The forest fell silent. The two men locked eyes before simultaneously drawing their wands to cast spells. Fethan fired the first spell—a gray magic bullet—while Shaman quickly conjured a translucent brown shield. The bullet struck the shield and dispersed harmlessly.

  "Cursed Bullet!" Shaman shouted, launching a dense black spirit projectile. Fethan rolled aside and fired a counterattack.

  Shaman wasn’t dumb enough to stand still. He leapt and cast a follow-up curse. A black spirit blade materialized and hurtled toward Fethan at high speed. The young man raised a shield of spirit energy in defense, but the cursed blade sliced through it like cake.

  "Cursed Bullet!" Shaman fired again, shattering Fethan’s shield like glass. The impact left Fethan dazed, as if struck with a hammer.

  "Ha! I know your type. You’ve never trained in dark magic. Just another trash-tier Rank E mage—kids like you are a dime a dozen. You think some brat still wet behind the ears can stand against me? I’ve lived and breathed curses my entire life. Whatever secret you’re hiding, I’ll take it. And you’ll become my eternal servant."

  "Keep dreaming!" Fethan knew the difference in their abilities. It was like a rookie swordsman up against a veteran assassin. The gulf in experience was too wide.

  "Let me show you how a dark mage really fights!"

  Shaman spun his wand and rapidly etched a spell circle. Spirit power surged from his tattooed body. The air in the graveyard thickened under oppressive force. With a wide, toothy grin, he chanted:

  "Rise—my loyal slaves!"

  He summoned cursed spirits under his control. Four humanoid cursed spirits materialized—each with a monstrous animal head:

  A mantis-headed man with giant blade arms.

  A lobster-headed brute wearing brass knuckles.

  A scorpion-headed warrior wielding a barbed whip.

  And a spider-headed fighter with eight limbs.

  Each one radiated malicious bloodlust. Whatever rituals and resources Shaman had spent to cultivate them must’ve been immense.

  [Warning: Cursed Spirits Detected]

  [Milo the Butcher – Purple Grade, Tier 4]

  [Morty the Bruiser – Purple Grade, Tier 3]

  [Agasa the Scourger – Purple Grade, Tier 3]

  [Joey the Brawler – Purple Grade, Tier 3]

  [Emergency Mission: Defeat All Four Cursed Spirits. Rewards: 1x Fusion Success Booster Card, 20 Soul Coins, 1x 3-Month Tax Collection Card, 1x Spell Upgrade Card. Penalty: Death]

  Each spirit had power comparable to Ricky the Lecherous Roach. But now, Fethan was facing four of them at once—including one Tier 4.

  "Well? Impressed? I raised them for years. Took over a hundred sacrifices to fuse animal spirits into these human hybrids. Let me know if you want to be next. Should I mix you with a rat or a cat?"

  Shaman gloated, proud of his grotesque creations—his expertise was in spirit fusion. Like an alchemist crafting chimeras.

  "You’re proud of this? Taking lives to make freaks? You disgust me. Just the thought of a scum like you being reincarnated gives me nightmares."

  "Haha! That’s the world of curses, boy. Na?ve fools like you, no matter your talent, don’t belong in the dark arts. Kill him! Whoever takes him down gets a special reward!"

  The cursed spirits moved to surround Fethan.

  "In the name of the Eternal Dominion—I summon my loyal vassals."

  Fethan expanded his spirit power. Hellhounds and Death Rats burst from the earth. The werewolf and Sewer Rat King appeared, both now giant-sized and armed. Lastly, Ricky, the roach-man, stood coldly watching his former master and comrades.

  Luminus stood beside Fethan, Ninetails in hand. He had summoned Everland’s undead army to its limit. His nerves throbbed, but his show of force struck fear into the enemy.

  "Heh. Kid, you’ve lost your damn mind. How can you summon so many?! And Ricky—why are you with him?! You’re my servant! Come back!"

  Shaman could never forget the spirit he’d painstakingly raised. He had thought Fethan destroyed it, but seeing Ricky on the enemy side was worse than facing a hundred new spirits.

  "Ricky is free. Ricky is not a cursed spirit. Ricky doesn’t take orders from you!"

  "You dare defy me?! You—kid—I underestimated you."

  Shaman laughed. Turning a Tier 3 spirit in a day wasn’t striking gold—it was hitting a diamond mine.

  "GRRAA!!" The enemy spirits roared.

  "Woof!! (Kill them!)" the werewolf howled, leading the Everland army into battle.

  Milo targeted Fethan, but Ricky intercepted, slamming the mantis-man away with his powerful body. The Sewer Rat King faced off against the eight-limbed spider. The werewolf squared off with the lobster brute. Luminus dueled the scorpion wielder.

