Chapter 61-70 The Drake Hunt Begins (Patreon)

Chapter 61

The Drake Hunt Begins

One month had passed since Karath returned.

The long monsoon season had finally ended, and during that brief yet eventful period, the Bloodclaw Tribe had undergone several changes.

While Karath remained secluded and devoted himself to studying magic, the tribal warriors continued constructing the enormous trap intended for the giant reptile under Krog’s leadership.

Whether through fortune or misfortune, the terrifying monster never appeared near the settlement during the monsoon.

Then, several days after the rains ended, two warriors on a hunting expedition discovered it some distance from the village.

“That must be the creature.”

“It certainly looks like it.”

Now that Karath had returned alive, the warriors no longer needed to seek revenge against the monster.

For that reason, they had not searched the forest for it.

However, its presence this close to the settlement meant it could reach the village at any time.

The warriors had agreed during their earlier meeting that they would not actively hunt the creature, but if it appeared near their territory, they would kill it.

Following the plan they had prepared, one of the two warriors concealed his presence and followed the drake while the other returned to gather the tribespeople scattered between the settlement and the hunting grounds.

Unlike the ogre hunt, Buddy was not present to locate the scout and confirm whether every warrior had reached the trap.

Since Karath began his secluded training, Buddy had refused to leave his side.

The wolf spent every day lying outside Karath’s house.

“You damned lizard!”

Kurdan, the warrior following the drake, counted slowly to three thousand before shouting and hurling a stone at the creature.

“Hiss.”

The moment the monster noticed him, Kurdan turned and ran toward the trap without looking back.

The warriors had established the procedure before preparing for the hunt.

When someone discovered the creature, one warrior would return to gather everyone while the other counted to a predetermined number before luring it toward the trap.

Thanks to Karath’s lessons, the orcs could now count to at least four digits.

By counting slowly, the scout could give the rest of the warriors enough time to assemble.

“GRAH!”

Crash!

The drake charged the moment the stone struck it.

The creature fell for the provocation even more easily because the orc resembled the irritating prey that had taunted it during their previous encounter.

“Raaagh!”

Kurdan sprinted desperately through the forest, feeling as though his heart might tear apart.

How far had Karath managed to run while luring this monster away?

Kurdan felt even greater reverence for Karath as he experienced the same pursuit.

The drake was terrifying.

Trees shattered repeatedly behind him, and every step the monster took sent tremors through the ground and violent waves through Kurdan’s heart.

If the creature caught him here, his death would accomplish nothing.

Driven by the single determination to guide it into the trap, Kurdan ran as though flames were burning beneath his feet.

At the same time, Karath remained inside his house, researching magic.

“Perhaps Karath should return to the laboratory.”

He had already studied every book he brought back during the previous month.

He had not merely read them once.

Karath reread them dozens of times, searching for misunderstandings, overlooked details, and even the smallest clue that might help him.

Although his mana capacity prevented him from freely using Third Circle magic, he now understood spells up to that level almost perfectly.

Unfortunately, the theories contained within Third Circle magic did not offer an easy method of killing the drake.

Karath was considering returning to the laboratory for books containing more advanced magical theories.

“There is still one possibility.”

His efforts had not been completely fruitless.

Karath had devised one method that might kill the creature.

The problem was that the idea remained almost entirely theoretical.

The method used every relevant resource currently available to him and could only be performed once.

Small-scale experiments and practice were possible, but the moment Karath conducted a full test, he would lose the ability to use it again.

He had therefore continued searching for a safer and more reliable solution.

Crash!

“Karath!”

Uncle Goldin suddenly threw open the door and rushed inside.

“The drake has been found!”

“Should Karath go directly to the trap?”

Goldin nodded when Karath referred to the procedure established during the warriors’ meeting.

“Everyone is being gathered now. Go there immediately!”

Karath rose before Goldin finished speaking.

He seized his ogre femur and one object stored inside his leather bag, then ran toward the trap.

When he arrived, the village warriors were gathering one after another.

“Karath!”

Krog noticed him and approached.

“Karath will leave this battle in your hands.”

“You will command this hunt, Krog.”

“What are you talking about? Why should Krog command when Karath is here?”

Krog had naturally assumed Karath would take control.

Karath believed Krog was better suited for the role.

He had spent the past month inside his house studying magic.

Although he remained within the settlement and heard general reports about the trap and weapons, his information was probably less precise than Krog’s.

Krog had led every stage of the preparation.

“Karath has another task.”

He intended to use magic during the battle.

Commanding the warriors while casting spells would be too difficult.

“You are capable of doing this. You prepared the entire hunt. Trust what you created, Krog.”

Krog had initially looked uneasy when Karath refused command.

The encouragement strengthened his resolve, and he nodded firmly.

“It is coming!”

A warrior watching the forest shouted.

Kurdan was sprinting toward them at full speed.

Crash!

Boom!

“GRAAAAAH!”

The enormous monster followed close behind him, advancing with overwhelming force.

Karath cursed inwardly.

Seeing the creature again after roughly five weeks brought back the same suffocating pressure.

He was not the only one affected.

The warriors hiding within the undergrowth around the trap radiated tension.

“Raaaaagh!”

Whether to strengthen his courage or overcome his fear, Kurdan released a furious roar and ran across the concealed trap.

The drake stepped onto it immediately afterward.

Crack!

“GRAH?”

The ground beneath the creature collapsed, sending it plunging into the pit.

The warriors had accounted for its enormous weight.

They covered the opening with thick logs, then concealed them beneath mud, leaves, and forest debris.

Orcs and smaller creatures could cross without triggering it.

The support would only break beneath something at least as heavy as an ogre.

Unfortunately, the trap was not perfect.

Unlike the bipedal ogre, the drake moved on four legs and possessed a long, lizard-like body.

Its momentum carried its front legs, upper body, and head into the pit.

Its hind legs and tail remained hanging over the edge.

“Haaah!”

The moment Karath recognized the problem, he charged toward the creature’s suspended lower body.

Flames gathered in his hand.

While the drake struggled with its head inside the pit, Karath reached its hindquarters.

“Grenade in front, you bastard!”

He threw the Fireball directly at its scaled backside.

Because his simplified Fireball lacked guidance and direction, he needed to approach at close range and release the compressed flames manually.

Boom!

The explosion reached Karath as well.

He threw himself backward the instant the spell left his hand, but he could not completely escape the blast.

Karath raised both arms to protect his face and vital areas.

He avoided a serious injury, although the burning sensation across his arms suggested minor burns.

The explosion knocked the drake’s suspended lower body into the pit.

“Attack!”

Krog immediately issued the command.

Only then did Karath fully see what waited at the bottom.

Dozens of sharpened stakes covered the floor.

The warriors had used the ogre’s bones to grind stone blades and sharpened bones into the finest points they could produce.

Most shattered when they struck the drake’s scales.

However, the creature’s immense weight drove several through the gaps and tore its flesh.

Blood began seeping from its body.

The result revealed how much work Krog, the warriors, and the women of the settlement had completed during the previous month.

They had designed a trap that only a massive creature could trigger.

They had improved their weapons in the hope of piercing the drake’s scales.

Karath’s influence was present in their work.

He had taught them to construct traps from childhood and had explained weapon improvement to Krog.

Even so, the orcs had created this battlefield without Karath’s direct involvement.

The family and settlement that once seemed hopelessly primitive had progressed enormously during the past fifteen years.

A possibility entered Karath’s mind.

Perhaps he would not need to use his desperate final method.

If the warriors continued fighting effectively while Karath supported them with magic, they might defeat the monster.

His prepared method could be used only once.

He wanted to preserve it in case another creature of equal power appeared.

“Second group, circle the pit and throw spears to draw its attention!”

“First group, attack only when it attempts to climb out!”

Krog had abandoned his earlier uncertainty and issued orders skillfully.

“GRAAAAAH!”

As though determined to crush Karath’s optimism, the drake roared and swung its tail.

The pit was deep enough that the long appendage could only strike the ground near the opening.

Boom!

Its destructive power remained terrifying.

The tail exploded through mud, stones, and exposed boulders as if it were a massive grenade.

The nearly vertical walls surrounding the entrance began collapsing.

As the slope became gentler, the drake attempted to crawl upward.

“You damned monster!”

“Die!”

Despite witnessing the destruction, the warriors approached fearlessly.

They threw spears and struck the creature’s scales whenever it tried to escape.

Unfortunately, even sharpened stone axes and monster bones struggled to penetrate its armor.

