Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Dungeon (1)
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Northern chill pierced by scorching fervor, the smell of war.
Clop-clop—clop-clop—clop-clop—
Couriers raced out in all directions, announcing the expedition.
Red-hot molten iron poured endlessly from the forges' furnaces.
The expedition marched out the castle gates amid the people's fervent cheers.
At the vanguard rode the knights of House Meursault.
Their armor and helms gleamed in the sunlight, cloaks billowing grandly on their shoulders in the wind.
Behind them marched the high-spirited soldiers in tight formation.
Boots thundered against the ground, weapons clashing noisily.
Early winter.
The orc subjugation had finally begun.
Toooooot…… tooooooot…… tooooooot……
Mighty conch horns blared across the land.
The vast crowd gathered in the plaza before the gates showered the expedition with flower petals and cheers.
Vivid red petals bloomed through the frost, scattering across the sky.
Sunlight sparkled off armor and weapons visible amid the petals.
Stern resolve etched the faces of the departing soldiers.
What they fought to protect were the citizens filling these streets—and their families.
The hot cheers echoing behind them now would become their strongest weapon.
The power to slay monsters, the resolve to guard their families.
Blood and sweat, glory and honor, iron and cheers.
And survival.
The hearts of these burdened warriors beat as one.
Clop-clop—clop-clop—clop-clop—clop-clop—
The thunderous hoofbeats faded into the distance.
Passing the plaza's crowds, kicking up clouds of dust along the road, the expedition advanced toward the blue northern mountains.
Leading them were the patriarch of House Meursault, Soleil, and his eldest daughter, Cardina.
“……”
Federback, tasked with wartime logistics and supply, remained at the mansion.
He longed to join his father and sister on the battlefield, but the time was not yet right.
Instead, I will fulfill the role of the one left behind.
Federback thought.
The now-empty stronghold of House Meursault.
In that silence, Federback moved differently.
Kuuuoooooo……
A cold yet hot storm raged through the room.
Crack—fwoooosh!
One wall froze over with blue frost; the other erupted in crimson flames that scorched the wallpaper.
Federback hovered at the center of that bizarre tempest.
Eyes closed, he focused entirely on his mana circulation training.
Tzzzzz……
Cold and hot energies swirled rapidly through his veins.
Waste matter pushed out by the flow burned away, billowing thick black smoke from every pore.
Bubble-bubble-bubble-bubble-bubble-bubble-bubble!
Federback's heart pounded like a miniature furnace.
From there, molten iron boiled over, flooding his veins and incinerating the waste.
This boiling molten iron was what the world called mana.
The mysterious power forming the foundation of this epic world.
The fearsome source of all supernatural might, the origin of every mystical being.
Yet mana was profoundly capricious.
It clung to those who suited its taste, granting immense power even against their will—but ignored others forever, no matter their longing.
Over ages, humans studied mana's nature and finally discovered how to control it.
Inheriting the blood of the mana-chosen and emulating their cultivation methods.
That was the only way to accumulate mana within the body.
And from this arose the system of "Mana Circles."
Composed of seven tiers...
...The 1st Circle: Those who can see and hear mana.
...The 2nd Circle: Those who can feel mana as tactile sensation.
...The 3rd Circle: Those who can gasify accumulated mana.
...The 4th Circle: Those who can liquify accumulated mana.
...The 5th Circle: Those who can solidify accumulated mana.
...The 6th Circle: Those who can shape mana as imagined.
...The 7th Circle: Those who twist the world's causality through mana.
Before his regression, in his wastrel days, Federback had lingered at the 1st Circle.
Normally, it would take over five more years just to reach the 2nd.
But Federback now was different.
Today. Right now, I break into the 2nd Circle realm.
His entire body burned even hotter.
The Mana Core in his dantian pulsed vigorously.
A bright, intense sun at the center of his body's universe.
It drew in surrounding mana while radiating hot, brilliant energy.
House Meursault had produced powerful mana users for generations—a renowned knightly house.
Thus, Federback was born with exceptional mana affinity.
Every cell in his body refined and attuned to mana.
Crack-crack—crunch-crunch-crunch—
The Mana Core endlessly ruptured and regenerated.
Quantitative expansion.
Pain unbearable for ordinary folk accompanied it, but pain was fuel for growth.
The agony widened the space, filling it brimful with boiling mana.
An extreme method that would make typical mana cultivators cry madman.
Yet Federback pressed on without hesitation.
I see it.
A realm others needed fifteen—no, twenty years of training to attain, he sought in a single day.
Skipping all needless steps, heading straight for awakening.
Worth killing those orcs and bathing in their blood.
His body, chilled atop the snowy peaks, now bubbled over once more.
The sensation of slaughtering orcs pulled him back to his past life decades ago.
Tzzzzz……
Mana, now spreading like roots, burned away impurities clogging his veins.
First, it surged down his left leg, sweeping it in fiery blaze.
His leg convulsed.
Skin charred black, flesh sloughed off, white bone exposed.
“……”
Harrowing to witness alone, yet Federback uttered no scream.
But the pain was fleeting—immense liberation followed.
His entire left leg felt feathery light.
All waste incinerated from within.
The mana that purified the left now shifted to the right.
Hot flames devoured skin and melted muscle.
Soon, the right leg lightened too.
A mere tap of his toe felt like it would launch him skyward.
Gurgle—
Having scorched even his marrow, the mana now ascended.
