IMTDIK 33

Chapter 33

The Fate of Mana

Valdrova’s daily routine was remarkably simple: The enemy appears. She tears them apart. She roars. And then she goes home. Her actions were less like those of a “King of War” and more like a barbarian warrior. She had always dedicated herself to protecting others, and she didn’t feel any discomfort about doing so. But recently, there was one thing she hesitated to do.

—Graaaah! Her roar. A roar that was perfect for heightening her battle excitement and declaring victory had, for some reason, started to make her feel embarrassed.

—Ahh… Her voice came out weak, almost like a tiny squeak. Valdrova tried to suppress her frustration and steady her voice, but the feeling of incompleteness lingered. Her gaze drifted toward the source of her discomfort— The lonely peak of a distant mountain. Every time Valdrova went to battle, Ferda could always be found watching from the summit of that lonely mountain.

‘Did he… not come again today?’

But this time, the summit was empty. Only the flattened spot where he would usually stand was visible. Once again, Ferda hadn’t come to watch her. In truth, Valdrova found Ferda’s gaze burdensome. When he was watching, she would feel restless and impatient, worrying about how she might look to him. Sometimes she even thought it would be better if he didn’t watch her at all.

‘Maybe it’s better this way.’

With that thought, Valdrova spread her wings and flew back to her lair. Her home was in the Far East, on the Lonely Mountain. She had chosen that spot because it was difficult for humans to find. As she entered the long cave, Ruri greeted her warmly.

“You’ve worked hard, Master.”

Valdrova ignored the greeting and walked past her. Seeing this, Ruri followed her into the inner chambers.

“Is something wrong, Master?”

—It’s nothing. Valdrova coiled herself up, signaling that there was no need to worry.

“Please, don’t keep it to yourself. Let me help you.”

—Hmm…. Valdrova hesitated for a moment before speaking.

—Is Ferda… tired of me?

“…What?” Ruri looked at her in disbelief.

—He didn’t come again today.

Valdrova tried to convince herself it was for the best. But no matter how much she thought that way, the hollow feeling in her chest only grew larger. It was just another ordinary day. But something big felt missing.

“It’s only been twice. Just one week. Compared to the long years you’ve lived, it’s nothing.”

—You’re right. I know that.

Only twice. Just one week. Why did those words feel so heavy?

“Ferda has been incredibly busy lately,” Ruri explained. Recently, Ferda had been occupied with many responsibilities. He worked with merchants, dealt with issues raised by local lords, and often spent hours in his office, not leaving until the moon was high in the sky.

—But even so… hasn’t he always come out before?

Valdrova’s words were true. No matter how busy he was, if he heard that Valdrova was going into battle, Ferda would come out to watch. And every time they locked eyes, he would always smile at her.

—Surely… He’s grown tired of me because I ignored him.

She lowered her head and let out a heavy sigh. Ruri, however, didn’t believe that was the case.

‘If he had lost interest, he wouldn’t be working so hard.’

Ferda’s busy schedule was all for the sake of protecting those under Valdrova’s care. His dedication was undoubtedly fueled by his feelings for Valdrova.

“Master.”

—What is it?

After hesitating, Valdrova spoke again with difficulty.

—That thing… that human women do.

“Do you mean… a tea party?”

—Yes, that’s it.

Ruri was taken aback by her words. Since the incident with the prince, Valdrova has avoided interacting with humans.

—Could you invite Ferda… to a tea party on my behalf?

This was a big step for Valdrova—choosing to meet her fiancé face-to-face.

Meanwhile, Ferda had become a 3-circle mage. In magic, the circles were structured as follows:

1st Circle: A single dot.

2nd Circle: Connecting dots with lines.

3rd Circle: Weaving those lines into surfaces.

Reaching the 3rd Circle meant being able to construct magic circles and use full-fledged magic.

‘The Magic Library is gone too.’

The Magic Library was a memory technique—dedicating part of the mind entirely to magic and formulas. It could only be built upon reaching the 5th Circle, but since Ferda had returned to the past, his library had naturally vanished.

‘Still, the magic remains within me.’

Magic stored in the subconscious lingered within him. It was like rummaging through a collapsed library, searching randomly for spells. Ferda focused his mana into his right hand. Thanks to the overlapping 3 circles, the flow of mana was fast and smooth.

‘Let’s draw a magic circle.’

This was the beginning of a mage’s true development. At this stage, mages practiced constructing magic circles, bridging the gap between being a novice and a master.

‘Step one: Materialization.’

Ferda visualized a familiar magic circle from his memory. Typically, mages used books to guide them during this process. The more experienced they became, the faster the process. However, Ferda approached it differently. Relying on his subconscious, he began drawing a magic circle without a clear goal. Like casting a fishing line into a lake, he waited and waited, hoping to catch something big.

‘I feel it.’

Once he sensed something, he moved to the next step.

‘Step two: Structuring.’

Ferda imagined a pen moving across his hand, sketching out the magic circle. As he followed the imagined movements, a simple magic circle formed on his hand.

‘Step three: Realization.’

With the framework complete, he infused mana into the circle. As the magic circle absorbed mana, it began to glow, changing color. The faint blue glow grew brighter until the circle radiated a vivid light.

