Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“What exactly do you mean by this?” Margrave Valhardt asked, his face dumbfounded.

“Hm? Did I say something complicated? The Empresses’ will is clear…”

“No, no. Why on earth would we stop the war with the northern barbarians?”

Duke Torben Dux looked at Valhardt as if the question was absurd.

“Why would we need to continue the war?”

“Even without that barren northern land, the Empire’s territory is vast—too vast, in fact. We can barely manage to deal with the monsters within our borders.”

“Tell me, what benefit is there for our Empire in holding onto those harsh, unyielding lands in the north that can’t even grow a single stalk of wheat?”

“But the war with the barbaroi isn’t something that happened overnight. The deep-seated animosity between us can’t just be dismissed at the whim of the Empresses…” Valhardt argued.

“Valhardt,” Duke Dux’s voice dropped, his tone suddenly more serious.

“Is that truly all you’ve taken away from this long war?”

In that moment, Margrave Valhardt began to feel that the image he had held of the strong warrior Torben Dux was beginning to falter. Naturally, his own tone became less respectful.

“What are you suggesting I should have learned?”

“This war was born from the greed of the former Emperor. It was a war no one wanted, a war driven by the vile conquest lust of an old man who simply wanted more land.”

Valhardt was momentarily speechless. This was the first time he had heard Duke Dux openly criticize the previous Emperor in such stark terms.

“What crime did those you call ‘barbarians’ commit? They fought against the relentless onslaught of the Imperial army purely for their survival.”

“But we both know who killed the most of those barbarians!” Valhardt retorted.

“Yes, you’re right. That was me.”

“You were the greatest soldier, the finest knight! Everything you’ve accomplished was forged on this northern front!”

“I won’t deny that.”

“And yet now, you’re denying the very meaning of this war?”

“Because I regret it,” Dux replied calmly.

“Regret?!” Valhardt echoed, stunned. It was a word he never expected to hear from the Duke.

“Yes, regret. Those barbarians were proud warriors and fathers fighting to protect their families. Though we found ourselves in a situation where we had to kill each other, I respected them deeply.”

“That’s utter nonsense!” 

“So the countless barbarians I killed are a burden of regret weighing down on me like a stone. With the new Empresses’ decree, I thought I might finally be able to shed that burden, which is why I volunteered to come all this way.”

Regret. The word echoed in margrave Valhardt’s mind. For him, the only regret he harbored was not killing more of those savages. But to hear that the knight he respected most carried the opposite regret in his heart—he found it unbelievable.

“Do you not remember? On the front lines where we fought together, the strongest and most exceptional warrior wasn’t me. It wasn’t any knight in armor on horseback. It was…” 

Before Duke Dux could finish, Valhardt could no longer contain himself. He rose abruptly from his seat. Though Duke Dux had aged, so had Valhardt. However, his spirit remained bound to those snowy battlefields where they had once charged together, spear in hand.

Valhardt lowered his gaze, unable to meet Duke Dux’s eyes as he spoke.

“Your Grace, please leave.”

“I cannot comprehend the Empresses’ command. How many of our comrades have died at their hands? I cannot forgive them. And I cannot follow your will either, sir.”

Though Valhardt did not see it, Duke Dux looked at his old subordinate with a pained expression.

“Wife, let’s go,” Duke Dux said.

Duchess Melina nodded slightly. Duke Dux was the first to leave the drawing room, followed by Duchess Melina, who, ever the epitome of decorum, offered a final respectful nod to Duke Valhardt before leaving.

Outside the manor, the Duchess spoke.

“You’ve changed a lot.”

“In the past, you would have been furious at someone like Valhardt for behaving that way.”

“Well, I’ve aged,” Dux replied.

“I think it’s more than just that,” the Duchess said with a faint smile.

Dux let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Valhardt wasn’t always like this. Time seems to have left him behind.”

“People who live in red rooms believe the whole world is red.”

“…What do you mean by that, my dear?”

“I mean that long-held hatred has blinded him.”

Duke Dux nodded in agreement with his wife.

“Regardless, we can’t allow him to defy the Empresses’ will. We’ll give him a few days, then we’ll return. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the northern air that I’ve missed so much.”

“I don’t like the cold…”

Duke Dux and the Duchess melted into the crowd in the borderlands, looking just like an ordinary middle-aged couple.

Meanwhile, Binaeril and his friends drove the magic carriage back to the Senega tribe’s village.

“How many times are we going to go back and forth to the same place in one day?” 

Priya’s grumbling was quickly drowned out by Inyakan’s furious roar.

“Senega Khan! Come out here! If you’re not a coward, show yourself now!”

As if on cue, the Senega Khan emerged from within the village.

“Aren’t these the same impostors we saw earlier?”

“What nonsense are you spouting? There’s only one impostor.”

“Inyakan isn’t an impostor, Dominic,” Binaeril interjected.

“Did you come here to blow off steam after getting beaten up by the Cherokee?”

Inyakan didn’t bother responding to his question. Instead, he asked one of his own.

“Where is the Cherokee Khan?”

“What are you talking about? This is the Senega tribe. If you’re looking for the Cherokee Khan, go ask the Cherokee.”

Inyakan grabbed the Senega Khan by the head and lifted him off the ground with one hand.

