Rotten of the Extreme Point
The next day dawned.
“Hngh. This is bad, seriously. If my sister decides to do something, she always sees it through… and if she’s burning up that much… hngh…”
After the meal, I patted the half-sulking Yeriel on the head and sent her off to the knight order. Then I spoke with Rotten.
“Good. You didn’t forget. I was planning to bring it up myself anyway. Heh, looks like I was a step late.”
Starting today, I would learn the technique.
“Then let’s head to the backyard.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah, right. Lumia, I’m sorry. You can’t come into the backyard today. Bear with it for a little while.”
“I can study my spellbook in the room, so it’s fine. …And you don’t have to talk to me like you’re soothing a child.”
Lumia turned her head, saying she appreciated the thought but wasn’t a baby. Yet the ears atop her head twitched up and down, betraying her pleased mood despite her words and actions. Rotten watched her with a warm smile.
“Very well, I understand. It’ll take a while, so if you get hungry, head to the kitchen. Now then, let’s be off.”
We opened the back door and stepped into the center of the wide backyard. I’d caught a glimpse of it while passing the storage shed last time I received the spatial bag. It really was spacious. How could an inn in the 4th District maintain itself without guests on such a large plot? He must have retired from labyrinth diving, yet he still lived comfortably. Was this the privilege of a high-floor adventurer?
As I glanced around, Rotten spoke in a serious tone.
“In my prime, other adventurers called me by a title: the Extreme Point.”
The Extreme Point? The point that reached the extreme? The pinnacle of a point? In this context, “point” only made me think of thrusting.
“Ahem. ‘Rotten of the Extreme Point.’ That was the name I proved as an adventurer in this city, in the Great Labyrinth.”
Rotten chuckled after saying that.
“Of course… now I’m nothing more than a forgotten old man in the back room who can no longer reach the deeper layers.”
Was he truly forgotten? I couldn’t say.
“In my youth, I would grab any weapon that could thrust and drive it forward.”
He grinned as he showed me the staff he’d brought as a weapon substitute. In that clear smile of an old man, I could see a fragment of his vigorous younger days.
“It might sound a bit chilling, but back then I used to feel a small thrill at the thought of taking a life in a single blow.”
‘Huh… Rotten isn’t normal either. Maybe all high-level adventurers have a few screws loose in their heads?’
Rotten looked at me with sharp eyes that belied his age.
“One Point Concentration. I’ll pass on to you one of the roots that made me who I am today.”
“One Point… Concentration, sir?”
The name alone made it sound like an offensive technique.
“That’s right. It’s a technique that condenses an attack filled with mana to the very tip without waste and drives it into a single point. Hup!”
One Point Concentration
He slowly raised the staff, pointed the tip forward, and thrust it into the air. The sound was no joke. The destructive power must be enormous as well.
“It’ll be difficult to use right away, but if you manage to land it properly on an enemy, I can confidently say it boasts tremendous advantages in penetration and internal damage.”
“Ooh!”
“Instead, while you’re learning, you must follow my instructions exactly. Don’t think you can get something for nothing just because an opportunity came easily.”
Of course not. Letting an opportunity to learn a technique for free slip by would be no different from admitting I was an idiot.
“I’ll keep that in mind and focus.”
“Good. Then let’s begin.”
I gripped the Barak I had taken out beforehand. What should I do first?
“First, you need to perceive and control the flow, so close your eyes and feel the mana throughout your body.”
…I could feel it. The energy spreading without a single gap from my powerfully beating heart. The mana permeating the blood racing through every blood vessel in my body. I nodded slightly.
“Good, you’re quick. Now, try operating it while thinking of gathering that mana into your sword.”
Gather it into the sword. Like the first step of the Explosive Sword Technique, infusing mana into a weapon to strengthen it?
‘Let’s try. Slowly. Calmly.’
The mana gradually extended through my right arm. I moved it slowly along the hilt I was gripping.
Hum.
“Good. You’re doing well.”
But how much should I gather? I had no concept of a mana limit. Since I hadn’t heard any instruction to stop, I kept pushing more mana in when suddenly my mind grew hazy.
‘…Why all of a sudden?’
Uh-oh.
Chaos urgently tells you to snap out of it.
“That’s enough. You can stop now. …Aren? Oh dear. The flow is starting to intensify.”
Hum—!
“Hmm, if I touch it carelessly, it’ll reflux from the inside. If I touch the sword, the gathered mana will explode. In that case…”
…
“—Snap out of it!”
“Hah!”
Rotten’s shout, filled with power, struck my ears.
‘What? I was clearly focusing on gathering mana as Rotten instructed…’
Rattle, rattle.
Hum—
The Barak I gripped tightly was vibrating on its own, emitting a resonant sound. This… this didn’t look good. Should I send it to the pocket dimension?
“At this rate, the weapon won’t hold and at least one arm will be blown off. Look at me!”
When I looked at Rotten, he extended his arm and made a thrusting motion like before.
“Think of pouring all the mana you’ve gathered into the tip of the sword at once and thrust it toward me. Right now!”
Grabbing my dazed head with my left hand, I looked at the sword and thought.
‘Yeah, let’s deal with this first. Damn it. It’s really going to explode at this rate!’
Imagining expelling all the gathered mana through the tip of the sword, I thrust it into the air.
“Ugh, hah!”
BOOM—!
…I’d done it. That just now wasn’t One Point Concentration or anything. It was simply blasting out all the mana I’d stupidly gathered at once. From the recoil, the blade of Barak cracked with a creaking sound, shattered into pieces, and broke apart. The mana I’d shot toward Rotten left the area ahead shrouded in smoke.