‘This magic is….’

Before Ferda could fully comprehend it, his body reacted instinctively. He extended his index and middle fingers, pointing toward a wall. Then came the final step: the incantation.

“Elemental Bolt.”

The moment Ferda spoke, a sharp crackling sound filled the air.

Zap!

A bolt of lightning shot forward in a straight line. It was Elemental Bolt, one of the most basic offensive spells alongside Mana Shot.

‘That was close.’

If he hadn’t aimed carefully, the scorched mark on the wall could have been on his body instead.

‘Drawing from the subconscious isn’t the safest method.’

Despite the risks, Ferda didn’t stop. The more familiar a spell was, the more likely it had been frequently used in the past. Clearing his mind, he delved deeper, searching for another spell.

‘I feel it again.’

Trusting his instincts, Ferda drew another magic circle. After materialization, structuring, and realization, the circle’s glow changed. What had started as a soft blue now turned pitch black. The attribute was darkness—a pure black magic spell.

Before Ferda could identify the spell, his body moved again. This time, he extended his hand toward a candle. The name of the spell finally came to him.

“Shadow Hand.”

The shadow from the candle started to ripple and churn like boiling liquid. Ferda’s shadow expanded, detaching from him as though it had shed its skin. It became a separate hand, crafted entirely from magic.

‘I can feel the drawbacks clearly.’

Shadow Hand was different from the standard Magic Hand spell of the 3rd Circle. Magic Hand copied the user’s hand like a glove, but Shadow Hand created a completely new hand.

‘There’s no price, but the conditions are strict.’

Black magic, known for its high performance, demanded two things:

1. The user’s mind would be tainted with repeated use—a “price.”
2. The spell required intense mental focus—a “condition.”

The strange sensation of having a new hand was the condition for using Shadow Hand. If a mage failed to accept this feeling as natural, they would suffer phantom pain. But for Ferda, this wasn’t an issue. He had already mastered Shadow Hand’s condition long ago.

‘Even so, it still doesn’t feel completely like my own hand.’

Ferda examined the black hand, testing its movements with precise, flexible gestures. It moved as naturally as his real hand. He looked toward a shelf across the room—a distance that would normally take ten steps to reach. Ferda stretched out the shadow hand.

“A hand can extend,” he thought, breaking conventional limits.

The shadow hand stretched far beyond its normal reach, grabbing a book from the shelf and bringing it back.

‘A 3rd Circle spell, but one too advanced for most 3rd Circle mages.’

The flexibility of Shadow Hand required immense imagination and concentration, embodying the essence of black magic. It was powerful, but only those who met its high demands could wield it without going mad.

‘Once I reach the 4th Circle, it should become more stable.’

Ferda thought to himself, muttering under his breath.

“The next step…”

His mind was restless. He needed the drive to improve, but right now, he lacked his usual motivation.

‘What I need to fully stabilize her… is the mana of the 4th Circle.’

The amount of mana required to fully suppress Valdrova’s fiery nature was immense. Ferda wanted to achieve that power no matter what. But something was holding him back. Reaching the 3rd Circle without much struggle was part of it, but the bigger issue was his recent focus on discovering his natural affinity.

‘Mana determinism…’

Ferda had learned many things from his greedy teacher, and among them was the concept of “magic determinism.” This theory resonated more with Red Circle mages than Blue Circle ones. It suggested that, no matter the time or circumstances in which one awakened, their innate magical attributes would remain the same—a concept derived from fate.

‘A pointless debate.’

It was as meaningless as proving the existence of utopia. It wasn’t called the “spell to ruin relationships” for nothing. But for Ferda, who had turned back time, it wasn’t something he could dismiss so easily.

‘The hatred I once had for my family and my resentment toward the world are gone.’

Now, having vowed to live only for her, he thought his attributes might be different this time. However, he was still given darkness and electricity, which were exactly the same qualities he had previously possessed.

‘How did I feel when I first learned my attributes?’

At the time, he was overjoyed. There are two attributes that Blue Circle mages cannot handle well: light and darkness. Light manifests through the pure and righteous hearts of priests. Darkness, on the other hand, is born from negative emotions, as in Ferda’s case. Having an affinity for darkness meant that he couldn’t use light-based magic or healing spells. But the advantage was that his other elemental magic wasn’t significantly weakened compared to other Red Circle mages. Because of this, Ferda could wield all elements except light, rivaling elemental masters.

‘But now…’

He didn’t feel the same. The current situation, intertwined with Valdrova, made things different. What had once been a blessing to Ferda now felt like a curse.

‘Valdrova suffers from the nature of darkness, and I, too, possess the darkness attribute.’

It was already proven that his mana could influence her. But what if, instead of calming her, his mana was like watering another seed of darkness within her? What if his actions, meant to help her, ultimately led to her destruction?

‘If the mana that once hurt her is now hurting her again…’

If mana doesn’t change, and fate remains unaltered…

‘Can someone like me really stay by her side?’

