Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Final Mana

Clashes among blade-wielders were clear and straightforward.

For that very reason, the gladiator’s craft continued to flourish across Serdes. Its directness made it easily understood, and that simplicity kept the action plainly visible. The real thrill lay in observing the subtle mind games played within such clear-cut boundaries.

The craft of sorcery, on the other hand, stood in direct contrast.

It was an esoteric discipline ruled by rigid, insurmountable divides. The fundamental obstacle was the staggering chasm separating one Circle from another. In the unyielding reality of sorcery, stepping up by even a solitary Circle tilted the chances of triumph past ninety-five percent.

Even so, a tiny five-percent window for the unexpected always endured.

Certain extraordinary prodigies could erase a decade of diligent study in a single afternoon.

Ferda Valdrova, who now held Marquis Burnell’s rapt attention, was the living proof of such an anomaly.

‘Magic Intercept?’

It was an advanced art that entailed wresting away an enemy’s formed incantation and turning the force back on its caster. Such a pinnacle art was an extreme rarity, seldom witnessed even during clashes between grand masters.

‘Isn’t that a feat reserved solely for sorcerers of at least the 5th Circle…?’

Only a 5th Circle Master Mage—a scholar possessing a transcendent grasp of metaphysical truths and flawless command over mana—would dare attempt such a thing. In spite of that, Ferda stood merely at the 2nd Circle, a standing that Burnell himself technically surpassed.

‘Yet, conceptually, I have heard it can be done at the 2nd Circle.’

The 2nd Circle: the stage of the Spell Blower.

This tier earned its title because it marked the point where practitioners initially began forming formal incantations, knitting magical structures out of strands of mana. Even so, the resulting craftsmanship was typically unrefined, frail, and lacking in nuance—derided as merely exhaling or blowing out crude energy.

‘Yet theory remains nothing more than theory.’

The annals of magic were packed with principles that functioned strictly on parchment.

‘And now, he is executing an actual Magic Intercept.’

It might have been valid in abstract discussions, but no practitioner had ever brought it to life. If this truly was a Magic Intercept, Burnell was watching history being rewritten before his very eyes.

Having traveled back to the past and attempting a Magic Intercept for the first time in this era, Ferda’s internal reaction was modest:

‘Just as I anticipated, it poses no real challenge.’

If a Mana Walker masters the singular point, then a Spell Blower achieves control over the extended line. That line-work allowed one to construct a functional plane—the woven fabric of a functioning spell.

‘The only incantation at my disposal right now is Mana Shot.’

Having attained the status of Archmage in his prior life, he had discarded basic 2nd Circle formulas from his memory and had not bothered studying them again.

‘Still, this will suffice completely.’

Though simple, it remained the sharpest tool for this engagement. Diverting focus to shape raw mana into distinct elements was a waste; unrefined mana served the purpose far better.

At the very least, it worked wonders on an aberration.

‘I have dragged monsters back alive more times than memory serves.’

During his past dealings with the Demon Follower, Thesalos, the man had continually demanded living specimens. Slaying them was simple work, but preserving their breath took genuine craftsmanship. Through those illicit exchanges with Thesalos, Ferda had mastered the distinct physiological and arcane traits of these horrors.

‘Which led me to the inevitable conclusion.’

The reality was utterly straightforward.

Prolonged exposure to tainted mana causes a human being to wither away. Conversely, for these cancerous abominations sustained by corruption, pure mana functioned as a deadly toxin.

Ferda was currently forcing that very poison straight into the beast’s vital core.

With the abomination unable to release its corrupted energy and suffering from this pure infusion, its hyper-regeneration and immense physical might seized up. It was identical to thrusting an iron spike into the gears of a running machine.

‘The gear will snap eventually, but this halts its momentum for now.’

Ferda sent his initial projectile directly toward the bear monster’s head. He arched the projectile skyward to mask its path, bringing it down squarely upon the crown of the beast’s skull.

Boom!

Had the target been an ordinary person, the strike would have pulverized bone to paste.

Roaaaaar!

Yet the bear monster merely bellowed in fury, its natural endurance bolstered by its mana saturation. The skull took a heavy dent, yet the trauma remained non-fatal.

Ferda shifted his glance toward Burnell. “Form a large one.”

“Understood!”

While Burnell gathered a massive orb, Ferda quickly prepared a follow-up strike. This time, he curved the trajectory sideways. Rather than falling from the sky, the projectile whipped around in an arc to slam into the side of the head.