That remained true despite the superior strength of the orcs wielding them.

The ogre bones had improved the primitive weapons, but the tribe’s limited technology could not produce the extraordinary edge of a true masterwork blade.

At best, their attacks left scars across the scales.

For a creature of such immense size, those injuries were nearly meaningless.

“GRAAAH!”

Like a human enraged by mosquitoes feeding upon him, the drake roared and raised its tail again.

“Retreat!”

Krog sensed danger and shouted urgently.

The orcs, whose bloodlust had driven them into a furious assault, immediately withdrew.

Boom!

The drake’s enormous tail struck the ground where they had been standing.

Mud exploded upward, and stones beneath the surface shattered into powder.

Had they moved a moment later, the same would have happened to the warriors’ bones.

“Throw the spears! Keep its attention away from the others!”

“First group, circle behind it!”

“Retreat!”

The orcs moved in perfect coordination beneath Krog’s commands.

Karath remained behind them, recovering mana after using Fireball and supporting the warriors whenever necessary.

“Shield.”

When the drake’s tail flew toward one of the warriors, Karath gathered and compressed the surrounding air into something resembling an inflated cushion.

The shield burst instantly beneath the creature’s overwhelming strength.

However, the fraction of a second it created allowed the warrior to throw himself aside and narrowly escape being crushed.

The battle continued in an uneasy balance.

Under Krog’s command, the warriors struck and withdrew while the drake’s tail, claws, and head threatened them.

Whenever a crisis occurred, Karath used magic to support them.

Small wounds continued accumulating across the monster’s scales.

Boom!

Meanwhile, the drake’s violent struggles gradually destroyed the pit until it could barely function as a trap.

The warriors did not surrender.

Krog and the others had anticipated this possibility.

They were waiting for a single decisive opportunity.

“GRAAAH!”

The drake finally destroyed enough of the pit for its upper body to climb out.

“Attack!”

Rather than panicking, the orcs charged from both sides and divided the monster’s attention.

One warrior had spent the entire battle waiting for this moment.

Kaden approached the drake as silently as possible.

For the past month, he had trained only one movement.

A downward strike.

Normally, Kaden would have announced himself with a thunderous laugh.

This opportunity had been purchased by the warriors risking their lives.

Even someone called a half-ogre in both body and mind understood that he could not waste it.

While the drake focused upon the orcs attacking from either side, Kaden reached the front of its head.

“KHAAAAAH!”

At the final moment, he released everything he had restrained.

The strongest warrior in the settlement swung the ogre femur that the village women had spent a month sharpening in turns.

His full strength descended toward the center of the drake’s forehead.

Boom!

The collision produced a sound too violent to have come from scale and bone.

The bone axe split the scale between the drake’s eyes and cut into the flesh beneath it.

That was the limit.

The opportunity created by Kaden and every other warrior failed to break the drake’s skull.

Karath cursed.

At that moment, the truth became undeniable.

The resources available within the settlement were not enough to kill this creature.

His prepared method was the only remaining option.

“SCREEEEEECH!”

Whether from the blood flowing between its eyes or the terrible pain beneath the wound, the drake released an earth-shaking shriek.

Whoooooosh.

A violent current of air gathered around its jaws.

“Scatter immediately!”

Karath shouted the moment he recognized the sign.

He had seen exactly what followed a month earlier.

Breath.

The creature was preparing to unleash the same devastating flames.

“Scatter now!”

Despite shouting for the warriors to flee, Karath charged toward the drake.

Even if they scattered in every direction, not everyone could escape the breath.

If the creature released its attack freely, someone would die.

“Karath?”

“What are you doing?”

The warriors followed his order, then shouted in alarm when they saw him moving toward the monster.

“Trust Karath and keep running!”

Ignoring their worried voices, Karath formed a sphere of fire in his left hand and held the ogre femur in his right.

He ran directly toward the drake’s mouth.

The roaring wind suddenly disappeared as Karath reached its head.

The creature had gathered all the air it needed.

Its swollen abdomen looked ready to burst.

The drake lowered its head and extended its jaws to release the flames.

Karath placed the Fireball beneath its lower jaw, then gripped the ogre femur with both hands.

“Home run, you bastard!”

He swung with all his strength and struck the unstable Fireball just as it touched the drake’s jaw.

Boom!

The impact detonated the spell and smashed an explosion into the underside of the creature’s mouth.

At the final instant, Karath added physical force and momentum to the magical blast.

The drake’s head snapped upward.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

Its breath erupted toward the sky instead of the warriors below.

Chapter 62

A Home Run Against Fire

A pillar of flame tore through the air above the battlefield.

The heat alone made the surrounding warriors stagger backward.

If the drake had lowered its head as intended, that inferno would have swept across the ground and consumed everything before it.

Karath stood directly beneath the monster’s raised jaw.

The explosion from his Fireball had saved the tribe from the breath, but it had also placed him within reach of the enraged creature.

His hands tightened around the ogre femur.

The desperate battle had entered its decisive moment.

The pit was collapsing.

The warriors’ strongest weapons could wound the drake but could not break its skull.

Kaden’s perfect strike had opened the scale between its eyes, yet even that attack failed to reach deeply enough.

Conventional methods had reached their limit.

Karath could no longer preserve the final technique he had prepared during the previous month.

The fire roaring into the sky illuminated the enormous creature like a living calamity.

Around it stood the warriors of a tribe that had once known nothing except charging directly at its prey.

Now they fought in organized groups.

They followed commands, rotated attackers, used traps, strengthened their weapons, and trusted one another enough to retreat when ordered.

They had dragged a monster far beyond their individual strength into a battlefield designed specifically to weaken it.

They had drawn blood from something Karath once believed completely invulnerable.

The Bloodclaw Tribe had changed.

However, progress alone was not enough.

Not yet.

The drake remained alive.

Karath had to bridge the final distance between what the tribe had become and the power required to protect it.

He looked toward the wound Kaden had opened between the creature’s eyes.

That damaged scale was the first true weakness they had created.

The warriors had given Karath an opportunity.

Now he needed to transform it into victory.

The drake lowered its head again as the final flames left its mouth.

Its reptilian eyes fixed upon the small orc standing beneath it.

Karath could feel the hatred within that gaze.

The creature remembered him.

He was the irritating prey that escaped its breath during the storm.

He was also the one who had just redirected its flames.

The drake opened its jaws and released a furious hiss.

Karath did not retreat.

He had once died after allowing responsibility and pressure to consume every part of his life.

Now the same crushing burden had returned.

The difference was that this time, the lives depending upon him belonged to his family.

Karath would not collapse before completing his work.

He would not allow his second life to end in the same meaningless way.

The ogre femur remained raised within his hands.

Mana flowed through his body.

Every lesson from Renstein’s books, every spell pattern he had dismantled, and every principle he had reconstructed during the previous month converged upon the method he had saved for this exact moment.

Karath prepared to use the only attack he believed could kill the drake.

Chapter 63

The Weapon Beneath the Well

Had anyone ever heard of the physical law known as action and reaction?

Karath had successfully used the Fireball and the ogre femur to knock the drake’s jaw upward and redirect its breath.

The reaction to that success was immediate.

“Ghh.”

The Fireball’s explosion hurled him backward.

Cracks spread across the ogre femur that had struck the spell, while burns and scrapes covered Karath’s body from the blast and his violent roll across the ground.

He had no time to care about the pain.

The moment he stopped rolling, Karath forced himself upright.

Instinct warned him that the creature might attack again.

“Grrrr.”

Despite its furious expression, the drake remained in place and struggled to regain its breath after releasing the flames into the sky.

The breath attack seemed to place a considerable burden upon its body.

“Krog!”

Realizing this was their opportunity, Karath called Krog’s name and rushed toward him.

“Ah! Everyone, atta...”

Krog finally recovered from the shock of witnessing the breath and appeared ready to order a full assault.

“That is not what Karath means. Lure it toward the village well!”

“What are you saying? You want us to bring that monster into the village?”

Karath had no time to explain everything.

“There is a way to kill it! Karath will go to the well first and prepare. Keep its attention for a while, then lure it there!”

After shouting the instructions, Karath immediately ran toward the settlement.

One of the warriors could die while he prepared or during the attempt to guide the drake into the village.

The only way to reduce that possibility was to finish as quickly as possible.

The orcs waiting inside the settlement stared at Karath in alarm when he ran through the entrance.

“Karath?”

“What happened?”

