Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1614: Coming Back (Part 1)

Alen and his men had been fighting an internal battle long before they stepped into this war. Ever since they left the Dark Guild, their hearts had been torn in two directions. On one side was survival. On the other was guilt.

There was no way any of them could continue to stay under the Dark Guild after what they witnessed. They had watched their closest allies die, slain without hesitation by the very people they were supposed to call comrades. Once that line was crossed, there was no going back.

Even though Raze, the Dark Magus himself, had protected them during their escape, there wasn’t much they could do about the situation. Leaving openly would have meant death. Staying would have meant dying slowly on the inside.

So they escaped.

And once they escaped, they hid.

Alen vowed that he would get revenge one day. Harvey would pay for the lives he stole. Whether it was by Alen’s own hands, or someone else’s, the man would not leave this world unpunished.

But revenge had to wait. When they left, Alen and his group were forced into secrecy, always on the move, always hiding from those who might still be loyal to the Dark Guild. Yet even in exile, they were not completely alone.

Not everyone rejected Alen.

There were still allies, people who quietly passed information to them, who helped them travel safely, who warned them of danger and whispered about movements that were happening on Alterian. Because of those people, Alen and his men learned something crucial:

Gizin was making his move.

And it wasn’t subtle. Gizin openly contacted every guild he could reach, calling them to arms. The target was the Underside.

When Alen learned this, there was a moment, just a moment, where the logical conclusion seemed obvious.

Let them fight. Let Gizin wipe out the Dark Guild. Raze will probably survive on his own. The rest? Not our problem.

But the thought didn’t sit right in his chest.

He remembered their time in the Underside. It had been short, but meaningful. The people they met there had been kind, genuinely kind. They welcomed Alen’s group with open hands, without fear, without hesitation.

For people who had spent months running, hiding, distrusting everyone they met... the Underside had felt different.

That short time changed something inside of them.

They began to understand the Underside wasn’t a place of criminals, monsters, or rejects. It was Alterian’s hidden wound, a place where all the suffering, oppression, and discarded truths of the world were shoved beneath everyone’s feet.

The Underside was part of Alterian just as much as any noble city.

And the more they thought about it, the more Alen realized something painful:

If they did nothing, they would become just like the Dark Guild, ignoring suffering as long as it did not touch them.

That wasn’t who he wanted to be. He soon learned the others felt the same. So they returned. Not for the Dark Guild. Not for Raze. But for the people.

And when they arrived, they happened to reach one of the kindest people they knew at the exact moment she needed help, Safa.

"There are too many mages down here," Alen said, scanning the collapsing battlefield. "The longer we wait, the more will perish. Three of you stay with me and guard the girl. The rest, spread out and help the Underside! Now!"

There was no hesitation. No doubt.

His men moved instantly, as if responding to a command they were born to obey.

Alen stood directly in front of Safa, arms folded. He understood what she was trying to do, and he understood how important it was. If she completed her breakthrough, she wouldn’t just be another fighter, she would change the tide of this war.

Not only did they need to win against the Grand Magus... they needed to win without sacrificing countless lives. Safa was the only person capable of doing that.

"Damn it," Alen muttered, looking upward. "We took out a bunch of them on our way here, but there are still more coming down."

Above them, figures descended.

Latecomers from various guilds, mages enticed by the reward money.

Some of them had simply been cowards. They let the first wave fight and die, waiting until the battlefield was weak enough for them to prey on.

Others didn’t care who they killed. As long as they were paid, they would strike down the Underside and everyone in it.

Alen flicked his fingers downward. Flames exploded beneath his feet, blasting him upward into the air like a rocket. While falling back down, he snapped his fingers several times.

Curved arcs of flame spun outward from his hands, fast, silent, and angled in a way that hid their trajectory. By the time the incoming mages realized what was happening, the fire spells had already struck them head-on.

Their screams echoed through the cavernous space.

But Alen wasn’t fighting alone.

His people unleashed magic across the battlefield, ice, wind, lightning, earth. They weren’t just casting spells, they were using tactics. Some placed magic mines in the ground. Others weakened the ceiling to collapse rubble on enemies. A few used weak, low-damage spells just to distract enemy casters long enough for Alen’s fire to catch them.

This was the difference between scattered mercenaries and a trained combat unit that had survived life-or-death missions together.

Alen swept the battlefield with another wave of flame.

Then, He felt it. A wave of mana washed over him from behind.

The instant it touched him, he felt warmth. Soothing warmth. His body relaxed. His fatigue faded. His mind felt clearer than it had in hours.

He turned. And saw her.

Safa was standing. Her hair lifted slightly, robes fluttering from the magic circulating through her body. Her eyes glowed with divine brilliance.

She had finished her breakthrough.

Alen smirked.

"Well now," he said, flames gathering in both of his hands. "Looks like we have a Seven Star Healer on our side."

His grin widened.

"...This is going to be interesting."

****

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