Boom!

The impact threw the bear monster’s head back with tremendous violence.

Roaaaaar!

Driven completely wild with rage, the creature unleashed a deafening cry. It shifted its massive paws, scanning frantically for the source of the pain.

Ferda seized the moment immediately. Four compact spheres materialized around his outstretched fingers.

“Release it.”

Burnell cast his massive orb into the firing path. Ferda snatched control of it mid-flight with his own mana. Combining it with the four projectiles hovering at his fingertips, he fired the entire payload in a straight trajectory toward the creature’s chest.

Boom!

A single Mana Shot detonated prematurely in mid-air. The blast wave served as a violent thruster, hurling the remaining spheres forward at extreme velocity. The three smaller projectiles Ferda had created spun into a tight drill, striking the chest first.

Crash!

Three detonations struck in rapid succession. The continuous bursts shredded the dark hide across the breast, laying bare the raw, pulsating flesh beneath. Then, the massive orb supplied by Burnell slammed into the exposed opening.

Driving inward.

The combined force and spinning inertia dug straight into the meat.

Even deeper.

And then, it erupted.

KABOOM!!

A violent conflagration engulfed the entirety of the bear monster’s massive frame.

“Gah!” Burnell cried out in astonishment. ‘Was my mana sphere truly capable of such destruction?’

He recognized the raw mana as his own, yet the resulting devastation far exceeded anything he could generate independently. Ferda, despite ranking merely as a 2nd Circle mage, was directing Burnell’s power as though it were his own, refining its output to a terrifying level.

Ferda kept his gaze locked onto the swirling curtain of smoke. ‘Reveal yourself.’

As the haze drifted away, the target was uncovered. The creature’s frame was utterly battered. Its dark coat had been blasted away, leaving behind raw, mutilated purple flesh. Broken bones and mangled organs were plainly exposed beneath the gore.

Ferda focused intently on the chest. ‘The heart is still beating.’

That organ was the engine of its vitality, and it continued to pulse with strength. With every heavy surge, the beast’s torn flesh began weaving itself back together.

‘Hyper-regeneration.’

It possessed far more than stubborn resilience; its mending speed vastly outstripped that of common beasts.

‘This must be settled immediately.’

The monster was momentarily paralyzed, unable to move a single limb. Should it regain its mobility, Ferda’s group would face disaster.

“Time to press the advantage.”

Having settled his course, Ferda formed a flurry of projectiles around his fingers and called out to his companion.

“Burnell! Release them the moment they take shape!”

“Yes, sir!”

Ferda launched an unrelenting bombardment directly at the exposed vital core.

Gurgle. Gurgle.

Taking continuous strikes to its vital center, the bear’s frame shuddered while it dragged in ragged breaths. Ferda’s projectiles hammered the exposed heart over and over, ripping the flesh open each time it attempted to mend.

It became a battle of endurance: would Ferda’s mana deplete first, or would the beast’s recovery collapse? It was a brutal struggle centered on a single open wound.

‘Given the creature’s immense bulk, this is dragging on longer than I would prefer.’

Success was by no means guaranteed. Had he retained his 5th Circle status, he could have resolved the matter with a simple thought, but relying on the combined mana reserves of a 2nd and 3rd Circle left almost no margin for error.

‘My head is spinning.’

Burnell felt on the verge of sickness. His senses were clouded, as though he had spent hours breathing heavy oil fumes. The rapid draining of his mana was fracturing his awareness and eroding his concentration.

‘Have I ever burned through mana at such a terrifying rate?’

Never before. As a dedicated researcher, he required only enough power to conduct his academic studies. He had always reserved more than half of his mana pool for safety. Now, with Ferda pressing an intense assault, Burnell was emptying his own spiritual wellspring just to keep pace. He was down to scarcely twenty percent of his capacity. At best, he had enough power for three more spheres before his reserves hit rock bottom.

Uncertainty began to creep in as he looked toward the Regent. ‘He has utilized far more energy than I have… how is he still casting?’

By a rough estimate, Ferda had produced triple the number of attacks Burnell had released. Burnell glanced at Ferda’s face, and his eyes went wide with alarm.

‘H-His nose is bleeding!’

For an incantation caster, a sudden nosebleed during spellwork carried a single, ominous meaning.

‘Overload!’

It was a dangerous condition triggered when a practitioner funneled excessive focus into a single locus, surpassing the natural limits of their frame.

