The Unbreakable Mana
Al Ross raced across the snowfield, kicking up small blizzards with his churning legs.
"What is it?!"
Jukaken called from behind. He was chasing after him without knowing the reason.
Al Ross answered.
"The spot where Deculein died was suspicious. More precisely, the location where his mana lingered."
Deculein's mana was special. Those who had reached a certain realm all shared this trait to some extent, but Deculein stood out as particularly unique.
Literally unique—one of a kind.
Deculein's mana mirrored its owner: it never vanished, never shattered. It lingered in place for ages, awaiting only its true master.
"He's drawing a magic circuit with his own corpse."
Al Ross said. Jukaken furrowed his brow.
"With his corpse?"
"Indeed. And Gerek is cooperating with him on it."
"...What nonsense. Gerek, with Deculein?"
Al Ross nodded. Deculein had likely contacted Gerek long ago, demanding cooperation.
"The one who first found the revived Deculein and passed on the magic theory. The one who told him what to do next. It was all Gerek."
Gerek of superhuman senses.
A monster unmatched on the continent, not just in the five senses—sight, hearing, smell—but in motor skills, cognition, and perception.
Someone like that could easily fool even Sylvia's eyes.
"Still—"
Jukaken started to say there was no way that madman would collaborate with Deculein, but he trailed off, lost in thought.
What if the price Deculein offered was "the right to kill him endlessly"?
Jukaken muttered.
"...Was Idnik wrong?"
"No. It's something else. The magic theory Idnik read and the one I read are different."
The theory Idnik deciphered went up to the "seventh" Deculein.
But the theory left for Al Ross was the product of the "eighth" Deculein, who appeared out of nowhere just before being slain infinitely by Gerek, undergoing one final revision.
"Anyway, follow me. Let's go see what that professor is up to right now..."
The two ran on. The trampled snowfield spread like mist, and with a soft pasasas—snow-laden trees shook, shedding white powder.
And then...
Sagrak, sagrak. A single trail of wind etched into the pristine white world.
A magical current moving as if pursuing them.
Thud—thud—
In pitch darkness. The unusually resounding echo of boot heels.
No light source whatsoever, no convection, stagnant air. A place beyond the reach of Sylvia's or the Voice's gaze.
I walked its depths.
Searching for the right spot.
Thud—thud—
I do not know when this plan was conceived.
I simply received the "transmission" from Gerek the moment I awoke as myself, and accepted it willingly. Fully embraced it.
Thud—thud—
This existence called "I" is false, yet through my deaths, something can be achieved. The most ideal goal can be attained.
I can kill the demon.
That is satisfaction enough.
Bearable enough.
Thud—thud—
Suddenly, footsteps overlapping mine.
"Deculein."
A voice calling my name.
Soon, a figure blocking my path.
An artistic human illuminating this space.
"It's Al Ross. Long time no see?"
Al Ross said with a faint smile. Strangely, he seemed glad to see me, though I did not yet know why.
"It's really him!"
The man beside her, pointing at me with wide eyes, was Jukaken.
"..."
I regarded them silently.
Al Ross let out a small sigh. She took a step closer and asked,
"Professor, have you been killing yourself all this time?"
Her voice held pity, almost mournful, but to me, it was a trivial question.
"Indeed."
I nodded. Al Ross frowned. An artistic expression.
"Why?"
Art inquired. I answered simply.
"I merely discovered the method."
One of magic's great principles: mana resembles its caster.
The uniqueness embedded in my mana is "mental fortitude."
Thus, it never falters, never breaks. The force linking mana to mana is stronger and more steadfast than any other.
"...What method?"
"The method to save that child."
For this current "me" was born of Sylvia's and the Voice's power, but the more perfectly I become myself, the more I realize and seize myself fully.
No one in this world can imitate me.
"..."
Al Ross fell silent. Jukaken scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
Time passed in that gentle quiet. Wind seeped into the windless space.
"...Are you sure?"
Al Ross asked curtly. There was a trace of sympathy in her voice.
"This magic circle still has many circuits to fill. Hundreds... perhaps thousands of times."
How many "I"s was this? How many deaths had I chosen? I did not know.
How many more deaths the next "I" would choose, how many repetitions it would take—I did not know.
I could not know.
...Yet.
"No matter. I have no choice but to choose it."
"..."
Al Ross swallowed. She gazed at me with lips pressed tight, her eyes moist like a lake.
"Even if it means dying thousands of times, if it saves one person."
I looked into my heart.
The Voice's destruction. The death of this existence called "I."
Above all, pity for Sylvia.
"...I have no choice."
That was my conclusion.
At the very least, I could not let Sylvia die.
"Why."
Then, an approaching voice.
Al Ross and Jukaken startled and turned. From the underground darkness emerged a child.
No—a woman who had grown without my knowledge.
"...Why."
Sylvia.
Dark underground. A long passage. Part of the magic circle.
Within it, Sylvia gazed at Deculein. Deculein met her eyes.
"...Why."
Sylvia could not understand.
Why.
Why.
Why.
Why couldn't they just live together here? Why was he sacrificing himself to destroy the Voice?
"We could live together here."
"..."
Deculein said nothing. It frustrated her. Sylvia rushed to him and seized his collar.