“Open the gate completely and retreat toward the rear entrance! The drake will arrive soon!”

Once again, Karath omitted every explanation and shouted only what they needed to do.

“The drake is coming?”

“D-did something happen to the warriors?”

“Do not say something so cursed!”

Confusion began spreading through the village.

“Everyone shut your mouths and move!”

Chief Grild’s roar immediately restored order.

After calming the tribespeople with one shout, Grild looked at Karath.

His expression suggested that he had countless questions, but for now, he would place his trust in him.

Karath was not certain whether he had interpreted the chief correctly.

He nodded once and ran toward the well.

“Good.”

As Karath had confirmed that morning, the water had risen so high that it was nearly overflowing.

A month of monsoon rain had filled the underground water reserves.

“Hup!”

Karath swung the ogre femur and smashed apart the low stone wall surrounding the well.

Then he removed the object he had carried from the beginning of the hunt.

A jewel smaller than his palm shimmered with countless colours.

According to the journal left by Renstein, the laboratory’s former owner, it was called a mana stone.

Such stones occasionally formed in regions with unusually dense concentrations of mana.

When mana became too concentrated to flow naturally, it condensed into physical form.

The stone contained far more mana than Karath had accumulated throughout the previous month.

Using it would allow him to cast an enormous spell.

The problem was that his current control remained insufficient for constructing formulas as complicated as Fourth or Fifth Circle magic.

That was why he had spent his time developing spells based upon the simple patterns of the First and Second Circles.

He needed an attack that used only a small number of patterns while compensating for its simplicity through an overwhelming quantity of mana.

The mana stone was also a consumable resource.

Once emptied, it would become useless.

Karath intended to use it only when he possessed a method that could kill the drake with certainty.

He had continued debating whether to use it throughout the earlier battle.

What if he filled the entire pit with Fire?

The thought had occurred to him, but he could not believe it would definitely kill the creature.

The Fireballs detonated against the drake’s backside and lower jaw had left only faint scorch marks upon its scales.

A monster capable of breathing fire might possess exceptional resistance to heat.

Other spells presented the same problem.

Adding more mana to a First or Second Circle spell generally increased its size or range.

It did not dramatically change the fundamental power of the effect.

Such magic could slaughter groups of humans or orcs, but it would probably fail to penetrate the drake’s scales and bones.

After countless hours of thought, Karath found one possibility.

He needed to concentrate extreme force upon a very small point.

Unfortunately, the method required both the mana stone and the village well.

Failure could devastate the settlement.

However, every other weapon and spell had already proven incapable of inflicting a fatal injury.

There was no longer any reason to hesitate.

Hummmmm.

Karath manipulated the mana flowing inside his body and stimulated the mana stone.

Violent waves of energy poured from it.

The volume exceeded everything within Karath’s own body, and a painful sensation like electricity surged through the hand gripping the stone.

“Haa.”

Karath ignored the pain and sat where the stone wall had stood.

He seized the mana streaming from the jewel and began forming magical patterns.

Whoooom.

Following the structures he created, portions of the air began circling his hands.

Karath forced the air to remain still, then plunged both hands into the well.

He manipulated one layer of air around the surface of the water.

The rest descended toward the bottom.

When it reached the base of the well, he stopped its movement and formed an enclosed oval space filled entirely with water.

“Hup!”

Karath began pulling the lower air layer upward.

It was similar to pressing the plunger of a water-filled syringe.

By combining the First Circle elemental manipulation of air with the compression pattern, Karath began forcing the water into a smaller space.

The difference was that this cylinder, constructed from mana and air, had no outlet.

Hummmmm.

When the pressure reached a certain level, a tremendous opposing force struck Karath.

“Ghh.”

He drew in even more air and layered additional compression patterns upon the structure.

The more tightly the water was compressed, the stronger its resistance became.

Blood began flowing from Karath’s nose.

His entire body trembled like an ancient computer trapped within an endless loop.

He paid no attention to his physical condition.

Thought had already disappeared.

Like a damaged machine, he simply repeated the calculations he needed to complete.

No matter how violently his body shook, Karath continued gathering air and layering the compression process again and again.

The calculations involved only two combined patterns, placing the spell at the theoretical level of the Second Circle.

However, the amount of mana he controlled had already surpassed anything a Second Circle spell should require.

Karath had practiced the process on a smaller scale.

He had also estimated the necessary mana.

Reality exceeded every calculation.

Only his previous preparation allowed him to endure at all.

Hummmmm.

Enormous quantities of energy continued pouring from the mana stone in his right hand.

The overload spreading through Karath’s body felt like an innovative method of suicide.

Contradictorily, he remained grateful.

This attempt was possible only because the well already existed and was filled with water.

Had Karath needed to create the water as well, the number of calculations and the difficulty of control would have multiplied.

He would not have been capable of beginning.

Thud.

Thud.

The heavy vibrations penetrated Karath’s fading awareness and pulled him back toward reality.

He raised his head.

Krog was running through the village gate toward the well.

Crash!

Behind him, the drake smashed its tail through the stone wall surrounding the settlement and charged inside.

The entire scene appeared to move in slow motion.

Krog opened his mouth and shouted something while approaching.

“Kaaaaraaaath!”

Both the sound and his movements were so distorted that Karath could not understand him.

He could only trust Krog and continue compressing the water.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Within the slowed world, Krog gradually reached him and ran past.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

The drake followed.

It opened its enormous jaws and exposed rows of sharp teeth, intending to swallow Karath whole.

“Haaaa.”

The moment he saw it, Karath added one final process to the compression he had repeated endlessly.

Creating a tiny opening in the air layer above the water would produce something similar to a waterjet cutter.

That alone was not enough.

A waterjet lost strength as it travelled because the stream spread outward with distance.

It would still possess enough force to pulverise the bones of an ordinary human or animal, but it might fail against the drake.

Karath formed another wall of air above the layer sealing the water’s surface.

This one took the shape of a cone.

Its narrow end pointed directly into the drake’s open mouth and toward the roof of its jaws.

The sudden additional calculation pushed Karath’s overloaded body beyond its limit.

Something surged upward from within him.

He clenched his teeth and forced his throat shut.

Blood still spilled from his mouth.

It had come from somewhere inside his body.

Even then, the mana manipulation did not stop.

The cone-shaped layer of air completed itself.

At its tip, Karath opened a hole no larger than a point.

Then he erased the air layer restraining the surface of the well and drove the magical piston upward with all his remaining strength.

Hiss!

A thread of water erupted from the tiny opening.

It looked weak, no thicker than a narrow stream.

Slice.

That seemingly fragile blade possessed enough force to cut modern steel like soft tofu.

It passed effortlessly through the roof of the drake’s mouth.

The stream carved through bone and entered its brain.

Chapter 64

The Fall of the Drake

“GRAAAAAH!”

The enormous quantity of water released from the compressed well spread violently in every direction inside the drake’s skull.

Only a single narrow stream struck the roof of its mouth.

Even so, the force lifted the massive creature’s head into the air.

Karath continued releasing the pressure.

Water vanished from the well at a terrifying rate.

The stream tore through flesh, bone, and brain tissue without slowing.

The drake thrashed above him.

Its claws tore through the earth, and its tail struck the ruined walls and surrounding ground.

The monster’s enormous body possessed strength capable of crushing stone, yet none of that power could protect it from the blade already cutting through the inside of its skull.

The attack did not challenge its scales.

It ignored the armour completely.

Karath had aimed through the open mouth because it offered a path to the softer tissue within.

The creature’s own attempt to swallow him had exposed the only opening he needed.

The concentrated jet continued drilling upward.

The pressure Karath had built through the well was finally escaping, and once released, it could no longer be controlled gently.

It behaved like a blade with no regard for whatever stood in its path.

The drake’s roar twisted into a shriek.

Its head jerked backward as the stream carved through the skull from within.

Karath remained seated beside the shattered well.

Blood flowed from his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears.

His body trembled uncontrollably beneath the strain of manipulating an amount of mana far beyond his natural capacity.

The mana stone continued releasing energy into his hand.

Karath forced every remaining trace into the spell.

There could be no second attempt.

If he stopped too early, the wounded monster might survive.

If it survived, the mana stone would already be empty, and the settlement would stand open before an enraged drake.

Karath could not allow that.

The Bloodclaw Tribe had already done everything within its power.

Krog had planned the hunt.

Kurdan had risked his life to lure the creature.

The warriors had dug the enormous pit through the monsoon.

The women had sharpened countless stones and bones.

