Kai stayed with the Lombards for another day, sharing everything he knew about the different types of Enforcers and more into the lost art of the Berserkers.

By the time he was born, Berserkers had already become legends of the past, their peak etched into history during the second golden era of magic. Back then, they had built an empire fueled by fury and unmatched might. Although much of their knowledge had faded into obscurity, Kai still recalled fragments of their skills and fighting styles from a book he had read on them—techniques that turned unbridled rage into a weapon of mass devastation.

His plan for the Lombards was clear; transform them into a small, furious battle regiment. It was a vision that seemed to resonate deeply with the tribe. Both Yafgar and Ragnar, in particular, were electrified by the idea.

Ragnar, being extremely burdened by anger since the loss of his friend, appeared especially eager to channel his fury into something… less self-destructive. But again, grief was different from person to person. Kai was one of the people who’d direct grief into something purposeful, and only wished Ragnar would see the whole Berserker theory from his point of view.

During one of their discussions, Yafgar pressed Kai about the source of his knowledge. Was there truly a surviving tribe of Berserkers, hidden away somewhere? How had he come to get the knowledge of their martial arts? Kai had no answers for such questions and had simply dismissed it as nothing more than folk tales that he’d heard in his youth.

Making excuses for his extensive knowledge had now become second nature, and thankfully, both Yafgar and Ragnar seemed far more invested in the practical application of fury than knowing where the knowledge came from.

And when he finally departed, he carried hope in his heart, leaving behind a tribe ready to rise like a storm.

His journey back to Veralt was brief, but once he arrived, he quickly realized that he had little time to settle. Another venture called to him—not as a lord but as a Mage seeking to unravel new mysteries of magic. He barely paused before setting out again, this time accompanied by Amyra. Their destination was the gorge where he had faced Shakran, west of Castle Dorn.

Passing the castle, they noted the ongoing repairs that the place was going through.

He felt no obligation to oversee the reconstruction—he had returned Castle Dorn to Viscount Buck already. Still, he had sent a contingent of men to assist with the repairs. Buck, one of the more reasonable nobles, seemed like a good noble to be acquainted with, and creating a solid relationship with him seemed a prudent move.

After all, alliances often started with small gestures of goodwill.

They guided their horse along the slightly rocky path, the uneven terrain making the ride just bumpy enough to force them into light conversation. They spoke briefly about the terrain and the monsters that roamed these parts, their voices blending with the steady clopping of hooves.

It was Amyra who finally changed the topic to their purpose here, her curiosity bubbling over. She leaned slightly forward from her seat behind Kai, her arms loosely gripping his waist. “So… what exactly are we here to do?”

Kai glanced back at her over his shoulder, raising a brow. “What do you think we’re here for?”

She tilted her head, chewing on the question for a moment. “To train?” she guessed first, her lips quivering in thought. “Or maybe… sightsee for a change?”

“If it was the first, I’d have brought Rhea along,” he said. “And sadly, I don’t think I have the luxury to take a sightseeing trip right now. No, we’re here for something else. You’ll see when we get there—it’s close by.”

Amyra nodded as she knew that it was all the explanation she’d get for now, and kept her mouth shut as Kai urged the horse to pick up speed. The wind tousled his hair as they rode faster, and soon the horizon opened up before them.

The first thing Amyra noticed as they approached was the land.

All around the wide field ahead, the ground had turned barren and lifeless, riddled with blackened patches that looked as if something had drained the very essence from beneath the soil. As they drew closer, a rancid, gut-wrenching smell hit them like a wall, making Amyra gag from behind.

“The smell of dead mana,” she muttered, scrunching up her nose in disgust. “They smell worse than the spiders.”

“Yeah,” Kai said. “With the spiders, their natural odor masked some of the dead mana’s scent. But here, there’s nothing to cover it.”

They slowed to a halt at the edge of the corrupted land, dismounting carefully. Amyra stepped forward, taking in the devastation up close. He looked at how she scanned the ground, noting how lifeless and eerie it looked, as though nothing had thrived here in years. “How did it end up like this?” she asked.

