Chapter 11

I had lost the way out.

All around me were black walls. Completely dark, yet strangely the inside was bright.

The space wasn’t wide, nor was it narrow. Empty, with no pillars.

For four days I searched for something resembling a door, but found nothing.

I returned to the center. There was a small table, much like the ones I used to share meals on with Jack and Neef.

It too was pitch black.

Almost instinctively, I slid the top sideways. A heavy thud echoed, and the familiar inside revealed itself.

I’d discovered it on the first day. Yesterday, I had cautiously opened it for the first time. This was the first time I truly examined it.

Inside were three crystalline objects, glimmering. They emitted their own light—light that almost seemed to move. Just looking at them was so mesmerizing I nearly lost myself.

The three crystals were arranged in a triangle. Beside them sat a small box engraved with strange drawings.

Something about the crystals made me not want to touch them. Their placement felt too deliberate, too ominous. So I opened the box instead.

A burst of light exploded.

My eyes burned, pain so sharp I wanted to scream—but couldn’t.

[Heir… heir… heir…]

A voice echoed from nowhere. I fainted and woke, fainted and woke, over and over again.

The dragon opened its eyes.

Power close to its very essence shone in them.

Each deep-blue scale gleamed like the toughest armor in the world, while a faint golden radiance wrapped its vast body.

With every breath the Gold Dragon exhaled, mana around it trembled. Its breath carried pure mana, and the world shivered in response.

“Force Lead…”

Someone had intruded upon the Gold Dragon’s lair.

A voice so low—so deep it was almost beyond the realm of mortals.

Yet the Gold Dragon did not show hostility.

[Claudia, being of Hell…]

“Has the mortal world prepared itself?”

[Our kind has long awaited the moment.]

“This Force Lead will be the vessel.”

At Claudia’s words, the Gold Dragon exhaled heavily.

The Force Lead—born of the world itself. Dragons, as beings who mediated the world, were always inevitably tied to its arrival.

“Greed, dominion, rule…”

Claudia, being of Hell, let their¹ heavy gray mantle sway. It was the very symbol of their authority. Then their figure vanished.

The Gold Dragon kept its gaze fixed on the place where they had stood, long after they were gone.

Thoom!

My mana-charged fist struck the black wall. Only dust scattered. The wall did not budge.

That strike held enough power to shatter a boulder the size of a house—yet against this wall, it was useless.

“Haa…”

I steadied my breath and dropped my stance.

I had gained mana—and learned to wield it—only after opening the box with strange drawings.

Not long after, the three luminous crystals had given me power.

The strange drawings had been a magic circle, and the box contained knowledge—of magic and of swordsmanship.

The swordsmanship was the martial art of a warrior from another world. The magic was the legacy of a mage from an ancient kingdom.

It took me more than a year to make all of that knowledge mine. I studied for over a year, because only by doing so could I gain the power to escape this place.

Had I not eaten the Totoro fruit, I would’ve died long ago. I was truly lucky.

A little over a year later, once I had mastered both the magic and the swordsmanship etched into my mind, something astonishing happened.

A spell surfaced within me.

When I spoke it aloud, the three crystals blazed brilliantly and shot their power into me.

Only later did I learn what they were—refined Dragon Hearts.

The Dragon Hearts had given me mana. I trained again, this time with that gift. Even now, their mana continued to seep slowly into me.

I sat cross-legged.

As I circulated my cultivation method, mana flowed along its predetermined meridians.

Dumaine devoted to training half of each day. Yet there was no more progress. The moment he realized that clearly, a deep slump set in.

“Haaah… haaah!”

The training yard looked worse than a battlefield struck by a typhoon. With no proper equipment left, the practice dummies were unrecognizable shreds.

That slump had lasted five years already.

Only the Mana Elixir could break this stagnation and let him leap to the next realm.

To get it, he needed the Demon King’s Temple mission—an assignment promised through that detestable mage, Hazabut. Yet even after a year, there had been no word. The schedule was delayed, and delayed again. That was why his training grew harsher, more violent by the day.

“Here it is, my lord.”

He snatched the dry towel from his attendant’s hands without a shred of grace. The servant flinched.

Eight years he had served him, yet he had never seen him so rough, so volatile.

“Any messages?”

“Two, my lord. One from the Magic Tower.”

Lately, Tower news was the only thing he truly waited for. After nearly a month, the attendant even felt a flicker of hope. Whenever word came from the Tower, his master’s mood always brightened.

“From the Tower?”

His guess was right. He couldn’t hide his satisfaction.