  The Death Rats and Hellhounds swarmed from the edges. Though Shaman’s cursed spirits were stronger, the undead army’s sheer numbers held them back.

  "Not bad, kid. Can’t beat quality with quantity? Then drown me in numbers. But you’re missing a key fact—normal spirits can’t stand against cursed spirits!"

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  Shaman raised his wand and buffed his cursed troops. They howled in agony before erupting in power. Their attacks grew sharper, faster, deadlier.

  Everland’s side began to falter. Only Ricky and Luminus could keep up. The rest struggled to hold the line.

  "Fethan! Boost us! We can’t hold like this!" Lumi shouted.

  "I can’t! There’s no spell to strengthen normal spirits! All buffs are for cursed spirits only—it doesn’t exist!"

  He flipped through notes—nothing.

  Lumi and the others weren’t cursed spirits. His spells couldn’t enhance them.

  "I told you! Not just stats—normal spirits cannot be supported by dark mage spells! Look at Ricky—he can’t keep up with Milo anymore. Because he’s no longer cursed. He’s a useless roach!"

  "Ricky… is not trash," Ricky growled.

  The time he spent serving Shaman had been pure misery. The man who created him also tortured him. Shaman had killed him, fused him with a roach, and turned him into a twisted hybrid. Ricky’s hatred was bottomless.

  Milo slashed with his massive blade-arm. Ricky dodged, then countered with his strongest kick. Milo knew the move and sidestepped—until:

  "Freeze like a corpse—Fixare!"

  Fethan snapped his wand. The curse slammed into Milo.

  [Cursed Spell: Paralysis Hex Activated]

  Milo froze. His mind blanked, body immobile. He resisted—but the curse pressed down, freezing him long enough.

  Ricky charged, energy concentrated in his leg, and kicked the mantis-man square in the neck. CRACK. The moment the curse ended, Milo’s body flew into Shaman.

  Shaman dodged, then retaliated.

  "Weaken and steal—Exhaurire!"

  [Cursed Spell: Power Drain Activated]

  A curse bullet struck Ricky. His spirit power rapidly drained, like water from a leaking tank. The spell transferred it to Shaman’s troops.

  Milo recovered quickly, eyes blazing red, and lunged with frenzied blows. His speed rivaled high-speed camera footage. If not for Ricky’s own speed, he would’ve been minced meat.

  ‘Ricky’s been cursed,’ Fethan realized. His status panel showed Ricky’s power dropping fast. The longer the fight dragged, the weaker he became—and Milo stronger.

  If Ricky fell, the battle would collapse.

  But—if Fethan could take down Milo first, Ricky would be free. That was the pivot point. The equation for victory formed in his mind.

  Fethan fired a gray spell bullet at Milo. It disrupted his attacks, letting Ricky strike back. But before the momentum shifted, the bullet was intercepted by a pre-placed brown shield.

  "Looks like we had the same idea! But did you really think I’d let it work that easily?"

  Shaman stepped between them. He sneered, blocking Fethan from interfering. But Fethan didn’t flinch—he fired another shot.

  Shaman raised a spirit shield again. The bullet failed—but Fethan kept shooting. Second shot. Third. Fourth.

  BANG.

  Shaman’s face changed as his prized shield cracked.

  "You little bastard… You summon armies and spam spells like candy. Don’t you know how to manage your mana?!"

  In Shaman’s view, Fethan was reckless. Every boosted spell cost double. Dark summoners were supposed to conserve energy—but Fethan didn’t care.

  Because Fethan had 400 spirit power. Most veteran dark mages like Shaman barely had 100.

  "You know what I never run out of? Spirit energy!"

  Fethan boasted. If he had one thing in spades—it was raw fuel.

  He fired again. Shaman wanted to raise another shield, but the cooldown wasn’t ready. He had no choice but to dodge and counterattack.

  "Burn—Phasma Ignis!"

  [Cursed Spell: Phantom Flame Activated]

  A black fireball shot from Shaman’s wand. It homed in—too fast. Fethan dodged—but didn’t notice it turning mid-air.

  "Fethan, behind you!"

  Luminus screamed. Too late. The fireball struck his back, burning skin and blistering flesh.

  Fethan hit the damp forest floor, screaming as smoke poured from his cloak. If not for the Reaper’s Cloak, his back would be a bloodied mess.

  "Not bad. Looks like you’re wearing something special. That’s not a normal outfit."

  Shaman mocked him, eyeing his gear greedily. Letting a novice like Fethan wield such treasures was a waste.

  Sweat beaded on Fethan’s brow. Every twitch of his back sent agony flaring. Phantom Flame was a homing curse—he had no time to react.