She was rubbing her hands constantly, as if trying to wipe off any trace of the disturbing scene from her body.

Kai rested a hand on his horse’s neck, staring out at the desolate landscape. “During my battle with Shakran—the blood drinker Lord, remember? I told you about it over breakfast a couple of weeks ago—we fought right here,” he explained. “He used dead mana to power himself up, channeling it through some kind of parasite.”

He hesitated for a moment since recalling the details was unpleasant. “I won’t go into the full story, but the aftermath… The dead mana that spilled into the land left it like this. Fortunately, I warned the nearby villagers to stay far away from this place. If they hadn’t, we’d have had to deal with a whole mess of mana weavers by now. Even most beasts avoid it. For now, the dead mana is contained to the land.”

Amyra nodded. “It’s worse than I imagined.”

“We’re going to begin a few experiments here. Ones I’ve been meaning to do for a while to better gauge your powers. Are you comfortable with that?”

Amyra blinked at him, then turned to look at the barren, corrupted ground ahead. “Yes.”

Together, they began walking toward the desolate patch of land. “The reason I chose this place is that, even though it’s tainted, the concentration of dead mana here is still low. It hasn’t reached the point where I wouldn’t be able to heal you if something went wrong. But if your innate powers work the way we think it do… it shouldn’t.”

Amyra gave him another small nod. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let’s start with something simple. A basic interaction with the dead mana.”

She understood immediately. Without another word, she stepped closer to the edge of one of the blackened spots on the ground, her focus sharpening. Taking a deep breath, she crouched slightly and extended her hands toward the tainted earth.

Kai tensed, ready to act if anything went wrong. His mana surged within him, prepared to pull her away and purify her if needed. He watched closely as her fingers hovered just above the blackened soil before lightly brushing against it.

At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Kai noticed subtle changes. The dead mana—dark, twisting strands invisible to most eyes—began to react to her presence. It seeped upward, like oily smoke, and latched onto her fingers.

Dark spots started to bloom across her hands, spreading slowly up her arms as the corrupted energy traveled through her veins. Kai’s jaw tightened. He could feel the dead mana creeping through her body, invading her system.

Amyra though, on the other hand, stayed still, her breathing steady despite the visible corruption. She kept her hand on the tainted ground for a full minute, even as the dark veins spread further up her arms. Kai’s instincts screamed at him to intervene, and he was just about to pull her away when something unexpected happened.

The dark spots… began to fade.

At first, he couldn’t notice it. But then, the corruption started retreating, shrinking back as if it was being pulled inward and dissolved. Amyra stepped back from the dead mana zone, brushing her hands off as though nothing had happened.

Kai was already at her side, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. He inspected her fingers carefully, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Amyra nodded. Kai noticed the subtle changes in her, her golden pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed. But there were no signs of tiredness. Almost as if she hadn’t absorbed dead mana seconds ago.

“I told you—I’m resistant to it.”

“Let me see.”

Kai didn’t believe her right away. Instead, he closed his eyes and sent a pulse of his own mana through her hand, letting it flow through her veins as he searched for any lingering traces of the dead mana. He expected to find at least some residue, something to indicate that it had been there.

But there was nothing.

Not even a hint of corruption remained in her system. It was as if the dead mana had simply… vanished.

Kai frowned, delving deeper with his mana, searching for any clue about what had happened. But the more he searched, the clearer it became—there was no trace of dead mana left in her body. It hadn’t just been suppressed or expelled. It was gone. Completely.

That shouldn’t be possible.

He opened his eyes and studied her. Either the dead mana had been broken down and purified by her own mana—a feat that was already incredible—or it had gone somewhere he couldn’t detect.

Both possibilities left him with more questions than answers.

“You… shouldn’t be able to do that,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Amyra raised a brow. “But I did.”

Kai shook his head slightly. “Yeah. You did. Can you do it again?”

She blinked at him. “Again?”

“This time, I’m going to add a stream of my own mana to yours. I want to see where the dead mana is going.”

“Umm… Okay.”