Kaden had struck the scale between its eyes with all the strength the village possessed.

Every tribesperson had contributed to creating this final opportunity.

Karath would not waste it.

The well emptied further.

When nearly half the water had been discharged, the pressure inside the drake’s skull reached its conclusion.

BOOM!

The back of the creature’s head exploded.

Scales, blood, fragments of bone, brain matter, and water scattered across the settlement.

For one grotesque moment, the dying drake became the centre of a horrifying fountain.

Its vast body froze.

The jaws that had been descending toward Karath remained open.

The light faded from its reptilian eyes.

Its legs gave way.

The massive creature collapsed beside the destroyed well with enough force to shake the village.

Karath watched it fall through vision blurred by blood and exhaustion.

The mana stone in his hand had lost its brilliant colours.

The enormous energy sealed within it was gone.

Every pattern Karath had struggled to maintain collapsed with the death of the target.

The remaining pressure dispersed.

The trembling in his body worsened.

He could no longer feel his fingers.

The ogre femur lay nearby, cracked from the earlier explosion.

The stone wall surrounding the settlement had been broken.

The well had been half emptied and stripped of its protective barrier.

Mud, blood, and pieces of the drake covered the ground.

The cost had been enormous.

Still, no flames had consumed the tribe.

The warriors had not been slaughtered.

His mother, the children, the elders, and every other member of the Bloodclaw Tribe remained alive.

Karath had found a method.

It had been dangerous, inefficient, and possible only once.

It combined primitive infrastructure, a rare magical resource, First and Second Circle patterns, and knowledge from a world that had never heard of mana.

It was not a traditional spell.

No mage in Renstein’s books had described such an attack.

Karath had dismantled magic like code and rebuilt it into a weapon suited to the problem before him.

A magical waterjet cutter.

The result had killed a creature that stone weapons, monster bones, traps, and ordinary spells could barely wound.

Karath’s second life had begun inside a freezing hut as a helpless infant.

He had once been unable to move, speak, or understand the orcs surrounding him.

Now a monster powerful enough to destroy the entire settlement lay dead at his feet.

The world called creatures like Karath monsters.

Yet it was Karath who had protected his family from something truly monstrous.

His body leaned forward.

Strength abandoned every muscle at once.

Even remaining conscious required more energy than he possessed.

“Die... you damned lizard...”

Those were Karath’s final words.

Then blood continued flowing from his nose, mouth, eyes, ears, and countless damaged vessels across his body as he collapsed unconscious beside the well.

Chapter 65

A Mother’s Pride

“Ghhh...”

When Karath regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was not relief at being alive.

It was the terrible pain spreading through his entire body.

A groan escaped him as he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was his mother’s face looking down at him with worry filling her eyes.

“Karath!”

“How long was Karath unconscious?”

He barely managed to ask the question through the worst pain he had experienced since being reborn as an orc.

“Haa...”

Delina released a deep sigh.

It was a surprisingly human reaction for an orc.

“It has already been a week.”

During that week, she had done everything possible to care for her son.

It reminded her of Karath’s infancy, when he had nearly died several times.

She never wanted to experience that fear again.

“A whole week... Then the drake must be dead.”

Karath stopped halfway through the question as the final scene before his collapse returned to him.

The drake’s head had exploded into the most grotesque fountain imaginable.

If it had survived even that, the situation would have belonged in a horror film.

However, Delina sitting beside him meant nothing so absurd had occurred.

“Yes. Everyone followed your order and withdrew toward the rear gate, so Delina did not see everything clearly. However, the drake’s head had burst apart, and the entire area around the well was devastated. What kind of shamanic art did you use?”

Delina had often seen shamans exhausted after performing rituals.

She had never seen someone reduced to the edge of death after using a single technique.

She clearly had much she wanted to say.

“Haa... Forgive Delina, Karath. Resting comes first.”

After looking down at her son lying helplessly on the floor, she pushed the question aside.

The condition in which the tribe had found Karath beside the drake’s corpse had been far too severe.

“Still, the tribe killed that enormous monster because of you. Everyone outside is calling you a hero.”

She added the words in an attempt to encourage her wounded son.

“First Delina’s husband, and now her son, has become a hero of the village. Delina must be a truly fortunate orc. But...”

Her expression became difficult to read.

“Delina cannot feel only happiness, my son.”

At that moment, she looked less like an orc and more like what she truly was.

A mother.

In the past, Delina had been an ordinary orc who believed dying to protect the settlement was the greatest honour a warrior could achieve.

That was why she had always spoken proudly of Garthon’s death.

When she first learned that Karath had lured the drake away from the village, she had repeated to herself that his actions were worthy of pride.

As the days of his disappearance increased, however, that pride weakened.

Grief and longing replaced it.

When Karath returned on the fifth day, Delina realised she had been wrong.

Her son living without honour would bring her far greater happiness than his death as an honoured warrior.

Only one month later, Karath had nearly died again.

Her maternal instincts had now reached their limit.

“Heh. Karath will be more careful next time.”

As though understanding the change within her heart, Karath deliberately responded like a small child despite the true age of his mind.

“Yes. Rest properly for the next few days. Everyone wants to see you, but Delina will not allow anyone inside until you recover.”

“Yes, Mother. Thank you.”

“You only call Delina Mother at times like this.”

“Keh.”

Karath laughed awkwardly at her scolding.

Fifteen days passed quickly beneath Delina’s devoted care.

As she had promised, not a single tribesperson entered the house during Karath’s recovery.

Many came to the door after hearing that the drake slayer had awakened.

None succeeded in entering.

Karath could not see what happened outside, but Delina had probably driven everyone away with an exceptionally murderous glare.

Judging from the voices that passed through the door, even Chief Grild and Elder Jark had visited.

Delina showed them no mercy.

The power of maternal love was truly terrifying.

Under the protection of that great force, Karath’s body stabilised rapidly.

His condition had been severe, yet he recovered completely in only three weeks, including the first week he spent unconscious.

The physical resilience of orcs continued to amaze him.

His recovery produced more than healed wounds.

“As expected. The absorption rate has increased.”

The amount of mana entering his body with each breath had risen dramatically.

Karath suspected that using the mana stone to create the waterjet cutter had greatly increased his body’s sensitivity to mana.

Sensing and gathering it had both become much easier.

Perhaps the pathways through which mana travelled had grown stronger, just as torn muscles became more durable after healing.

That did not mean Karath intended to repeat the process in an attempt to improve them further.

Looking back, the entire act had been madness.

He had manipulated a quantity of mana far beyond what his body could endure.

Survival had been a matter of luck.

His body might have exploded before he killed the drake.

The event had ultimately become a blessing by improving his ability to gather mana, but Karath had no desire to attempt it again.

Naturally, he might have no choice if the settlement faced another crisis.

There was also the minor problem that the mana stone no longer existed, making another attempt impossible even if he wanted one.

Thanks to his increased sensitivity, Karath’s mana reserves were growing quickly.

With a little more accumulation, he believed he would be able to use Third Circle spells without difficulty.

Reaching the Fourth Circle would still require time.

The difference in mana required between each level was considerable.

Even so, Karath should continue studying the theory.

Now that his body had recovered, he considered returning to the underground laboratory.

He left the house.

“Karath!”

“Have you completely recovered?”

“Krahahaha! The hero has finally emerged!”

Gerina noticed him first near the house.

Her shout drew every nearby orc toward him.

“You protected the village with the shamanic art left by the ancestors!”

“Karath must truly be the treasure the ancestors sent to save the Bloodclaw Tribe! Krahahaha!”

“Krahahaha! Karath, half your body has disappeared!”

While the rest of the tribe praised him as the hero who protected the settlement, Kaden approached and immediately spoke nonsense.

Since he was the only warrior remaining in the village, today was probably his rest day.

“Kaden! Karath became thin because he pushed his shamanic power too far!”

“That is right! How can you say such a thing to the warrior who protected the village?”

“Even if he has lost weight, he is still our hero!”

Karath fell silent.

The tribespeople defended him, but their choice of words did not make him feel any better.

“Has Karath truly become that thin?”

“Yes. Your body has almost been cut in half.”

“It cannot be helped. You used the great shamanic art left by the ancestors.”

“It was powerful enough to kill that terrifying drake. Of course his body would end up like that!”

What exactly did they mean by like that?

Feeling increasingly uneasy, Karath pushed through the crowd and approached the well.

The repairs had already been completed during his recovery.

