66. Will and Heart
I sat cross-legged, focusing my mind. My breathing stayed steady and rhythmic, broken into precise counts. I brushed away every stray thought that bubbled up, pouring all my attention into sensing the mana within my body.
As time passed, my heart started thumping loudly in my ears. My muscles trembled beyond my control. But no matter how long I waited, I felt nothing—no mana, no bullshit like that. What the hell was it supposed to feel like anyway?
“Fuck.”
I spat the curse and shot to my feet. This damn meditation just piled on the stress every single time.
It had been a full week since Elenoir started teaching me about mana resonance, and I'd been grinding at it with everything I had. But the results? Zilch. Not even a hint of sensing mana—instead, I was just racking up daily stress points.
Maybe the elves' innate mana affinity made their training methods a poor fit for me. Or hell, maybe meditation itself was just never gonna work for a guy like me.
The whole "sit still and ramp up your focus" thing was the first hurdle. How the fuck was anyone supposed to stay motionless and zero in on their mind like that? And what exactly was I even supposed to focus on? Elenoir told me to tune into the mana flowing through my body, but how do you focus on something you can't even feel?
Besides, focus has never been my strong suit. I was a jobless shut-in clicking through community memes and short-form vids in my room—what kind of concentration practice had I ever done? The only time I could really lock in was during a fight, when my blood started boiling on its own.
Unless I pushed my body to the brink where I couldn't think about anything else, stray thoughts just kept flooding in. Maybe I needed to go full waterfall training? Standing under an ice-cold torrent might wash away the distractions. Could even build up some cold resistance.
Or screw the waterfall—light a fire and meditate inside it? I'd gain fire resistance and burn out the mental noise with extreme pain. Problem was, my fire resistance was already so high that normal flames wouldn't faze me no matter how long I roasted.
Floor 7 was a forest, so no fire-attribute monsters around. But maybe one of the dark elves could sling some flame magic? Sitting in magical fire might let me sense mana better, too.
Decision made—I'd scout for a fire mage right away.
A few hours later.
Most dark elves specialized in shadow magic, so finding an elemental user was a pain in the ass.
“Oh my, you're that famous human guest everyone's talking about? Looking for a mage who can handle fire magic?”
But they existed. I finally tracked down a scout who could manage flames.
“Yeah, if you could whip up something strong and long-lasting, that'd be great.”
The scout happily obliged, and I stepped right into the wall of flames she'd conjured.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?!”
Five seconds later, I got dragged out.
The news of me trying to meditate in fire spread to Elenoir fast.
“You're probably the only person in the whole world who'd try sensing mana like that. It's absurd.”
I didn't buy it. “No way. There has to be at least one other lunatic out there.”
“There isn't. Not a single one.”
Elenoir shut me down flat, her tone unusually firm—nothing like her usual teasing vibe.
“I doubt dunking yourself in fire would help you feel mana anyway. You're so reckless.”
Reckless? Fine, whatever. That's how I'd always picked up skills—Super Sense included.
“I didn't think you'd be this weak at meditation, though. I never pegged you for low focus.”
“Really? I figured I was.”
“Your self-assessment is brutally low. Anyone who's seen you fight would think the same.”
I appreciated the high praise, but it didn't help me get stronger. If anything, it was a distraction.
“And honestly, I still don't think it's a focus issue. More like... a problem with your heart?”
“My heart?”
“Remember when I said your fighting looked precarious?”
Yeah, I did. It was after I'd taken down Rizmel and the Crystal Spider Aranasia.
She'd said it looked like my sword and I weren't on the same page. Abstract bullshit—I'd brushed it off. Swords don't think.
“A sword's a tool. Tools bend to the wielder's will.”
“Then what does it mean if it looks like the sword and its master aren't aligned?”
“It means your reason for swinging doesn't match your mindset in the moment.”
Elenoir stepped close, pressing a hand to my chest. “Your heart looks more unstable than anything.”
Her words hit like a gut punch—dead on. My mind was a mess. I'd always fixated on base desires, then hated myself for it. I had hunger, sleep, lust like anyone, but I'd castrated them all myself.
I'd charge into death wishing for it, then claw my way back to survive and escape this tower. I'd only realized how fucked up that was recently.
And Elenoir had seen it from the start. My heart teetering on the edge.
“You act the opposite of what you truly want. It takes insane willpower, but I don't think it's healthy.”
She pulled her hand from my chest and placed it on her own. “I always follow my desires. My will runs parallel to my heart. Ever heard this?”
“Will is the arrow, heart the flame. Together, they pierce the heavens as a fire arrow.”
“Maybe instead of jumping into fire, you need to rekindle your dying flame?”
Her eyes gleamed like they had once before—the starlit shine only dreamers possess.
Elenoir's words hit hard, but they didn't give me any real power.
I got the idea: clashing will and heart bred distractions, sabotaging meditation. But fixing it? No clue.
Not like pondering would magically solve it. Back to the fire plan? Or a bed of nails? Actual waterfall training?
Elenoir gave a wry smile at my suggestions. “Yeah, I figured you'd say that. It wasn't like I expected you to change on the spot.”
She added that if I ever came around, remembering her words would be enough.
Fair. Experiences here weren't easy to forget.
“Anyway, enough advice. Shall we move to a practical solution?”
“There's a fix for this?”
“Of course. I've been digging for methods all week, just for you.”
She beamed proudly, chest thrust out—distracting as hell.
I'd assumed she'd just teach basics and leave me to it. Guess she put in real effort. Made me see her in a new light today. Dark elf princesses really were on another level.
“I scoured the library and found an old night elf secret art. This should get you sensing mana quick.”
She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, scribbled in elvish script—gibberish to me.
“What's this secret art? Just do it and I feel mana?”
She shook her head. Not that simple, but it'd transmit sensations indirectly.
“It links our minds, sharing thoughts. I tested it yesterday—works great.”
Sounded like telepathy. How would that help?
“I'll send you the feeling of mana directly. That'll give you the knack, right?”
Ah, got it. Perfect. My biggest block was never feeling mana at all. One indirect taste, and I'd know where to focus.
“Hehe, this'll be fun.”
Her laugh had a shady edge, but probably nothing.