Once more, she stepped toward the edge of the corrupted patch of ground, crouching slightly and extending her hand. Kai moved closer, gently taking her other hand in his and focusing as he slowly began pushing a stream of his mana into her.

He closed his eyes, letting his senses expand as he observed what happened inside her body. At first, everything seemed normal—until the dead mana began moving again.

He saw it clearly this time. Like dark, parasitic strands, the dead mana snaked through her veins, attempting to spread throughout her body. It moved like a living thing, insidious and relentless, trying to corrupt her mana and taint her body from the inside out.

His grip on her hand tightened slightly, but he didn’t pull back. He kept watching, following the path of the dead mana as it slithered closer to her Mana heart. And that’s when it happened.

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The dead mana disappeared.

It wasn’t expelled or neutralized—it simply vanished the moment it neared her Mana heart. His eyes widened, but before he could even process what he’d seen, he felt it—a sudden burst of mana surging from her core.

The burst wasn’t chaotic or uncontrolled. It was strong, steady, and purposeful. It flowed through Amyra’s body, reinforcing her strength and slowly purging the remaining traces of dead mana. The dark spots on her skin faded once more, and within moments, there was no sign that she had ever been corrupted.

Kai exhaled slowly.

What just happened?

The entire process had confirmed several of his theories. Her resistance wasn’t just a passive ability—it was tied to something far deeper. The way her Mana heart had absorbed and purified the dead mana wasn’t natural. Since he couldn’t see which part of it had done the purification, he was sure that it was connected to her astral realm. There was no other explanation.

And yet, despite his understanding, there were still so many unanswered questions.

Kai looked at Amyra, who was examining her hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She glanced at him and nodded. “I’m fine. It felt… easier this time.”

Kai studied her for a moment before deciding to push things further. “Amyra, can you try something else for me?”

“What is it?”

“Can you absorb the dead mana from the ground? Not just let it corrupt you, but try to pull it out all from the ground.”

“Absorb it? I’ve never tried that before.”

“Just give it a shot,” Kai said, nodding toward a small patch of dead mana to their left. “Try sending out strands of your own mana and see if you can absorb the dead mana inside that patch.”

Amyra hesitated again, biting her lip as she considered his request.

“Alright,” she said softly.

He watched as she extended her hand again, releasing multiple strands of mana that shimmered faintly before lodging themselves deep into the corrupted ground. For a moment, she seemed hesitant, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as she tried to pull the dead mana upward.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, there it was—her mana strands began to darken within seconds, like ink spreading through water. The dead mana clung to them, climbing up her arm in slow, sinister tendrils.

He tensed, ready to intervene the moment it seemed like she was losing control. But as he watched, something remarkable happened.

The dark spots on Amyra’s skin began fading just as quickly as they had appeared, vanishing as if they had been burned away from the inside. He could feel it—the dead mana wasn’t dissipating. It was being purified. Again.

But she didn’t stop there.

Amyra sent out more strands of mana, drawing in more dead mana from the ground in steady pulses. Each time, the process repeated—the corruption climbed up her body, only to be purified and expelled near her mana heart.

Kai’s gaze flickered back to the ground, and that’s when he noticed something strange.

The blackened, corrupted soil beneath her hand was starting to change. The dark patches were shrinking, and the earth beneath them was left cracked and dry, like parched desert ground. It looked barren, almost lifeless. When Kai focused his mana senses, he confirmed what he suspected—there was no dead mana left in that patch of land.

But there was something else, too.

There wasn’t much mana left in the soil, either. It was almost depleted, as though the dead mana had taken all the energy with it when it was sucked away.

He’d never seen anything like this before. In his time, no land had ever been cured of dead mana—not fully, not like this. No one even knew what happened to land after it was purged. Would it eventually recover? Or will it stay barren forever?

The possibilities swirled in his head, each more incredible than the last. Experiments. Research. If Amyra could do this on a larger scale…

He turned back toward her just as she dropped her hand, breathing heavily. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her chest rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. It was clear that purifying so much dead mana at once had taken a toll on her. It must’ve taken a lot from her to purify it.