The shattered stone barrier and the remains of the drake had disappeared, and the well had returned to its original appearance.

Karath looked at his reflection in the water.

Only then did he understand.

His muscle loss was severe.

The enormous and heavily muscled body he once possessed had disappeared.

In its place was a balanced, athletic physique that people on Earth would have considered exceptionally attractive.

By human standards, it might have been the ideal body, especially for attracting romantic interest.

However, Karath’s mind had already been thoroughly corrupted by orc standards.

He looked like nothing but a scrawny weakling.

What were these thin arms that looked ready to snap if a troll touched them?

“Krahahaha! From today onward, Kaden will claim the title of the village’s strongest warrior. Karath can remain the greatest shaman.”

While Karath silently mourned his weakened appearance, Kaden approached and provoked him again.

Comparing his reflection with Kaden made the difference even more obvious.

Kaden, called a half-ogre because of his size and strength, now looked nearly twice as large as Karath.

Kaden had always been bigger, but the difference had never been this humiliating.

Karath had already spent a month inside studying magic after returning from the underground laboratory.

Then he spent another three weeks lying down.

The resulting muscle loss had been catastrophic.

Training would begin today.

Karath needed to recover what he had lost.

Only then could he crush the face of that irritating Kaden.

Karath’s technique was still superior, but striking Kaden with arms this thin, although they remained as thick as those of a trained human athlete, would probably only make him look mildly amused.

“Kaden, stop harassing Karath because you failed to kill the drake yourself.”

“T-that is not what Kaden is doing!”

The women in the settlement continued defending Karath.

Judging from Kaden’s suddenly red face, Gerina’s accusation had struck the truth.

Chapter 66

The Drake’s Legacy

“Ah, Karath has not chosen his share yet.”

“Chosen what?”

“The bones, tendons, scales, and other materials taken from the drake.”

“Ah...”

“The heart naturally should have belonged to you, but you were unconscious and could not eat it. We could not leave it untouched for several days.”

“That is true.”

Cold sweat appeared on Karath’s back at the thought of eating an entire drake heart raw.

“Keh heh heh. You should have seen how furious Delina became because of that.”

“Mother was angry?”

“Yes. Since feeding you the whole heart was impossible, she extracted some of its blood and made you drink it. The other warriors divided what remained.”

“The blood?”

It had already been digested and disappeared long ago.

Even so, hearing about it made Karath’s stomach feel strangely heavy.

“We gathered the bones and scales from the drake over there. Would you like to see them?”

“Yes. Karath should take a look.”

Karath followed his aunts to the place where the tribe had collected the drake’s remains.

“Wow...”

The sight drew an involuntary sound of admiration from him.

Enormous, thick bones formed a small hill.

Seeing them made Karath realise once again how massive the drake had truly been.

“The warriors considered dividing them and using them as weapons,” Gerina explained beside him. “Unfortunately, the bones are too hard and durable to shape easily. Using them without modification is also difficult because they are too thick to grip and swing.”

Karath barely heard her.

Mana flowed faintly from the drake’s bones.

Mana existed everywhere in the world.

Even ordinary stones and the bones of other monsters contained minute traces of it.

However, the concentration within these bones was entirely different.

With material like this, Karath could create something he had considered for a long time but had been unable to attempt because he lacked the necessary resources.

His thoughts became so consumed by the possibilities that Gerina’s explanation faded into the background.

“You killed the drake, Karath. Choose whichever bones you want. Take all of them if you need them.”

The moment Gerina said those words, Karath’s heart began pounding.

He felt like a child asked what gift he wanted before Christmas.

The battle had already demonstrated the strength of the drake’s skeleton.

Its bones rivalled decent steel in hardness, and mana flowed through them in significant quantities.

Merely imagining what he could create made his mouth water.

“Ahem. Karath will think carefully before choosing.”

He had not yet decided exactly what to make.

For now, he postponed selecting his reward.

While walking away and considering the possibilities, Karath heard familiar barking.

“Woof! Woof!”

Buddy approached with obvious excitement after seeing him for the first time in weeks.

The wolf reached Karath, bit the primitive leather covering around his foot, and attempted to drag him somewhere.

“What is it? Is there something Buddy wants to show Karath?”

Karath had already learned that the young wolf was remarkably intelligent.

He allowed Buddy to lead him.

The nearby tribespeople found the behaviour interesting and followed them.

Buddy moved at the front like the leader of a pack.

He guided the group toward the outer edge of the settlement near the stone wall.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Using both front paws like a dog, Buddy enthusiastically dug into the earth.

Karath and the tribespeople watched with expressions asking what the wolf was doing.

“Hah. Hah. Hah.”

After digging for a while, Buddy turned toward Karath with a proud expression.

Karath could not respond.

He stared silently at the object hidden inside the hole.

Chapter 67

Buddy’s Hidden Treasure

“A mana stone?”

A jewel radiating brilliant colours lay inside the hole Buddy had dug.

As though entranced, Karath crouched and lifted it from the earth.

This was not the same mana stone he had brought from the underground laboratory.

He could tell as soon as he held it.

It was slightly smaller than the one consumed during the drake battle.

More importantly, the texture was different.

The first mana stone had been extremely hard, exactly as the word stone suggested.

This one felt faintly soft beneath his fingers.

“Ah. So this is where Buddy hid it.”

Karath looked up in surprise when Gerina spoke as though she recognised the object.

“You know what it is?”

“That stone you are holding was found near the drake’s heart while everyone was butchering the corpse. Gerina thought it was merely something the monster had swallowed and intended to throw it away, but Buddy picked it up and carried it somewhere.”

“Ah...”

Karath stared at Buddy in astonishment.

Had the wolf remembered seeing Karath use a mana stone and deliberately saved something similar?

Karath had already felt uneasy after consuming the only mana stone he possessed.

If another monster as powerful as the drake appeared near the village, he had no reliable method of dealing with it.

Buddy had now removed that fear with ridiculous ease.

“Thank you, Buddy. From now on, Karath will give you the finest meat and hearts every day.”

Karath approached the wolf, who held his head proudly, and stroked his fur.

As though understanding every word, Buddy barked twice and wagged his tail.

Another fifteen days passed after Karath rose from his sickbed.

His daily routine remained simple.

The moment he woke, he sat cross-legged and repeated the breathing method used to accumulate mana.

After gathering a sufficient amount, he left the house and headed toward the place where the drake’s remains were stored.

The bones, scales, and tendons had been cleaned and moved into a newly constructed earthen building.

It served as the settlement’s communal warehouse and had been built specifically to prevent the valuable materials from remaining scattered outdoors.

Naturally, Karath had ordered its construction.

Without his intervention, the tribe would probably have left everything exposed to the weather indefinitely.

“Karath! Are you making Kaden’s weapon today?”

Kaden called out with an expectant expression as Karath walked toward the warehouse.

“Yours is too large. It has to be made last.”

Karath laughed and walked past him.

Until recently, Kaden had mocked him for becoming weak.

Now he expected to receive his weapon before everyone else.

“Tsk. Kaden really needs to learn how to read the situation.”

“Krahahaha! That is part of his charm.”

Krog’s teasing voice and the booming laughter of the older warriors followed from behind.

They had gathered near the well to wash before departing for hunting and patrol duties.

Under ordinary circumstances, Karath would have joined them now that he had recovered.

Instead, he had been excused.

The task assigned to him was more important than hunting or scouting.

“Today, Karath should prepare Krog’s weapon.”

After entering the warehouse, he examined the bones scattered throughout the interior and selected one of a suitable size.

“It is absurdly large.”

Had Arnold attempted to lift it in his previous life, he would have needed both arms merely to embrace its weight.

Karath carried it to the only properly organised section of the room and sat upon the floor.

“Haa.”

After taking a deep breath, he moved the mana inside his body and interfered with the energy flowing naturally around him.

The mana surrounding his right hand twisted into strange patterns.

Hummmmm.

A sharp sound that made the skin crawl began repeating above his palm.

It was the Third Circle spell Wind Cutter.

More precisely, it was Karath’s personally modified Wind Cutter, Version Three.

Version Two had been a failure.

A conventional Wind Cutter compressed air, rotated it, and launched the resulting blade toward a target.

As usual, Karath removed the part responsible for flight.

Instead, he greatly increased the intensity of rotation and compression.

The result was a violently spinning chainsaw formed from blades of air above his right hand.

Removing the directional pattern reduced the required calculations.

However, the actual mana consumption remained at the Third Circle level.