“Gah! Gaaahhh!”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes. Tell me where the Cherokee Khan is.”

“Y-you bastards! Don’t just stand there—help me!”

The Senega Khan struggled in vain, unable to escape Inyakan’s grip. The warriors of the Senega tribe weren’t about to stand idly by as their Khan was manhandled. Warriors emerged from all corners of the village, surrounding Inyakan and his companions.

“I don’t really want to get involved,” Priya muttered.

“Then stay out of it, sis,” Binaeril replied.

Priya retreated to the background, distancing herself from the impending fight.

“Can I kill them?” Inyakan asked.

“Please try to just incapacitate them,” Binaeril answered.

Dominic and Binaeril readied themselves for battle.

“What are you doing? Are you just going to watch until my skull gets cracked open?” the Senega Khan shouted, prompting the Senega warriors to charge.

Dominic lowered his stance, preparing to draw his sword. Seeing this, Binaeril quickly shouted a warning.

Reluctantly, Dominic drew his sword more slowly, using the flat of the blade to strike the charging warriors. From Dominic’s perspective, he was holding back, but to the warriors, his attacks were lightning-fast and brutal. One by one, those struck by Dominic’s blade fell unconscious.

Realizing Dominic was too formidable to approach, the remaining warriors shifted their focus to Binaeril, who appeared to be the easier target—especially compared to the scarred and intimidating Dominic.

‘This feels familiar,’ Binaeril thought with a sense of unease as he began to gather his mana.

But as soon as he started chanting his spell, he realized his mistake. This was the harsh, frigid land of Barbaroana.

The barbaroi warriors had a strong resistance to cold, making them less susceptible to ice magic. Binaeril quickly prepared a follow-up spell in his mind, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

“It’s so cold!”

“My legs! I can’t move my legs!”

Contrary to Binaeril’s worries, the lower bodies of the warriors touched by his magic froze solid with surprising ease. Panic spread among them as they struggled with their ice-encased limbs.

Seeing his warriors so easily incapacitated, the Senega Khan shouted, “Bekom! Help me, Bekom!”

At his call, the largest man among the tribe members charged forward, ramming into Inyakan with all his might. Inyakan had to release Indigo and step back, recognizing that Bekom’s strength was not to be underestimated.

“You fools dare not fear the name of Inyakan!” Inyakan roared.

Clutching his aching head, Indigo sneered in response. “He’s still going on about that! Bekom, kill him!”

While Inyakan grappled with Bekom, Indigo took the opportunity to jump into the fray. With Inyakan distracted, Bekom managed to grab him from behind, wrapping his massive arms around Inyakan’s torso.

“Got him!”

“That’s it, Bekom!” Indigo grinned triumphantly.

The warriors of the Senega tribe were generally smaller and less powerful than other barbaroi. But Bekom was different—like a genetic anomaly. He was known to have strangled a bear to death with his bare hands. Surely, this imposter’s ribs would now be crushed under Bekom’s immense strength…

But something wasn’t right.

What Indigo expected to be the satisfying sound of Inyakan’s pained screams instead turned into something entirely different—a low, frustrated groan from Bekom. Inyakan’s expression remained calm, almost serene, while Bekom’s face turned as red as a ripe tomato, veins bulging with effort.

“Guh… Ahhh!”

“What’s this? Are you even trying?” Inyakan mocked, a smirk forming on his lips.

As Inyakan flexed his arms and chest, the tables turned. Bekom, despite his formidable strength, found himself on the receiving end of the pain. Unable to endure it any longer, Bekom’s arms gave way, and he released Inyakan.

“This is how you use strength, kid!” Inyakan declared, swiftly wrapping his own arms around Bekom’s waist.

With a sickening crack, Bekom’s spine twisted to an unnatural angle, leaving him incapacitated. Indigo couldn’t believe his eyes. How could Bekom, of all people, be overpowered?

“Inyakan, there’s no need to kill him!” Binaeril shouted.

“I didn’t kill him. I just made sure he won’t be using his back again,” Inyakan replied nonchalantly, letting Bekom’s limp body fall to the ground.

As Inyakan dealt with Bekom, the remaining warriors, who had been hesitating, shifted their focus to Priya, who had been standing back from the fight. Unfortunately for them, it was the worst decision they could have made.

“I warned you not to target me,” Priya sighed.

The warriors who rushed at her were swallowed by a sudden blast of icy wind, disappearing into the snowstorm, never to return. Meanwhile, Binaeril and Dominic quickly dispatched the remaining warriors.

The last few fighters, realizing they were outmatched, drew their weapons in desperation. But something caught Dominic’s eye.

“Wait a minute… isn’t that an Imperial sword?” Dominic asked, his sharp gaze fixated on the uniform blades in their hands.

The weapons the barbaroi warriors wielded were identical to the standardized swords used by the Empire. As a former knight who had once held the position of a knight commander in a marquisate, Dominic recognized the swords immediately.

“Now that you mention it, their clothes are a bit too thick for barbaroi,” Binaeril noted.

“And their fighting style is different from that brute,” Priya added.

“These guys… they’re Imperial soldiers, aren’t they?” the three of them concluded, each voicing their suspicions.

Inyakan, his face twisted in anger, loomed over Indigo and demanded, “Care to explain what’s going on here, cowardly Khan?”