As if delighting in exploring his body, mana raced ever faster.
Hot molten iron dashed along his veins.
Each pass burned flesh and sprouted new.
Sweeping every limb, mana now converged on his heart.
Excruciating agony.
Yet Federback's expression never wavered.
Pain is fleeting, but power eternal.
Pain was all too familiar to him.
Before regression, his body had been shredded by relentless torment.
……Kalchim Gorge, Third Great War.
Ambush by the Demon King's 7th Legion Commander—full-body burns and left-eye blindness. That one stung proper.
……Northern Front, Final Fortress Siege.
Battle with a full platoon of giant spec-ops—286 piercing wounds everywhere but the head. Thought I was done for.
……Demon King's Domain, Undead Tower Siege.
One-on-one with an elite Death Knight—twenty-five consecutive slashes to the heart. Hate recalling it. Even after surviving, couldn't believe I was alive for a month.
Federback touched his throat.
Awakened Meursault blood granted freakish recovery.
Any wound healed easily, so long as his head stayed attached.
This was the unique monstrous strength of the Meursault lineage, blooming with the Demon King's revival.
At last, he continued incinerating his body's impurities.
Crackle-tzzzz!
Then, a strange throb echoed from deep in his heart.
…Thump!
It grew with hot fervor.
…Thump! …Thump!
Federback sensed the omen of awakening.
…Thump! …Thump! …Thump!
The ember glowing red amid ashes surged into a fierce inferno.
Flaaash!
Who was it that said?
'Let there be light.'
Light birthed from darkness, and the world bloomed wide.
Done.
Federback knew instinctively.
The most perilous phase was past.
Only stabilization remained.
Tzzzzz……
His body slowly descended to the floor.
At last, Federback opened his eyes.
A gaze utterly transformed.
He now wielded power worthy of a 2nd Circle knight.
A realm reached past life only after twenty-five—now first-stepped at a mere fifteen.
Yet even this staggering feat left Federback unmoved.
“……Just barely met the minimum conditions, then.”
Only now prepared for the next stage—nothing more.
It was a pitch-black night.
Only the wind's howls came from outside.
The castle was deathly still.
With all soldiers on expedition, only women, children, and elders remained within.
Thus, the patriarch's office lay wrapped in silence.
Creeeak……
The quiet office door eased open.
Rustle—
A figure somewhat larger than a rat crept stealthily toward the desk.
Yuda, Meursault's administrator.
Anxiety and worry filled his face.
“Where is it? It should be around here……”
Yuda began ransacking the office top to bottom.
Desk, bookshelves—even behind wall paintings—he checked meticulously, but his quarry was nowhere.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead from the empty search.
“No, I must find it…… Without that……”
Lately, the family atmosphere had grown increasingly off-kilter, heightening his unease.
The expedition he'd fiercely opposed had gone ahead anyway.
Some in the family, seeing him overruled by the patriarch, abandoned him.
Just as they'd chosen him before, they swiftly switched allegiance as the tide turned.
Thus, Yuda resolved to enact his long-brewed plan.
Betray House Meursault and defect to another house.
But he needed one crucial item for that……
Yuda scoured the room obsessively but found nothing.
Damn it, where the hell is it!
He pressed his trembling forehead.
The seal. Just find the seal. Stamp my double ledgers with it, and……
The seal symbolizing the patriarch's authority.
Yet no seal anywhere.
The drawer meant for it stood empty, stirring only dust.
Patriarch wouldn't take it to war. Hidden elsewhere? Why suddenly? Suspects my plan? Or…… left it with that brat Federback? Madness to entrust a foolhardy kid?
Yuda searched desk and shelves again.
From the ash-piled fireplace to under the wolf-pelt rug—meticulous, but…… no trace of the seal.
Then. Yuda felt a chilling gaze.
His heart plummeted.
Trembling with fear, he turned—to see red eyes glowing beyond the window's darkness.
“Gasp!?”
His heart sank once more.
But.
Caw—
The gaze's source was merely a crow.
“Ugh, scared me. Damn crow!”
As Yuda shook his fist, the crow finally flew off.
But his unease lingered.
“Just my imagination? Feels creepy still……”
He peered out the window again.
But beyond lay only deepening silence.
Sweating coldly, deeming it mere worry, Yuda left the office.
Need to check elsewhere…… places the patriarch might hide the seal……
A distance no ordinary eyes could reach.
Federback gazed at the patriarch's office window from his own room's.
Hundreds of meters away appeared close as arm's reach.
Infusing mana into his eyes made it simple.
Yuda, the family traitor. Sneaking into the office during the expedition to hunt the seal?
Most unfortunate for him.
For the Meursault seal was already in Federback's hands.
Patriarch Soleil had handed it over just before departing.
A bold decision.
Father anticipated Yuda's betrayal to some degree.
Truth be told, Federback paid it little mind.
One hunting dragons spares no glance for crawling lizards.
It'll resolve itself naturally as I focus on my path.
Federback left his room, heading to the mansion's rear—the stronghold's remotest corner.
The cliff backing the mansion.
A training cave lay there.
Long sealed for unstable ground, deemed hazardous—but Federback headed there deliberately.
Because……
A treasure would be found there—in fifteen years' time.
There slept the key to awakening the Meursault clan's unique "Iron Blood."
The Dungeon.
An ancient one undiscovered for centuries.
Federback intended to conquer it.