  Shaman raised his wand for the killing blow. Another cursed bullet. But Fethan rolled clear just in time.

  ‘How?! He got up?!’

  Shaman was shocked. His curse should’ve crippled him. But he didn’t know—Fethan’s curse resistance was over 40. Unless he used something stronger, it wouldn’t work.

  ‘Sorry, Lumi… but I have to use it.’

  Fethan’s eyes glowed. Spirit and magic surged. Negative emotions poured out as black flames engulfed his arm. Spirits screamed. A funeral dirge echoed as he raised his wand.

  ‘What is this?! This presence…’

  Shaman shuddered. Instinct screamed at him to flee. He chanted his strongest defense spell.

  "Burn until not even your soul remains—Exuro Animam!"

  Fethan cast the spell.

  [Cursed Spell: Flame Curse of Annihilation Activated]

  The flames writhed and struck Shaman’s brown shield. It shattered near-instantly. The explosion hurled him ten meters into a tree.

  "ARGHHH!"

  Shaman hit the ground, smoking. His clothes burned. His skin blistered. Sweat and blood soaked him.

  ‘What the hell was that curse?! I’ve never even heard of it! Don’t tell me—it’s from Gamo’s book?!’

  But he couldn’t know—it was a system spell.

  Fethan’s hand trembled from the recoil. The curse hadn’t killed Shaman—but it shook him to the core.

  "You useless slaves—help me!"

  Shaman screamed. His cursed spirits disengaged and ran to him. Luminus and the others didn’t stop them.

  ‘Strange… why’d they let them go so easily? Should’ve blocked them…’

  But it was already too late.

  All four spirits regrouped near Shaman.

  "In the name of the Eternal Dominion—I summon Azrael!"

  Fethan activated the system. He spent 10 Soul Coins.

  A black-cloaked figure appeared beside him.

  [Azrael]

  [Mysterious Spirit – Orange Grade, Tier 1]

  [Level: 20]

  [Race: Reaper]

  [HP: 200 / 200]

  [Spirit: 250 / 250]

  [STR: 15 | END: 1 | SPD: 10 | INT: 45 | SENSE: 20]

  Skills: [Nightmare of Spirits (A) LV4], [Reaper’s Curse (A) LV3], [Requiem of Death (A) LV6], [Reaper’s Scythe Technique (B+) LV6], [Soul Harvest (B) LV4], [Nameless Calamity (B) LV2]

  [Note: Due to lacking summoning authority, duration limited to 60 seconds.]

  The nameless reaper received a name from Fethan—Azrael. Now he was a loyal servant of the Eternal Dominion.

  The graveyard’s air turned icy. Even the wild spirits shivered in fear.

  Shaman stared blankly. What did cursed spirits fear most? Not dark mages. At worst, they enslaved them. But a Reaper—meant death.

  "Impossible… How did you obtain the power of a Reaper?!"

  Reapers were akin to gods in the world of curses. No one had ever claimed their power—until today.

  "Azrael—take their souls."

  "As… you… command."

  Azrael spoke for the first time. He knelt respectfully and took the wand. The moment his skeletal fingers touched it, it transformed into a massive scythe. His hollow eyes lit up red.

  He howled in the Reaper’s tongue.

  The cursed spirits recoiled.

  He slashed wide—scythe carving a two-meter arc. Even Milo struggled to keep up.

  "Now!"

  Fethan fired a support spell. Lumi, the werewolf, the Sewer Rat King, and their armies charged. Azrael’s curse weakened the enemy spirits, while their own remained untouched.

  Eastern Guardian Sword Style: Technique One – Demonic Severing Slash.

  Luminus cleaved the scorpion-man in half. Azrael synced with her movements, opening gaps. One down.

  The rest charged to protect their master—but against Azrael, they were prey.

  Cursed spirits drew strength from their user. Shaman, weakened by Fethan’s annihilation curse, had lost control.

  The spirits fell, one by one.

  [You have acquired: Tier 4 Cursed Spirit – Milo the Butcher (Purple – High Grade)]

  [You have acquired: Tier 3 Cursed Spirit – Morty the Bruiser (Purple – Grade 3)]

  [You have acquired: Tier 3 Cursed Spirit – Joey the Brawler (Purple – Grade 3)]

  [You have acquired: Tier 3 Cursed Spirit – Agasa the Scourger (Purple – Grade 3)]

  [Quest Complete! Rewards Received: 1x Fusion Booster Card, 20 Soul Coins, 1x 3-Month Tax Card, 1x Spell Upgrade Card]

  [Congratulations! You have leveled up!]

  [Congratulations! You have leveled up!]

  [Congratulations! You have leveled up!]