‘This is a total mess. The sword will recover soon anyway, and there’s no way a former high-floor adventurer would get hurt from something like this, right?’
Whoosh!
A strong wind suddenly blew away the smoke, and Rotten walked out from within it.
As expected. Not a single scratch or trace remained on his body.
“Good grief. Are you some kind of mixed-blood from another race? Or did you make a name for yourself outside the city? How does a newbie who just entered the labyrinth have this much mana…”
“That…”
Rotten clicked his tongue with his hands behind his back. Was he angry? It hadn’t even been long since we started training, and this happened—of course he wouldn’t be in a good mood.
‘Damn it. I was clearly focusing, so why did things get so twisted?’
“It’s fine. In this world, there are few people without a story, and not just adventurers—most people have one or two secrets they keep tightly hidden.”
Rotten chuckled, saying he had plenty of secrets himself. At least he wasn’t upset. That was a relief.
“Looks like I’ll have to adjust the direction I was planning to teach you.”
With those words, he continued explaining.
“What just happened to you is a phenomenon that rarely occurs in those born with enormous mana.”
Oh.
“It’s called Arcane Ebrius. In simple terms, people say you get drunk on mana.”
“Drunk… on mana?”
Not from atmosphere, alcohol, or drugs, but from the power circulating inside your own body? I’d thought of something like a trance, but at my level, that kind of grand thing was out of the question. It was a stupid thought.
“That’s right. It’s a rare abnormal phenomenon that occurs when you pour an enormous amount of mana beyond what you can handle all at once.”
He shrugged.
“Most adventurers never experience it in their lifetime, so in a way, it’s no different from a blessing.”
Rather than having a large total amount of mana, mine was constantly generated from the core, so it would be more accurate to say it never ran dry. Rotten stroked his chin slowly with one hand behind his back. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke as if he’d decided.
“Good. Before teaching you the technique, we’ll have to repeatedly squeeze out mana until you get used to your usage limit and gradually increase it.”
‘Ah… haa. I have to do it. Seo Do-jin, you idiot, stop sighing and focus. Who knows what’ll happen on the next labyrinth run?’
Passing out from a headache after dropping lightning at max power, losing consciousness for a moment after continuously gathering mana in a sword. It was obvious I’d be using even greater traits and techniques than now later on—would I keep collapsing like this every time? If the mana resource never ran out, that was one thing. But the one using it still had a long way to go to get stronger. When an opportunity came, I had to do everything I could.
Rotten, who had at some point restored Barak to pristine condition, spoke while looking at it.
“Now, grip the sword again!”
Hum—
“After thinking it over, I’ve decided it would be better for you to learn this not as a technique you use like eating meals, the way I do, but as a hidden trump card.”
“Kugh.”
BOOM!
“The only times you can rest are when the sword is recovering and when your mana runs out and you can’t continue anymore!”
BOOM!!
Damn it. He was telling me not to rest.
“Keep squeezing out mana until you can’t let go of the sword. To the maximum, beyond your limits!”
BOOM!!!
“Ugh…”
The motion sent shockwaves strong enough to make the blade crumble. My right hand tingled. The sensation in my fingers was gradually disappearing. But even so, I wouldn’t let go of the sword.
‘I’m definitely going to create at least one finishing move. Whether against people or monsters, a lifeline that will one day save my life!’
Chaos spreads both arms and cheers you on.
Don’t rely on luck. Fortune is not on my side. Believe only in the blood and sweat I shed. I gritted my teeth as I watched Barak keep exploding.
***
I had no idea how the day had passed. I just spent the entire day operating mana, thrusting the sword into the air, resting briefly while watching the broken sword, then eating a simple meal when my strength ran out and repeating the cycle.
I still had a long way to go. I hoped I could master it before the next labyrinth entrance opened.
Lumia, who had come out of her room, had looked at me with pity. Yeriel, who arrived near evening, looked just as exhausted as I did. The moment she reached the inn, she shot me a slight glare, but even that was cute. When I saw that and laughed, Yeriel eventually laughed too and her sulking melted away.
“Now the only things left are the Bloodied Edge I got from killing Gaspel and the Spirit Contract trait I absorbed from Isaac.”
Hmm. It was a dagger, so registering it right away to use myself felt awkward. If I was going to sell it, I’d need to look into it properly, so I’d leave it for now. It wasn’t like it was going to disappear somewhere.
That left the Spirit Contract.
“What do I need to do to form a contract with a spirit? Since the trait says a contract is possible, I probably don’t need anything else, right?”
Chaos advises you to strongly will it while looking at the trait window.
Okay. Received.
Whisper of the Wind [P]
A trait absorbed from User Kang Isaac, adventurer Isaac. Because the causality of the Wind God Nefer does not apply to the recipient, the wind is weaker than before.
— Agility increases by two stages.
— Wind imbues all movements, granting a minor speed correction.
— Contract with a lesser wind spirit is possible. Upon successful contract, the spirit grows according to the user’s level.
‘I wish to form a contract with a lesser wind spirit!’
I kept staring intently at the final line of the trait. Maybe I needed to think more intensely?
That was when it happened.
Zip.
Huh?
A portal about the size of my palm opened in the air.
‘It probably isn’t related to the labyrinth. Is the spirit I’m supposed to contract coming out from there?’
Since the portal appeared near my eye level, I waited for the spirit to emerge and absentmindedly peered inside.
Chaos Eye reacts.
You gaze upon a fragment of the spirit realm invisible to humans.
You enter the spirit realm in spiritual form.
What?
—Thud.