"Together..."
"Sylvia."
Then, he called her name.
He looked down at her, murmuring softly as if recalling the past.
"You remind me of the child you once were."
Not Kim Woojin's memory, but Deculein's.
Faint and faded scenery, yet in Deculein's distant recollections, there was clearly a child named Sylvia.
"The child clutching Cielia's hand. Hiding behind her back, afraid of me, avoiding my eyes."
"..."
"That tiny child has grown so, now looking upon me."
In that moment, Sylvia felt her breath catch.
She realized too late.
This Deculein had not shared time with her.
While the Voice's time flowed endlessly, he had only repeated death.
"Back then, perhaps I envied you a little."
The emotions the original Deculein felt seeing young Sylvia.
Realizing that small child matched his own skill, her talent vast beyond comparison—frustration and envy in that instant.
"And regretted it, perhaps."
Sylvia looked up at Deculein.
"Sylvia. Not all my choices were right."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, looking down.
It was warm. She glanced sideways shyly.
"Even if you come to hate me for killing Cielia, I should have kept you by my side to hate me."
"..."
"I should have taken you as my disciple then."
Once, Sylvia had wanted to be Deculein's disciple.
Like Ifrin now.
"Then I could have taught you more. Kept you from being swayed by the Ilaydes."
But Deculein had refused.
It was not solely for Sylvia's sake.
Deculein's character flaw. The jealousy and envy clinging to the bottom of his heart had rejected her to some degree.
"That old matter as well."
Deculein continued softly.
"I should have refused Gilteon's request to kill Cielia."
Sylvia's body trembled. She pressed her face to Deculein's hem.
Gilteon's instigation to kill Cielia.
She had vaguely suspected, but it saddened her.
"However, Sylvia. Regret is a useless emotion. No matter what I regret now, my choices will not change, and living in regret is akin to dying. As you are now."
"..."
"Sylvia. Do not run away."
Sylvia nodded. She stepped back from Deculein.
Clasping her hands to her chest, she gazed at him prayerfully and spoke one word.
"I love you."
Sylvia knew Deculein.
"I love you so much it hurts every time I see you. I wish we could be together forever."
She knew the one who killed Cielia.
"But it can't be. It hurts too much."
She knew the one who sought hatred from her for her own sake.
"...Paradise for me."
She knew the one who protected her from Gilteon, from the intelligence agency.
"Was you."
Now she truly understood.
"...But no paradise is purely happy."
Sylvia said with a faint smile. A smile like tears.
Deculein nodded and replied.
"I am still beyond the sea."
"Yes. I know."
Sylvia answered.
The two gazed at each other a little longer...
"..."
"..."
Al Ross and Jukaken watched from a short distance away. They dared not intervene.
Then, a long strand of hair drifted down from the ceiling. Jukaken and Al Ross startled, then frowned and yanked it.
"Oof!"
Gerek tumbled down. Jukaken whispered,
—Where were you?
"Right here underground. How did you even find me~?"
—...But did you really cooperate with Deculein?
Gerek grinned. Brushing back his long hair, he said,
"Cooperate? I killed him."
—Then why aren't you killing him now?
"Not feeling it. Nah, I've killed him like eight hundred times? Got bored around then, so I asked how many more."
Al Ross listened quietly to Gerek.
"He said at least a thousand left. Something about tweaks needed for the circle... So, whatever."
Gerek shrugged.
"Now it's just duty. Taking turns with my family. Kinda in a rut~"
Thirty times each among our family? Gerek boasted proudly, chuckling heartily.
"...So, you'll kill the real Deculein when he comes?"
Al Ross asked. Hostility laced her voice.
Gerek twisted his lips wide.
"Of course~ The real one won't remember dying anyway. That's cheating. Gotta kill him proper."
"..."
Al Ross's face hardened as she looked away.
Sylvia and Deculein.
Things seemed to be resolving between them, but without the real Deculein arriving, it was all for naught.
The magic circle's fuel was Deculein's mental fortitude, a power no one but its owner could wield.
"...Oh~ It's Idnik. Hey Al Ross, wrong person's coming."
Then Jukaken pointed mockingly behind. Sure enough, Idnik approached in a hooded robe.
"Heeey~ Iiidniiiik~"
Jukaken grinned, demanding a high-five, but Idnik just shook her head silently.
"What? You were wrong. Hate admitting it? Deculein was gonna kill Sylvia, right?"
"..."
Idnik pressed her lips tight. Al Ross said to her,
"Idnik. Check what I organized in the guild room. It'll be different."
"I know. I did. I was only half wrong."
"...Half?"
"Yes."
Idnik sighed softly.
"According to his theory, Sylvia doesn't die. That's correct."
Using Deculein's inherent mana—his mental fortitude—instead of Sylvia's.
Indeed, no need to kill Sylvia.
"However, it does not mean her sacrifice is unnecessary. And this Deculein now..."
Sylvia looking up at Deculein, Deculein looking down at Sylvia.
Watching them, Idnik continued softly.
"...We'll talk details later. Good is good, as they say. I'm a desert mage, after all."
She chuckled and shook her head.
"...What're you on about?"
"Yeah. Al Ross, losing to you must've been a mental shock..."
Al Ross and Jukaken stared at her in disbelief.