A mana core circulates mana throughout the body. A mage can control its flow and output, channelling it into specific spells or enhancing their physical abilities. Each individual has a unique capacity for holding mana; it is not infinite. When a mage casts spells, they expend mana from their core. Fortunately, since mana is abundant in the world's environment, it replenishes naturally over time. However, if someone depletes their mana too quickly, they risk experiencing mana deficiency. This condition is similar to blood loss from an accident—while the body can regenerate it, the process takes time. If too much mana is lost, the mage's condition can worsen, even leading to unconsciousness.
Reibar was feeling the effects now. He had expended too much mana—first during the fight with the bandits and then in summoning the fire tornado. Exhausted and panting, he struggled to catch his breath.
Hamira, on the other hand, was in far better shape. She hadn't exerted herself much, and wielding a spear was only her secondary skill—her primary talent lay in modifying the dead through her mastery over zombies. Unlike humans, demons possessed significantly greater mana capacity and naturally brighter mana cores. Their physical strength was also far superior to most other races.
Earlier, she had relied purely on her physical strength. If not for the accursed slavery seal binding her, she could have rid herself of Reibar anytime she wished.
Every creature leaves behind a unique mana signature as they move. It's a natural process, much like sweating under a hot sun. Just as every individual has a distinct scent that a dog can track, mana signatures are unique to each person. The more mana someone expends—especially like casting powerful spells—the stronger the signature they leave behind.
Hamira knew she couldn't break the slavery seal on her own. It bound her not only in action but also in truth—she couldn't lie when Reibar asked her something directly. However, that didn't mean she was obligated to tell him everything that crossed her mind. Not unless he explicitly asked.
She had already informed him that demons had appointed numerous humans as their underlings throughout the empire. It was a truth even a demon of her calibre couldn't deny: distinguishing an ordinary human from one working for demons was nearly impossible.
During her time in Marrowfield, Hamira had devised a plan to free herself from Reibar. Since leaving the city, she had been intentionally leaving behind a strong mana signature. With luck, a demon ally might catch its trace and follow her trail…
Though it was only a faint hope, she had no idea that someone was already approaching—and not just anyone, but her beloved brother, Draven Beelzee.
An hour had passed since they began trudging through the dry basins after departing from the caravan. Reibar, still grumbling under his breath, cursed the bandits. If not for them, he'd still be lounging in the wagon, enjoying a comfortable ride.
"Man, I have to walk so much again. Wouldn't it be great if Hamira could just turn into a horse so I could ride her all the way to the capital? What kind of demon is she, anyway?" Reiabr thought.
It was then it happens something approached them with tremendous speed and stopped a few meters ahead of them followed by a sonic boom mid-air. No .....It was not something rather it was 'someone' and a shirtless one at that too!
A shirtless man with long black hair flowing in the wind descending down, clad in tight black pants. Despite his striking presence, he didn't appear hostile. Before Reibar could utter a word, the man spoke.
"My, my... so here you are. What are you up to, Hamira? It's rare to see you keeping company with a living human. And for quite some time, no less.
Hamira was determined not to let this chance slip away. Before Reibar could fully assess the situation, she spoke.
"Yeah, brother, I was captured and enslaved by this human..." Tears welled up in her eyes.
Reibar's mind was still processing when the realization hit.
"How dare you, human!" he shouted, his body enveloped in a dark aura.
Draven truly loved his sister. He typically wouldn't interfere with her affairs, but seeing her sell the armour he'd gifted her? Something didn't add up. He quickly followed her trail, and what he witnessed now made his blood boil.
Tears in Hamira's eyes? This was the first time he'd ever seen them. He knew then that Reibar must have been torturing her, pushing her to her breaking point.
His rage exploded as he raised his hand, a dark sphere forming in front of his palm. "Die."
Phwoosh!
It was too fast! Reibar barely managed to dodge it, focusing all his energy on his legs and using wind magic to propel himself just in time.
Boom! The sphere collided with a boulder behind him, leaving a massive hole in its wake.
Reibar gazed at Hamira, putting her into that agony she feared the most. Pushing it to its limit this time! Hamira couldn't contain herself, letting out a scream of pain. Reibar believed that seeing his sister cry would make him reconsider his decision to stand against him.
"If you kill me now, she'll suffer like this for the rest of her life!---"
But before he could finish his words, Draven was already on him. What incredible speed! In a flash, Draven landed a brutal punch to Reibar's gut. Blood spilled from Reibar's mouth.
"I'll just kill you, and the seal will break!" Another punch landed, followed by another. They rained down like a volley of arrows, each strike covered in an intensified black aura.
Reibar had thought that causing Hamira pain would make Draven hesitate, but it only backfired.
He removed the effects immediately. Turned to Hamira, giving her a sharp order as she lay there, panting.
"Fucking tell him that you'll die too if I die!"
"Stop, brother!" Hamira cried out, her voice strained. "The seal was created by a powerful sorcerer, not him! I'll die too if you kill him!"
She didn't want to say it, but she couldn't disobey a direct order. It wasn't in her capacity to do so.
Only then did Draven stop, though Reibar's condition had already become a crumpled mess—an omelette. A crumpled omelette, beaten to a pulp.
Grabbing Reibar by the hair, Draven pulled his head back, his voice seething with fury. "I'll say this only once: Undo this, right now!"
But Reibar knew the truth. There was no way he could break the spell, even if he wanted to. Undoing the work of the headmaster? That wasn't humanly possible. Not even demonically possible.
Reibar couldn't even bring himself to call the Headmaster this time. He knew it would mean certain death. Calling him after a year had passed was one thing, but now? It hadn't even been a few weeks. The Headmaster would surely kill him, berating him with his cold, cutting words: "I don't need such a pathetic child who can't stand on his own!" Reibar could almost hear the chilling tone in his head.
"I can't..." he replied faintly, barely able to move his lips.
The fury of Draven Beelzee, the dark mage, surged to a whole new level upon hearing that. Without warning, he tossed Reibar aside as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll.
"It doesn't matter!" Draven growled. "I'll beat you to a pulp until you feel ten times the pain you've caused her!" He began to approach slowly, each step heavy with menace. "You take me to this sorcerer of yours, and I'll make sure he undoes this—on his life!"