That meant Karath’s mana reserves had finally grown enough to use Third Circle magic freely.

It was the reward for gathering mana consistently throughout the previous fifteen days.

Karath brought the rotating wind blade toward the drake bone held in his left hand.

He had developed this modified Wind Cutter specifically to process the drake’s skeleton.

Working ogre bones against other ogre bones had been difficult enough.

Drake bones belonged to an entirely different level.

Rubbing bones together worked reasonably well for sharpening an edge or creating a point.

It was extremely inconvenient when trying to cut a material into a specific size.

Most drake bones were far too thick and large for an orc to grip properly.

Karath therefore cut them into suitable sizes and shapes.

Afterward, the women used smaller drake bones to grind the edges and sharpen them.

This work was the reason he had been excused from hunting and patrols.

No one else could cut the bones into usable forms.

That did not make the process easy.

If the improvised Wind Cutter could slice through drake bone effortlessly, Karath would never have needed to nearly kill himself during the battle.

Hummmmm.

Screeeeech.

An unpleasant grinding noise erupted where the Wind Cutter met the bone.

Fine white powder sprayed outward like sawdust.

That was why Karath thought of the spell as a saw blade.

The absurdly durable bone could only be worn away little by little, as though he were slowly sawing through it.

“Haa.”

After grinding for approximately one minute, Karath had cut only one centimetre deep.

His mana reserves were already near exhaustion from maintaining a Third Circle spell for so long.

He closed his eyes and began breathing again.

Once his mana recovered, he recreated Wind Cutter and resumed sawing.

Making weapons for the warriors was not Karath’s true goal.

There was another project he wanted to attempt using drake bone.

The problem was that his intended work required extremely precise cutting.

Karath had almost no experience with a saw in either of his lives.

The only time he remembered using one was during military service.

Chapter 68

The Shaman Who Was Fading

For now, he was using the warriors’ weapons as an excuse to practise.

The first few he produced had been terribly uneven around the cut surfaces.

The warriors who received them still celebrated as though they had been given priceless treasures.

“Ugh. Karath’s body is becoming stiff.”

After spending a long time alternating between sawing and mana recovery while sitting cross-legged, Karath stood.

“One, two, three, four.”

He twisted his body in different directions and stretched.

When he finished, Karath selected a relatively balanced section of drake bone and held it with both hands.

He placed it across his shoulders, bent his knees, and counted silently.

The bone became a barbell for squats.

After completing four sets of fifteen repetitions, Karath moved on to deadlifts.

Since he lacked a bench, he strapped a drake bone across his back and performed push-ups instead of bench presses.

He repeated several other exercises remembered from gyms and online videos in his former life.

After seeing his weakened reflection in the well several days earlier, Karath had immediately begun rebuilding his lost muscle.

Arnold had never trained like a professional athlete.

He began exercising in his late twenties for basic health maintenance.

Programming was a profession that gradually destroyed the body, and surviving without exercise had become increasingly difficult.

Later, when he became the head of a company, appearance and self-discipline also became important.

Even so, most of Karath’s knowledge came from personal trainers and exercise videos.

“Perhaps Karath should teach the tribe later.”

The thought occurred while he trained alone.

Orcs developed enormous physiques even when their only exercise consisted of fighting and surviving.

What would happen if they followed systematic strength training?

Karath imagined it.

He could almost smell the sweat.

“Still, everyone would enjoy it.”

In orc society, an enormous muscular body was the highest form of beauty.

If Karath created exercise equipment and taught them how to use it, the tribe would probably become obsessed.

He decided to attempt it later.

Then the same routine began again.

Karath ground the bone with Wind Cutter.

When his mana ran low, he recovered it through breathing.

When his body became stiff from sitting, he stood and exercised.

The work that began in the morning finally ended near sunset.

“Here, Aunt Gerina. This one will become Krog’s axe.”

Karath handed her the section of bone he had shaped into an axe head, then ate dinner using the prey brought back by the warriors.

“Karath! You made Kaden’s weapon today, right?”

Kaden returned carrying prey and immediately asked the same question.

“Buddy, it is time to eat.”

Karath ignored him.

As promised, he selected the part of the monster Buddy liked most and gave it to the wolf.

Karath possessed priority over the prey even though he had not participated in the hunt.

The reason was simple.

It was naturally because Karath was the future chief and the settlement’s hero.

That was not the reason at all.

Karath could have demanded such treatment, but he had no interest in using authority and honour for something so petty.

He was a generous man.

This arrangement was a trade.

The warriors who received weapons made from drake bone surrendered their priority over the best portions of prey in return.

Karath willingly shared part of that reward with Buddy.

“Karath! When will you make mine?”

“Good boy. You are eating well.”

Ignoring the sound of a noisy dog nearby, Karath stroked Buddy’s head while the wolf devoured the meat.

Karath was a generous man.

After finishing his remarkably magnanimous meal, he returned home and began reading.

The books he had first brought from the laboratory had already been read so many times that he had nearly memorised them.

That did not matter.

The books before him now were different.

Several days earlier, Karath had returned to the underground laboratory with a group of warriors and brought back more volumes.

He told them that he had discovered ruins containing the knowledge of the ancestors.

The lie was ridiculous, but no one questioned it.

Thus, Karath worked and exercised from morning until evening, then studied at night.

His life became the perfect example of labouring by day and reading after dark.

“Yaaawn.”

The following morning, Karath stretched as he rose.

As usual, he left the house intending to head toward the warehouse.

“Waaaah!”

“Krahahaha! You are not going to cry today, are you, Kuzan?”

Several orcs had gathered before another house and were laughing excitedly.

“Ah. Today is Kuzan’s coming-of-age ceremony.”

Karath finally remembered that it was his cousin’s birthday.

Kuzan had been born five months after him.

Karath recalled his own ceremony and decided to watch for a while.

“D-do you think Kuzan would cry?”

Kuzan emerged from the house while making an unconvincing display of courage.

He headed toward the home of Kairin, the tribe’s official shaman.

When Kuzan approached, Kairin opened the door to welcome him.

Karath’s expression immediately hardened.

Only five months had passed since his own coming-of-age ceremony.

During that brief period, Kairin’s face had become far more gaunt.

Shamans aged rapidly whenever they performed their rituals.

The previous shaman, Aunt Garlik, had suffered the same fate.

Karath had never understood the reason or known how to solve it.

Because of that, he had deliberately ignored the problem.

Primitive faith remained important to the Bloodclaw Tribe.

No matter how much influence Karath gained, he could not simply order them to abandon their rituals.

However, the first thing Karath remembered when trying to sense mana had been the spiritual power used by Kairin and Garlik.

There had to be some connection between shamanism and magic.

“Damn it. Karath became too obsessed with the drake.”

From the moment he first learned magic until the monster’s death, Karath had focused entirely upon finding a way to kill it.

He never considered helping Kairin.

That explanation was only another excuse.

More than a month had passed since the drake hunt.

The truth was that Karath had not treated her condition as a serious problem.

While he ignored it, she continued fading.

Karath had intended to use magic to protect and strengthen every member of the tribe.

Instead, he had neglected one of them.

“Wait.”

Karath stepped forward.

There could be no exceptions within his tribe.

“Kairin, Kuzan. Would it be all right if Karath entered and watched today’s ceremony?”

For now, he intended to observe her ritual directly.

He would discover the true nature of orc shamanism and find a solution that could save her.

Chapter 69

The Nature of Shamanism

“Why do you need to watch?”

Kairin and Kuzan asked the question at the same time.

Several nearby orcs who had come to observe the coming-of-age ceremony also looked puzzled.

“Karath also received shamanic knowledge from the ancestors, so he wants to see what kind of ritual Kairin uses.”

Once again, Karath shamelessly invoked the ancestors.

Surely no divine punishment would descend upon him for exploiting their name so often.

“Hmm. Then after the ceremony, can Karath show Kairin his shamanic art? Kairin has been curious as well.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then Karath may enter with us.”

Kairin nodded willingly, apparently accepting his excuse.

The surrounding orcs also nodded as though the arrangement made perfect sense.

Only Kuzan, the subject of the ceremony, looked like a frightened puppy desperate to relieve itself.

Kairin’s house had not changed during the five months since Karath last entered it.

A brazier stood in the centre of the small earthen room.

A wooden rod heated by fire rested above it.

“Hmmm...”

Kairin hummed what the tribe considered a shamanic chant while using the burning rod to draw tattoos across Kuzan’s body.

“Ghhh.”