“Yes. The details are inside…”

“Good.”

He strode off, his red cloak whipping through the air.

“Five days from now?”

“Yes, Sir Dumaine.”

Facing him was a 4th-class mage from the Tower, one of Hazabut’s direct disciples. He was also included in the coming expedition to the Demon King’s Temple.

“Five days? That’s absurdly sudden. This time, it’s certain, yes?”

His voice was low, thick with suppressed anger. This wasn’t a picnic—it was the Demon King’s Temple. To only be told five days in advance… it was natural his expression hardened.

“The mana field’s patterns showed that the optimal and predictable interval was five days from now. Ah, a mana field is an artificial flow of mana that—”

“Enough. I didn’t summon you for a lecture. You’re not here to teach, are you?”

He didn’t even try to hide his irritation. His dismissive gesture made the mage grind his teeth inside, but outwardly he nodded.

“Departure is in five days. Please come to the Tower’s second underground level. You will be guided from there.”

“Has the plan changed in any way?”

“No changes yet, sir. It will remain as decided.”

“Not precise enough. I’ll make my own preparations.”

The mage’s face stiffened at the blatant dismissal.

‘Untrustworthy bastards…’

Dumaine judged the mages inwardly. Even with all their supposed discipline and spiritual refinement, if they couldn’t control their base desires, they were no different from common folk. And now, after promising departure within half a month, the mission had been delayed this far.

“Then I’ll see you in five days. You may leave.”

“Then… I shall.”

The mage cast Dumaine one last glance before returning to the Tower.

Five days later, they departed for the Desert of Death.

As time passed, I grew stronger. Yet I still couldn’t leave this place.

The walls bore countless marks where my attacks had struck, some gouges deeper than the rest. If only I had a little more mana, I could dig faster and deeper—until I broke through to the outside. Then I could return to a village without fear of any desert monster.

That single goal was what kept me alive day after day.

“Isn’t there a way…?”

If I could absorb the Dragon Hearts a little faster, I could shorten the time. I couldn’t stay here forever. I wanted to see the village chief, Grandpa, again—if only for a single day.

That fragile hope was all I had left.

I reviewed the knowledge of magic and martial arts. Was there a way?

Among the martial arts was the concept of Absorption. I combed through every formula engraved in my memory. I found a connection—something linked to absorption. Then I spent days studying and testing it.

“Got it!”

Absorption welled up from my palm.

For days I practiced controlling the pull. And now—it was time to attempt it on the refined Dragon Hearts.

I pressed my hand against it. The resistance from its immense mana was overwhelming.

Slowly, carefully, I guided the flow through my meridians, trying to draw it in.

Raw, titanic mana poured into my palm. My hand felt like it was tearing apart.

“Ghhk!”

The force hurled me away. Blood spilled from my lips. My entire body pulsed with mana.

In that brief instant, I had taken in more than my body could bear. It wasn’t time yet.

I dropped into a cross-legged stance.

Breathing steady, I calmed the rampaging energy. I directed it through my meridians, storing it in the circle near my heart and the lower dantian beneath my navel.

“Haa…”

After long hours, I rose. Strength surged through me—more than ever before.

But something was wrong.

The flow of mana from the Dragon Hearts had increased.

Before, it had been like droplets. Now, it poured like a thin stream. If it kept up, I would soon reach my limit.

I immediately sat again, focusing on suppressing and controlling it.

Days later, even my cultivation method couldn’t keep pace. My concentration faltered, and my vessel for mana was too small.

The mana kept filling me.

When the circle near my heart and my dantian overflowed, it spread through the rest of my body.

What should I do?

My greed had brought this upon me.

Mana flooded me to bursting. What should I do? I had to release it.

Acting on instinct, I straightened my posture and cast a spell.

Fwoosh!

A fireball the size of my head flared before me. It drained only a tiny bit.

I kept casting. Spell after spell, hurling them at the black wall.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Dust exploded with each impact.

Even after casting until I was drained, only half the mana had left my body.

I wanted to keep blasting until I was empty, but my stamina gave out. Panting, I steadied my breathing—while more mana continued to fill me.

I forced myself up and rained fire until exhaustion claimed me.

It was better than cultivation alone. Firing spells and using martial techniques widened my vessel. Pushing myself to the limit, then guiding the energy again—over and over—it expanded.

By sheer accident, I had found a new breakthrough. My body trembled with joy.

With this method, I could grow faster. Escape sooner.

So I kept at it, repeating the cycle for a long, long time.