Poll's eyes narrowed, his voice calm yet commanding. "Not happening."
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he activated the mana trap embedded in the assistant's vicinity, channeling his gravity manipulation through it. "Kneel down."
For a brief moment, the assistant's expression betrayed surprise, his balance wavering as the trap momentarily caught him off guard. Yet, with an almost inhuman ease, he steadied himself, brushing off the effect. His lips twisted into a sinister grin. "You think a little trick like this is enough to stop me?" he sneered, his tone dripping with mockery.
Poll's breath hitched. That should've worked. High-level gravity magic. How did he resist it so easily?
Before Poll could dwell on the thought, a faint vibration ran through his gloves—a signal indicating that the MNA (Mana Nexus Analysis) had completed its task. Streams of data materialized on the projection hovering above his palm, illuminating his focused eyes.
Eryndor, standing a few paces behind, furrowed his brow, his protective instincts igniting at Poll's sudden distraction. "Poll, what's going on? What are you looking at?"
Poll didn't answer immediately, his eyes scanning the intricate projections. His voice, barely above a whisper, was laced with disbelief. "What the heck... This is insane."
Eryndor stepped closer, his concern deepening. "Poll, talk to me. What's wrong?"
Poll exhaled sharply, grounding himself. "I've been using my MNA to analyze their mana signatures," he began, his tone measured but urgent. "At first, I thought my Mana Zone could only track mana flow—their quantity and movement. But it's more than that. It goes deeper. This tech doesn't just track mana—it pinpoints its source."
He turned the glowing projection toward Eryndor, pointing at the streams of intricate data cascading across the interface. "Look. Tiara and her assistant aren't just powerful—they're anomalies. Their mana density is off the charts. It's so compressed, it warps the environment around them. That's how Tiara corrupts others—she doesn't just manipulate mana. She absorbs it. Reshapes it. Bends it entirely to her will."
The assistant's unsettling grin faltered ever so slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Poll. Those gloves… he thought. How did this brat glean so much just from that?
Eryndor blinked, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of Poll's revelation. "Wait… compressed mana? Environmental warping? What are you even talking about?"
Poll turned to him, his expression resolute. "O My dear father Think of mana as water. For most people, it flows like a stream—steady, fluid, abundant. Tiara and her assistant? Their mana isn't like that. It's a single drop of pure, concentrated essence—small, but impossibly heavy. It's compressed under immense pressure. If that 'drop' breaks free, it won't just flow—it'll detonate. I underestimated them because their presence felt smaller than it should. That was my mistake."
Nearby, Celestia stood silently, her gaze locked on Poll. She had seen his brilliance before, but this? This was different. Her thoughts raced as she pieced it together. Now I see why the king holds him in such high regard. This boy—is no ordinary kid.
[ This MNA is ridiculously advanced for this world, Poll mused to himself, his thoughts racing. It's like DNA, but for mana. DNA holds information about the physical body, while MNA reveals the spiritual body—mana frequencies, size, density, and more. That's how I tracked Celestia. That's how I uncovered Tiara's secret. Even the Demon Lord couldn't hide from this.]
For a moment, Poll hesitated, the memory of his mother's gentle warning echoing in his mind. you have to promise me you won't use that kind of magic again until you're older and fully understand what you're doing.
Poll inhaled deeply, steadying himself. "I'm sorry, Mom," he murmured under his breath, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "I promised to hold back, but I can't afford to do that anymore." His mana aura flared suddenly, the energy around him intensifying. The air distorted and crackled, growing heavy as his power surged.
Eryndor took a step back, shielding his eyes from the brightness. "Poll, wait—!"
But Poll's expression was calm, his voice steady and resolute. "I'm going to use my full power."
Eryndor could only stare, his voice barely audible as he muttered under his breath. "I always knew my son was special. But this…" His gaze lingered on Poll, his mana aura shimmering with unprecedented strength. "This is beyond genius. He's fighting like a seasoned warrior, analyzing mana like it's child's play. How did he become like this?"
Before Eryndor could voice his thoughts further, a sudden commotion erupted from the house.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke through the tension. Seraphina Nightvale, Poll's mother, emerged, her commanding presence softened only by the concern etched across her face. Elowen followed close behind, her expression a mixture of shock and worry.
"Poll!" Seraphina's voice cut sharply through the charged atmosphere. "What are you doing?!"