in the night sky.
“...A star?”
What else could sparkle in the heavens?
But even as he whispered, the “star” streaked toward him at impossible speed.
“Wait—A sword?!”
Realization struck too late.
He crushed the cigarette and swore.
Damn it all!
Only one man in this era could wield a flying sword that fast.
Run—!
He leapt from the ledge—
—and the blade impaled him through the abdomen.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
KWA-DUK!
The sword shot down from the heavens and buried itself in the training ground’s floor.
“Cough—khak!”
The man was skewered on it, a plain-looking fellow who’d have passed unnoticed in any crowd.
“...The Heavenly Sword!”
Choking, he bit down on the poison capsule hidden in his mouth—
“It’s useless,”
The old man said flatly.
The mage froze, his body locked.
A force pried open his jaw, and the capsule dropped harmlessly to the ground.
The pain of his torn mouth made him want to scream, but even that was denied.
All he could do was let tears spill from his eyes.
“Do not kill him easily,”
Oscar warned urgently.
“He might be the same one who cursed His Majesty.”
“Hm. A pity—but fine.”
The Heavenly Sword nodded and turned toward his grandson.
“...Is Ajin unharmed?”
“Of course.”
Oscar gently shook the young man’s shoulder.
“It’s over. You can wake now.”
“Mmm...”
As if someone had flipped a switch, Cheon Ajin stirred, eyelids fluttering open.
“I-is it done?”
“Yes.”
“The worm in my heart...?”
“Removed safely—and your grandfather has captured the curse-user.”
Oscar tilted his chin toward the sobbing captive.
Cheon Ajin’s eyes trembled.
Before he could start a flood of thanks, Oscar cut him off.
“I understand your relief, but save it for later—we’ve more to learn from this one first.”
The Heavenly Sword spoke quietly,
“If you’ve a weak stomach, leave now. I’ll make him confess the number of loaves he’s eaten since birth.”
“I’m fine. I have some experience with interrogation myself.”
“U-urgh...”
The captive shuddered as the two men regarded him like wolves eyeing prey.
By dawn, every light in the Sword Clan manor was ablaze.
“So,”
Began the clan head, Chenko Verstappen, staring at the bound madman in the council chamber,
“This is the man who cursed the young sword master?”
“Name: Rad Politz. Age: thirty-seven. A demonized human who drank the blood of the Curse Baron—member of the Black Finger.”
Chenko’s face darkened.
“A Black Finger operative? Walking freely in our city?”
He was clearly shaken by the breach in Sicadel’s security—but there was little they could’ve done.
“Demons and demonized humans differ, true demons radiate corrupt mana by their very existence. But the demonic humans—humans who’ve drunk diluted demon blood—can conceal themselves unless they use their powers.”
“Hmm.”
“Thankfully, the Shadow Trackers located Dust’s base in time. If the plan had succeeded, the number of infected citizens would’ve been thousands—tens of thousands.”
Chenko swallowed hard.
The Sword Clan alone could never have contained that disaster.
“At least we prevented that.”
“Yes, though one thing still puzzles me.”
Oscar frowned.
“This man’s target wasn’t the young master—it was the Heavenly Sword himself. They intended to curse the strongest knight, erode his body and mind, and let Dust finish him. Yet somehow, the curse ended up on the grandson instead.”
“Hmph. Couldn’t it have been a mistake?”
“No. He said he used the Heavenly Sword’s hair as the medium.”
“...”
“...”
Silence filled the chamber.
When Oscar glanced around, every knight quickly looked away. Finally, Cheon Ajin spoke softly,
“Did Grandfather... say anything about that?”
“No. He went completely silent whenever it was mentioned.”
“Then I have nothing further to say either.”
“Hold on—you can’t just gloss over this. What if he lied and aimed for you deliberately—”
“Oscar Crucian,”
The clan head interjected gravely.
“Please, let this matter rest—for the Heavenly Sword’s honor.”
“...Pardon?”
Oscar blinked.
What did honor have to do with—
Then his eyes drifted to Ajin’s forehead.
Despite being only twenty, his hairline already showed a faint M-shaped recession.
“Oh...”
Comprehension dawned.
Perhaps, Oscar thought solemnly, the Heavenly Sword’s lifelong dislike of him hadn’t just been because he was a mage... but because Oscar’s hair was long, thick, and luxurious—more than most women’s.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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