Reincarnated in a novel: I am the villain!-Chapter 265: Butler or Butcher?

On the other end, unlike Alaric and the others, Alfred’s journey was completely devoid of people

Reaching the border of the eastern wastelands, despite it being his second time here, he still sighed at the sight in front of him

The border itself seemed to be a scar on the world, a constant reminder of the bloodshed and death that took place there.

To the west, the grass of the continent was lush and green, swaying in a gentle breeze. To the east, the world simply... died.

The green stopped abruptly, replaced by an endless ocean of grey ash and jagged rock. The sky above the Wastelands was a perpetual bruise of swirling charcoal clouds that blocked the sun.

It was hard to believe that such a place existed, separate from the outside world. A scene that only made you wonder, just what kind of battle took place here that changed the geography permanently

ZZZT.

Space distorted at the very edge of the grass. A vertical slit of violet light tore open the air.

Alfred stepped out.

He looked impeccable. His black tailcoat was pressed to perfection. His white gloves were spotless. His silver-rimmed glasses reflected the dull light of the grey sky.

"Coordinates confirmed," Alfred stated, checking his pocket watch. "Right on schedule."

He put the watch away and looked at the grey expanse ahead.

"The Eastern Wastelands," Alfred critiqued, wrinkling his nose slightly. "An aesthetic disaster."

He took a step forward, crossing the invisible line between the living world and the dead zone.

"?"

The moment his polished shoe hit the grey ash, his world tilted.

THUD.

Alfred stumbled.

It was a shocking sight. Alfred, the man who moved with the grace of a phantom, nearly fell face-first into the dirt.

He caught himself at the last second, bracing his hand against a dead, petrified tree stump.

"Urgh..." Alfred grunted, clutching his chest.

It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the world.

His 7th Order Core, usually a roaring furnace of power, went silent. The mana that constantly flowed through his veins, reinforcing his muscles and lightening his step, was severed instantly.

This was the main feature of this place, under the disorders and annihilated laws, mana was almost completely useless here. Hence, his normal abilities could not work.

Not only that, but he wasn’t just cut off from the outside world; his whole body felt like lead, extremely heavy.

Without the passive enhancement of mana, his own body felt like it weighed three times as much. The gravity of the Wastelands pulled at his bones.

Alfred stood up slowly, breathing hard. He adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down his nose.

"Displeasing," Alfred muttered, straightening his tie.

He looked down at his shoe. The pristine black leather was now covered in a layer of fine, grey dust.

Reflexively, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

"[Cleanse]."

Nothing happened. No spark. No wind. The dust remained.

Alfred stared at his hand. He snapped again..

"How long ago was it since I first had acces to magic," Alfred sighed, the annoyance evident in his voice.

"It seems I am going to have to do my own laundry."

Yes, at this moment, he couldn’t rely on magic. Teleportation was impossible, even his special space for keeping things was sluggish

Usually, retrieving an item took a thought. Now, he had to physically reach into the pocket of space and pull.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his hand into the spatial ripple. It felt like reaching through thick molasses.

"Open..." Alfred strained, his muscles bulging beneath the suit. "...you... stubborn... bag!"

POP.

His hand broke the seal..

He pulled out a set of Adamantite Throwing Knives.

He strapped the bandolier under his coat. Next, he pulled out a spool of Monofilament Wire, a thread so thin it was invisible to the naked eye, but strong enough to cut through steel. He wound it around his gloved fingers.

"If I cannot be a Mage," Alfred stated, testing the tension of the wire,

"Then I shall simply have to be a Butcher."

He looked at the endless grey hills. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Elder Magnus... you certainly picked a difficult place to retire."

......

Alfred began to walk.

It was grueling. Every step sank into the deep ash. The wind howled, carrying grit that stung his face.

Within an hour, his perfect suit was dusted grey, a tragedy that pained him more than the physical exertion.

Two miles in, he found it.

It was a mountain of rotting meat.

The carcass of the Obsidian Hydra, the beast someone had slain days ago lay half-buried in the sand. It was massive, the size of a small house.

Alfred approached it cautiously. The smell was horrendous.

He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose.

"Let us see how you died," Alfred whispered, crouching down to examine the corpse.

He touched the shattered scales.

"No burn marks," Alfred noted. "No frost. No lightning residue."

Usually, a 7th Order Mage like Magnus would leave traces of elemental destruction. But this beast looked like it had been beaten to death with a giant hammer.

Alfred moved to the neck.

It was even impaled.

Sticking out of the Hydra’s throat was a black spike. Alfred tried to touch it, but it crumbled into black dust upon contact.

"Solidified Shadow," Alfred realized, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

Shadow Magic was usually intangible used for stealth, binding, or corruption. But Magnus had condensed it so densely that it became physical matter.

He had turned mana into a solid object to bypass the vacuum’s dispersion effect.

"As expected, he’s still alive," Alfred stood up, dusting off his knees. " And he seems to be quite strong to be able to use shadow mana here."

Alfred looked at the tracks leading away from the carcass, heavy, deep footprints heading deeper into the wasteland.

"Sixteen years in this wasteland," Alfred whispered, a rare look of respect crossing his face.

"Very well, Elder. Let us see if I can catch up."

He began to follow the trail, a lone figure in black walking into this dangerous area of the world, without mana to escape, only his will to complete his task.