“There’s a limit,” Kai murmured to himself, noting the signs of fatigue. “You can’t purify endlessly.”

Still, he had to admit—it was more than he ever could have imagined.

“Should we stop here for today?” he asked, stepping closer.

Amyra looked up at him, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She was tired, but there was a fire in her eyes.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I can still go on. I just need a few minutes.”

Kai considered her for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Because I have a few more things I want to check. And if I’m right… we’re going to be seeing miraculous things in the future.”

“What kind of miraculous things?”

Kai smiled faintly, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “You’ll see,” he said. “Because you’re going to be at the center of it all. But for now… we have more experiments to run.”

***

A man raced down the forested road at breakneck speed, his crimson hair whipping wildly in the wind, strands flying across his face as though urging him to stop—but he didn’t. His eyes remained fixed ahead, unwavering, his jaw clenched.

Behind him, a retinue of armored Knights followed, struggling to keep pace with his galloping steed. Hooves pounded against the dirt, kicking up clouds of dust, as trees blurred past them in a dizzying rush. The air was thick with urgency, every second a race against something unseen but undeniably perilous.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man caught sight of his destination—a towering fortress carved into the side of a hill. It loomed over the landscape like a silent guardian, its stone walls weathered by time and battle. More than just a stronghold, it marked the boundary of the Sylvan Enclave, far away from the center.

As he drew closer, soldiers on the wall caught sight of him, their eyes widening in recognition. By the time he reached the fortress gates, a group of men was already there to meet him.

“Viscount Redmont.”

They bowed as he dismounted, but he barely acknowledged them

“Take me to the walls,” he ordered.

“Yes, my lord!” they responded in unison, straightening at once. Without hesitation, they led him toward the winding stairway that climbed the fortress wall.

He followed them swiftly, nearly running. His Knights were still catching up, their armor clanking as they ascended behind him, but he didn’t slow down. He had to see it for himself.

At the top of the wall, a small group of officers and soldiers awaited him, everyone so stiff. He knew why. Among them was a tall, broad-shouldered Knight clad in dark plate armor—the man entrusted with overseeing the fortress’s defenses, Knight Cais.

“What’s the situation?” Redmont demanded.

Cais exchanged a troubled glance with the others before answering. “You should see for yourself, my lord.”

Wordlessly, Cais gestured for him to follow, leading him toward the center of the wall. From there, they had an unobstructed view of the other side of the hill—and what lay beyond it.

When Viscount Redmont reached the edge and looked out, his breath caught in his throat.

Goddess Lumaris help me!

An unnatural darkness stretched before him, swallowing the land. Trees, grass, stones—everything was cloaked in black, as though the earth itself had been infected by some vile curse. He couldn’t see anything beyond the tallest tree branches. It was a sea of darkness, endless and consuming.

For several long moments, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. His heart pounded in his chest, cold fear creeping through his veins. And fuck, he could feel the goosebumps all over his body.

“When… when did this start?” he asked at last, his voice quieter now, almost hoarse.

“Two weeks ago, my lord,” Cais replied. “It was small at first—just a patch near the edge of the forest. But it’s been spreading ever since. It’s already reached the lower slopes of the hill. If it keeps advancing at this rate, it will overrun the fortress… and breach the border.”

Redmont’s hands curled into fists, his knuckles turning white. Fear flickered in his eyes, but he forced himself to remain composed. He couldn’t afford to panic—not now. Though his body, his entire body wanted him to run away from this… disaster.

“We need to send word to the King,” he said. “And to every noble in the surrounding region. Anyone who can lend us aid. If we don’t stop this… the Lancephil Kingdom will face its worst ordeal since its founding.”

Cais nodded. “I’ll see to it at once, my lord.”

But Redmont wasn’t listening anymore. His gaze had drifted back to the spreading darkness, his mind racing with possibilities—and none of them good.

The plague could consume everything on its way. And that… that was scary. He wiped the sweat from his face, though his eyes—he couldn’t tear away from the stygian he was staring.

***

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