‘If he pushes any further, he will suffer Mana Burnout…!’

In the most catastrophic outcome, it resulted in irreversible damage, leaving a caster crippled and permanently stripped of the ability to calculate basic mana structures for life.

‘He entered this fray without so much as a staff, and now…’

A staff acted as a vital anchor to steady the flow of magic. Ferda was processing every calculation entirely within his mind. An overload was practically guaranteed.

“Burnell.” Ferda called out, his tone remaining unnervingly steady.

“Y-Yes?”

“Maintain your focus.”

Burnell’s rising dread dissipated instantly at the sound of that unwavering voice.

‘Indeed. Keep your wits. What worth is a Blue Circle practitioner who loses his composure?’

It was an embarrassing comparison. Ferda, possessing only a Red Circle, stood firm as stone, while Burnell, a Blue Circle, was falling apart.

‘I truly… possessed no real determination,’ Burnell admitted to himself.

Had he ever genuinely prepared to risk his life for his scholarly ambitions?

‘No. I never did.’

He had assumed he could simply remain comfortable in a study. He believed he could analyze the specimens captured by others and usher in an era of peace from the safety of his desk. Yet here stood Ferda, wagering his very future for the sake of Burnell’s enterprise. He was risking Mana Burnout—the spiritual death of a mage.

‘I must stake everything as well…!’

Burnell confronted his own hesitation, using it to push past his limits.

“Uuuuugh!”

Burnell dragged out every remnant of his reserve, converting his very vitality into usable mana.

“Regent!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, displaying a raw bravery foreign to the mild-mannered scholar. “Accept my final mana!!”

He pushed a massive, brilliant sphere into Ferda’s grip.

“Much appreciated.”

Ferda caught the orb, aligned it with his flow of power, and drove it directly into the bear monster’s chest cavity.

KABOOM!

A colossal blast shattered the beast from within. Its thrashing limbs and visible regeneration came to an immediate halt.

“The heart?”

Had the core been destroyed entirely, the capture would end in failure. Ferda peered into the smoky opening with intense focus.

‘It continues to beat.’

The creature was barely hanging on to life, its hyper-regeneration completely suppressed.

“Now! Cut the tendons and secure the bindings!”

Arwen and his accompanying warriors rushed forward, surrounding the fallen abomination. The work was as effortless as taking a seat at a prepared banquet. They had secured the monster alive without losing a single soldier.

Ferda shifted his gaze toward Burnell. “Can you stand?”

Burnell was trembling against the earth, blood running from his nostrils. He had succumbed to absolute Mana Burnout. Even while enduring agony that felt as if his organs were being torn apart, a faint smile crossed his lips.

“Haha… H-How was that? D-Did you see… my commitment?”

Ferda spoke flatly. “You acted recklessly. Throwing away your safety like that.”

“I-If the Regent is laying everything on the line, how could I hold back…?”

The scholar lost consciousness before he could even finish the thought. Ferda laid him down with care.

“Are you unharmed, Regent?” Arwen inquired as he approached.

“Is the abomination secured?”

“Yes. Its state is… stable. We will organize transport to the stronghold without delay.”

“Good. However, we must address the immediate crisis first. Do you have a practitioner residing within your domain?”

“We do.”

Ferda indicated the unconscious scholar on the grass. “Take this fool and have them administer a mana infusion. The route to the capital is long, so his recovery rests in your hands.”

Arwen placed a hand over his chest and inclined his head. “As you command. However, Regent, do you not require urgent care as well?”

“For what reason?”

Arwen gestured toward his own nose. “You are bleeding from your nose.”

“A nosebleed?” Ferda swept a hand across his face. Cold blood came away on his skin. “I see.”

So deep had his concentration been that Ferda had not even registered the injury.

“I have heard that pushing mana beyond normal limits can trigger bleeding. Should you feel faint, your recovery should take precedence.”

“No, I am quite well.” Ferda cleaned his face. After a few presses, the blood stopped flowing. “I may take chances, but I am hardly the sort of fool who wagers his life needlessly.”

He was willing to gamble when necessary, but he had no intention of ending his own existence. In truth, he still retained sufficient mana to cast several more incantations.

“A loose stone must have caught my face when the blast went off. It seems it struck my nose.”

Ferda looked down at Burnell, who had driven himself into complete overload and wrecked his own body over a total misunderstanding. He could only regard the scholar with a deep sense of pity.