Every time the heated wood touched his skin, Kuzan squeezed his eyes shut and desperately suppressed his groans.

From time to time, he also glared resentfully at Karath.

Now that he was about to become an adult male and an orc warrior, he probably did not want anyone to witness him making an embarrassing sound.

Karath easily ignored his cousin’s accusing gaze and focused entirely upon Kairin’s ritual.

“Hmmm...”

Pale smoke emerged from Kairin’s mouth in response to her humming and wrapped around Kuzan’s burned skin.

Sizzle.

The scorched wounds rapidly began to heal.

As expected, what emerged from her mouth was mana.

It was not the nearly imperceptible energy that flowed naturally through the environment.

This mana had been deliberately concentrated.

Naturally, the energy Kairin released also followed a pattern.

Karath carefully observed the ritual and attempted to memorise that structure.

Meanwhile, cold sweat gathered across Kuzan’s forehead as he endured the burns.

“Hmmm...”

Kairin’s forehead was also covered in sweat.

In fact, she appeared to be suffering even more than Kuzan.

“Hmmm...”

The moment Karath completely memorised the magical pattern behind her ritual, he stepped forward while humming the same melody.

Kairin paused and looked at him in confusion.

Karath offered no explanation.

He manipulated the mana flowing through his body while continuing the hum.

Then he placed his palm over one of Kuzan’s burns.

“Hmmm...”

Karath used his own mana to interfere with the energy flowing around Kuzan’s skin.

Under his control, the surrounding mana formed the same pattern Kairin had produced.

A moment later, the burned skin began healing rapidly.

“Kairin should continue drawing the tribal markings. Karath will handle the ritual.”

Kairin stared in surprise after seeing him reproduce her shamanic art perfectly.

Then she nodded and resumed moving the heated rod.

“Hmmm...”

Karath continued humming as he healed every section after the rod passed.

“Ghhhh.”

Kuzan had already been forcing himself not to groan because Karath was nearby.

Now that Karath stood directly beside him and performed the ritual, Kuzan looked ready to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

Karath clicked his tongue inwardly.

If it hurt, Kuzan should simply admit it.

When Karath underwent his own ceremony, he had endured pain like this with ease.

“Finished.”

The process of burning the Bloodclaw markings into Kuzan’s body finally ended just before foam began forming around his mouth.

“K-krahaha. T-that was nothing!”

Kuzan had looked moments away from death, yet he immediately began boasting.

He might have seemed more convincing if his entire body had not been trembling.

“Make sure you succeed in your hunt, Kuzan.”

Karath offered encouragement to his pitiful cousin and gently pushed him outside.

Only after Kuzan left did Karath turn to the true purpose of his visit.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. Thanks to Karath, Kairin was practically resting during the second half.”

She smiled lightly as she answered.

“Then begin recovering the mana you used.”

“Recovering it? Does Karath mean resting?”

“Were you never taught how to gather or restore that energy? Not even by Aunt Garlik?”

“Kairin was only told to rest properly.”

Her answer was exactly what Karath had expected.

The tribal shamans knew how to spend mana but had no idea how to gather or replenish it.

Karath sighed.

The problem went beyond simple ignorance of mana accumulation.

Based upon what he had just observed and everything he knew about the previous shamans, the energy they used was different from the mana Karath manipulated.

It was closer to life force.

Instead of drawing upon mana flowing through nature, they sacrificed portions of their own lifespan to perform shamanic arts.

“Among the teachings Karath received from the ancestors is a method for gathering and restoring mana, the energy Kairin uses.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Once Kairin learns how to collect and restore it, using shamanic arts should no longer be so exhausting.”

Karath fully intended to teach her magic.

“Sit like this, close your eyes, and calmly remember the mana Kairin used. Then try to sense the energy flowing through nature.”

Karath sat cross-legged opposite her and began with an explanation of how to perceive natural mana.

“Once you sense it, concentrate upon that feeling and slowly open your eyes.”

Kairin opened her eyes almost immediately after he finished speaking.

As expected.

Because she had already used mana for years under the name of shamanism, simply recognising it was not difficult.

“Now breathe in deeply and draw the natural mana into your body. Hold your breath for a moment, then move the mana inside and circulate it along this path.”

Karath used his own body like a diagram, tracing the route the energy needed to follow with his finger.

“Haa.”

He demonstrated the breathing method himself.

Karath had spent mana reproducing Kairin’s healing ritual, so he also needed to recover.

After observing him briefly, Kairin calmly closed her eyes and began breathing deeply.

While she concentrated, Karath reconsidered the ritual he had copied.

Biological magic might be an appropriate name.

If Renstein’s magic and Kairin’s shamanism needed to be classified separately, Renstein’s system would be elemental magic.

Karath manipulated natural mana to create physical phenomena.

Kairin’s shamanism influenced living bodies and accelerated recovery.

With only a few more patterns, Karath might be able to create a wide range of biological spells.

The problem was that he possessed no information about other examples of such magic.

Without additional patterns to study, independently developing new techniques would be difficult.

Another question also emerged.

What kind of shamanic art did the tribe use during the Harvest Festival?

More importantly, what was the power used during the Prophecy Festival to glimpse the future?

Now that Karath understood magical principles, the mystery felt even greater.

The more influence a spell exerted upon the world, the greater the mana and calculations it required.

How much mana and computational complexity would be necessary to read the future of a living being?

How had shamans who could not even gather mana managed to live as long as they did while performing such an impossible ritual?

The questions multiplied, but there was no way to answer them immediately.

Now that Karath knew Kairin had been consuming her own life force, he could not ask her to cast more shamanic arts merely to satisfy his curiosity.

That would be equivalent to encouraging her suicide.

Once her mana reserves grew and the burden of using shamanism decreased, they could investigate it together.

“Haa.”

As Karath reached that conclusion, Kairin opened her eyes.

“How was it? Did you gather any mana?”

“Yes. Kairin feels much more refreshed.”

“You truly gathered it? How much?”

“Enough to use the coming-of-age ritual briefly, perhaps.”

Karath failed to conceal his shock.

When he first fell into the underground laboratory, merely sensing mana had required considerable time.

Circulating the mana drawn in through breathing had been even more difficult.

After all that effort, the amount he successfully retained had been no greater than a speck of dust.

Kairin had completed in approximately five minutes what had taken Karath at least six hours.

Was she a genius?

Karath suddenly remembered the protagonist of an animated series he had enjoyed during elementary school, a red-haired sorceress capable of casting a spell that might destroy the world.

Perhaps ten years from now, Kairin would unleash some ultimate magic and erase the continent.

The main difference was that this genius sorceress had green skin.

Then again, the more important difference was probably that Kairin was already twenty-two and could no longer be called a girl.

“Ahem. Now that Kairin has gathered mana, can she move it freely inside her body?”

“Yes. It moves wherever Kairin wants.”

“R-right.”

Was this how a teacher felt after encountering a truly gifted student?

A wave of emotion washed over Karath as his supposed disciple answered every question as though the task were effortless.

“Then do not leave the mana still. Move it toward the heart and make it rotate around this area.”

Karath traced a circle around the location of his heart.

“Shape the mana into a ring. Imagine that ring constantly revolving around the heart.”

He was explaining how to create a mana circle.

Renstein’s books presented magic through a structured system of stages.

At each level, students formed a new circle around the heart corresponding to the amount of mana required.

There was a specific reason for the method.

As mana revolved around the heart, it generated a force that attracted the mana flowing through nature.

The principle resembled a magnet producing electromagnetic attraction.

The more circles a mage formed, the faster mana could be gathered and restored.

The reason the circles surrounded the heart was equally simple.

According to Renstein’s writings, life force was also a form of mana.

The heart was the place where that force flowed most powerfully within the human body.

The explanation immediately reminded Karath of the solar system.

He imagined planets revolving in elliptical paths around the sun.

Naturally, he had no intention of explaining that comparison to Kairin.

How could he teach astronomy to someone from a near-primitive society?

Karath merely told her that forming a ring around the heart would make gathering mana easier.

“Haaa.”

After hearing his instructions, Kairin closed her eyes and manipulated the mana inside her body.

A short while later, she spoke.

“Kairin made it.”

She had formed the ring of the First Circle.

Sensing mana, gathering it through breathing, and creating a thin circle around the heart had required Karath an entire day.

Kairin completed all three steps in roughly thirty minutes.

Having another mage in the tribe was undoubtedly beneficial.