Even Ferda, once a grand mage who commanded the heavens and the earth, found himself in uncharted territory. In the past, Ferda would always challenge the unknown. But now, it only left him mired in deep contemplation. A mage’s curiosity is closely tied to magic itself. Ferda’s inner turmoil drew forth yet another spell from his subconscious. Following his instincts, he began to structure the spell once more. Only after the magic circle was formed did Ferda realize something.

‘What is this spell?’

It wasn’t just a spell he had forgotten. It was something he had never seen before. The complex formulas and runic inscriptions covering the circle were overwhelming. In terms of intricacy, it was comparable to 6th Circle magic. But if it were truly 6th Circle magic, it would have collapsed during structuring. It wouldn’t have taken shape so easily. More importantly, he would have remembered it. This was undoubtedly a spell drawn from his subconscious. He had recalled Shadow Hand and Elemental Bolt in a similar manner, recognizing their names after a slight delay. But this spell, even as it floated on his palm, didn’t reveal its name.

‘It’s as if it never had a name to begin with.’

Ferda couldn’t figure it out. Using the active Shadow Hand spell, he retrieved some blank magic-copying parchment from a cabinet. He carefully pressed the parchment over the magic circle, copying its patterns and runes. Examining the circle, Ferda tried to analyze it, but it was beyond his understanding.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s Ruri.”

Ferda quickly rolled up the copied parchment and set it aside.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and the young maid entered with her usual expressionless face.

“You look troubled.”

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

He brushed off the topic of the magic circle, thinking it wasn’t something Ruri needed to know.

“What do you think about a tea party?”

As they ate lunch, Ruri suddenly asked the question.

“A tea party? With whom?”

“Who else but my master?”

Ruri’s tone was sharper than usual.

“The master has personally requested it, so I’m asking if you’d like to have one this afternoon.”

“A tea party… with my fiancée?”

Ferda’s mind immediately conjured an image. Valdrova, elegantly sipping tea in a dress, sitting in a refined atmosphere. The thought of such a graceful scene made him want to attend. Normally, Ferda would have said, “Let’s do it right away.” But this time, he hesitated.

“It’s a nice idea, but I don’t think the timing is right.”

“…What?” Ruri blinked, stunned by his response.

Ferda repeated himself.

“There’s no need to rush. Let’s hold off for now. I need some time to think.”

“…” Ruri stared at him for a moment before speaking again.

“Are you trying to play hard to get with the master?”

“Play hard to get?”

“Yes, like couples fighting for control, trying to make the other more desperate.”

“It’s not that.”

Ferda wasn’t someone who could think on such a complicated level when it came to relationships.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing serious.”

“If it’s nothing serious, why does someone who’s always wanted to see the master suddenly hold back? Are you dying or something?”

“It’s not that either. Don’t worry about it.”

Ruri wasn’t satisfied with his answer and pressed further.

“Are you avoiding her because you’ve grown tired of her?”

Ferda’s heart sink at her words.

“What nonsense is that?”

“The master said so herself. She thinks you’ve grown tired of her since you haven’t come to watch her fight lately.”

“Tired? How could I—”

Ferda immediately dismissed the idea. He still wanted to see her, more than anything. He just couldn’t bring himself to watch like he used to.

“If that’s not the case, then give her a proper answer.”

Ruri’s loyal eyes glimmered with determination.

Ferda finally spoke.

“…I’ve just been troubled lately.”

“Even a blind person could tell. What’s been troubling you?”

“My mana is infused with darkness. I was worried it might harm her.”

“Is that all?”

Ruri removed her gloves and extended her hand.

“Then test it on me.”

“On you?”

Ruri nodded.

“I’m a descendant of dragons. My blood is insignificant compared to the master’s, but it should be enough to judge whether your mana is harmful. Try it.”

Without further hesitation, Ferda took her hand and infused it with his mana. Her small hand wasn’t soft—it was firm, evidence of her strength.

“How does it feel?”

Ruri concentrated, then tilted her head slightly.

“…I don’t feel anything unusual. It’s just mana flowing into me.”

“Nothing harmful?”

“Not at all.”

Ferda increased the mana flow to five times the original amount—enough to interact with her mana circuits. Ruri’s expression shifted slightly.

“What about now?”

“I can sense it more clearly now, but it’s not harmful. It’s just mana.”

Ruri furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at Ferda with a hint of exasperation.

“Did you really hesitate over something this trivial?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re terrified when it comes to the master, but you had no problem breaking people’s fingers or turning them into beasts.”

Despite her immense strength as the Red Dragon, Valdrova was like a delicate flower in Ferda’s eyes. The thought of harming her was unbearable for him.

“As her future husband, you shouldn’t add to her worries with such pointless doubts, should you?”

“You’re right.”

Ferda nodded, and Ruri let out a deep sigh.

“Then what will you do now?”

There was only one answer.

“I’ll accept her invitation. I can’t ignore a request she made herself.”

Facing the issue head-on was the only way.

“Understood.”

With a bow, Ruri left the dining room.

After she left, Ferda glanced at the rolled parchment he had set aside.

‘Figuring it out now will only give me more headaches.’

He could consult Mori to identify the spell or ask Echidna, who was fluent in runes, for a translation. But something told him