Considering the direction Karath intended to develop the settlement, additional magic users would become enormously valuable.

A talent capable of learning this quickly would remain useful for years.

Even so, Karath could not help feeling slightly wronged.

He had suffered endlessly to learn the same things she accomplished with absurd ease.

Chapter 70

The First Disciple

Kairin opened her eyes after creating the First Circle and looked at Karath with simple curiosity.

“What happens now?”

Karath remained silent for a moment.

She did not appear exhausted.

She was not gasping for breath or trembling from the effort.

She had simply followed his explanation and completed a foundational achievement in half an hour.

Karath had wanted to save her life.

He had not expected to discover a magical prodigy.

“Now Kairin must practise maintaining the circle while breathing and moving.”

“Is it difficult?”

“It was difficult for Karath.”

“Then Kairin will practise.”

Her uncomplicated response made the injustice feel even worse.

Still, resentment would not protect the tribe.

Karath pushed aside his wounded pride and focused upon the implications.

Kairin had used mana unconsciously for years through shamanic traditions passed down from one generation to the next.

Her body was already familiar with directing energy.

The true problem had never been a lack of talent.

The tribal shamans had inherited techniques without receiving any understanding of mana itself.

They knew how to activate specific patterns, but not how to restore the power those patterns consumed.

Without access to natural mana, their bodies had substituted life force.

Every ritual shortened their lives.

The rapid ageing of Aunt Garlik and Kairin had not been an unavoidable cost of shamanism.

It was the result of an incomplete system.

Karath could correct that system.

Once Kairin learned to gather mana and maintain her circle, she would no longer need to sacrifice her lifespan every time she healed a wound or performed a ceremony.

More importantly, she could teach future shamans correctly.

The entire line of Bloodclaw spiritual practitioners might be freed from the fate that had slowly killed their predecessors.

Karath had discovered magic because of the drake.

Now that same knowledge could preserve someone who had already been protecting the tribe long before he understood what mana was.

The thought eased some of the guilt he felt for ignoring Kairin’s condition.

Not all of it.

Karath still should have noticed earlier.

He had spoken repeatedly about protecting every member of the tribe.

Yet he had allowed one of them to continue dying in front of him because the problem felt inconvenient and difficult.

That failure could not be erased merely because he had finally found a solution.

He would remember it.

A leader could not focus only upon the danger that made the loudest noise.

The drake had shattered trees and breathed fire, making it impossible to ignore.

Kairin’s life had faded silently, one ritual at a time.

Silent dangers could be just as deadly.

“Kairin.”

“Yes?”

“From today onward, do not perform any shamanic art using only your own strength.”

“But ceremonies still need to be held.”

“Then gather mana first. If there is not enough, call Karath. The ritual can wait until the two of us are prepared.”

Kairin considered the instruction.

“What if someone is badly injured?”

“Then use what is necessary to save them. But afterward, tell Karath exactly how much energy was consumed.”

“All right.”

Her answer came easily.

Karath wondered whether she fully understood that he was attempting to stop her from sacrificing her own life.

Perhaps she did.

Kairin had grown up believing that shortening her life for the tribe was part of a shaman’s duty.

Even if she understood the danger, she might not consider it something worth avoiding.

Karath would need to change that way of thinking as well.

Sacrifice could not remain the tribe’s first answer to every crisis.

Garthon had died killing an ogre.

Karath had nearly died luring away the drake, then almost destroyed his own body killing it.

Kairin had steadily burned away her lifespan with every ritual.

The Bloodclaw Tribe praised such acts as honourable.

Karath no longer believed honour alone was enough.

Protecting the tribe should not always require someone to disappear from it.

The purpose of knowledge, preparation, and progress was to create victories in which everyone returned alive.

“Karath will teach Kairin everything he knows about mana.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Breathing, circles, control, and the magic recorded by the ancestors.”

Kairin’s eyes brightened.

“Then Kairin will teach Karath every shamanic art she knows.”

Karath paused.

That offer was more valuable than she realised.

The tribe’s shamanic techniques represented an entirely different magical system.

Renstein’s books focused upon manipulating external mana and reproducing natural phenomena.

Kairin possessed patterns capable of influencing living bodies.

Combining both traditions could open possibilities neither system offered alone.

Healing was only the beginning.

If Karath learned how mana interacted with flesh, blood, nerves, and organs, he might eventually create methods for strengthening warriors, treating disease, preventing infection, or accelerating recovery from injuries.

He might even discover how the prophecy ritual functioned.

There were dangers in such research.

Manipulating a living body carelessly could cause damage far worse than an ordinary failed spell.

Karath would need to proceed slowly and test every theory with extreme caution.

Still, the possibilities were too important to ignore.

“Good. Then we will teach each other.”

“Kairin thought Karath was becoming her teacher.”

“You are still Karath’s disciple when it comes to mana.”

“Then Karath is Kairin’s disciple when it comes to shamanism.”

“That is different.”

“Why?”

Karath had no convincing answer.

Kairin smiled as though she had won.

The expression made her gaunt face look younger for the first time since Karath entered the house.

He silently promised that she would not continue ageing at the same terrifying rate.

Kairin had already spent too much of her life protecting the tribe through an incomplete method.

From this day onward, she would learn to draw power from the world instead of consuming herself.

Karath shifted closer and continued the lesson.

He taught her how to stabilise the ring around her heart.

A newly created mana circle could disperse if the user lost concentration before the movement became natural.

Kairin needed to maintain the rotation while breathing, standing, walking, and eventually sleeping.

Once the circle became stable, it would continuously draw small amounts of mana from the environment.

Karath demonstrated how to circulate mana through the limbs without breaking the ring.

Kairin followed.

Her first attempt was clumsy.

The ring around her heart wavered when she tried to send mana toward her hand.

Karath finally felt a small amount of relief.

At least she was capable of struggling with something.

“Do not force the circle and the moving mana to act as one structure,” Karath explained. “Keep the ring rotating while drawing only a small thread away from it.”

Kairin tried again.

The second attempt was noticeably smoother.

Karath’s relief vanished.

Her talent was offensive.

Within a short period, she could move mana into her fingertips while maintaining the circle around her heart.

“Like this?”

“Yes.”

“What should Kairin do with it?”

“For now, nothing. Return it to the circle.”

She guided the mana back without difficulty.

Karath considered teaching her Fire.

Then he rejected the idea.

The First Circle elemental spell was simple, but Kairin had only just created her circle.

She needed time to stabilise it before consuming mana through repeated casting.

More importantly, elemental magic was not the most urgent lesson.

Karath wanted her to reproduce her healing ritual using natural mana rather than life force.

If she succeeded, they would confirm that her body could replace the dangerous traditional method immediately.

“Remember the pattern used during Kuzan’s ceremony.”

“Kairin remembers it.”

“Good. Gather the mana inside the circle and prepare the pattern, but do not activate it yet.”

Kairin closed her eyes.

Karath watched carefully with his mana senses.

The ring around her heart continued rotating.

A small portion of energy separated from it and travelled upward.

The mana began forming the same biological pattern Karath had memorised earlier.

It was slightly unstable, but unmistakably correct.

“Stop.”

Kairin released the pattern before completing the ritual.

The mana returned to her circle.

“How did it feel?” Karath asked.

“Easier.”

“Easier than before?”

“Yes. Before, using the ritual always felt as though something was being pulled out from deep inside Kairin. This time, the mana moved without that feeling.”

That confirmed it.

The traditional shamanic art had been drawing directly upon her life force.

Using accumulated mana prevented the same damage.

Karath had not merely gained a disciple.

He had found a way to save every future shaman of the Bloodclaw Tribe.

The knowledge would also create a new branch of magic within the settlement.

Kairin possessed the inherited patterns.

Karath possessed the theoretical framework required to analyse and modify them.

Together, they could transform a collection of dangerous rituals into a complete magical discipline.

Karath looked at the first circle revolving around Kairin’s heart.

It was thin and fragile.

Yet to him, it appeared as important as the stone wall, the well, the traps, and the discovery of magic itself.

The Bloodclaw Tribe now had two mages.

One had learned elemental magic from the writings of a human scholar.

The other had inherited the biological magic of generations of orc shamans.

The future of the tribe had quietly changed inside a small earthen house.

Karath could not entirely suppress the resentment that his first disciple had completed in thirty minutes what had required him an entire day.

However, he could tolerate a little unfairness.

After all, a teacher should be proud when a disciple surpassed expectations.

Even when that disciple’s talent was unbearably irritating.