Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: The Sword Sanctuary
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Human strength is expressed through aura and magic.
Its source is mana, an invisible energy that constitutes humans, distinct from life force.
While black magic borrows power from hell, it too operates through human mana.
That’s why talent for mana is crucial.
Of course, effort matters, but without innate aptitude to a certain degree, one couldn’t even put in the effort.
Before his regression, Damian had ample mana but no talent to wield it.
Neither in aura nor in magic.
That’s why learning black magic had been a miraculous encounter.
But even with hell’s favor, if Damian hadn’t been born with abundant mana, he would have hit his limit long ago.
‘I would’ve died for some other reason before Michael beheaded me.’
In the end, Damian’s power relied on mana, just like any other—it only differed in how it was used.
The founding of the empire—no, even ancient civilizations—revolved around mana.
Those not born with it had no choice but to accept their lot in life.
Yet some resisted this system.
Derek, the Iron Wolf, was a prime example. His innate aura was weak, but he overcame it with physical strength and skill.
Agnes and her father, Ruth, were similar.
They possessed exceptional aura but guarded against over-reliance on it, supplementing with physical strength and skill.
But there were even more extreme cases.
The warriors active during the lifetimes of Aum Pasha and the Mountain Elder.
They hadn’t tempered their bodies to overcome mana.
They chose their path because it was superior.
Unity with the sword.
Considering the reactions of the Mountain Elder and Aum Pasha, the warriors who adopted this method likely used a technique similar to Damian’s.
If so, it made sense that it didn’t rely on mana.
No—even if they wielded unity with the sword more proficiently than Damian, they could be more threatening than those who couldn’t.
Since their holy site was in the north, he planned to visit if the opportunity arose.
He would try any means to grow stronger. That was the path to revenge.
“Sword. Sanctuary.”
Such a place had been mentioned by Shakiya.
“Condition. Met. Damian. Pure.”
“Is that purity meaning no aura use? Why the hell is that considered pure?”
They couldn’t keep conversing outside forever, so he guided her to his room first.
Gulp. Gulp. Before answering the questions, Shakiya first quenched her throat with alcohol.
“Here, let me try some…. Urgh—!”
Curious about the taste, Paruzan dabbed a bit on her fingertip and touched it to her lips. Her expression turned hilariously twisted.
“Aura. Magic. Not. Origin. Pure. Means. No. Mana. Wrong.”
“By that logic, I’m not pure either?”
Damian couldn’t use aura, but he did handle mana.
Black magic ran on Damian’s mana. He could even use a tiny bit of regular magic.
“Shakiya. Doesn’t. Know. Damian. Different. Should. Lack. Purity. But. Pure. That. Sword. Pure. So. Damian. Pure.”
She was talking about unity with the sword.
“How do you even know about that technique?”
“Shakiya. Father. Found. Before. Death. Told. Me. Shakiya. Kept. Searching. For. That. Man.”
As far as Shakiya knew, unity with the sword could be used by physically pure humans.
Thus, she deemed Damian qualified for the sanctuary.
“Shakiya. Couldn’t. Father. Couldn’t. Iron. Wolf. Couldn’t. We. Kept. Searching. For. Sanctuary. Qualified. Warrior.”
Shakiya’s father had been Derek’s disciple. Their tribe seemed deeply connected to the sword sanctuary as well.
Moreover, Derek knew far more about it than he’d let on in Dahapi.
There was every reason to take interest. Wasn’t he a legendary mercenary who transcended aura’s limits through strength and skill?
Damian wasn’t offended that Derek hadn’t told him everything.
After all, wasn’t Damian deceiving plenty of people himself?
But he was curious about the reason. Was it a test? Did he think Damian would take interest if hinted at subtly?
Or perhaps Derek, lacking qualification himself, hoped Damian would achieve it in his stead.
Regardless, he still didn’t get why only Damian qualified as pure.
‘What’s the difference….’
No one knew the exact origins of aura or magic.
They predated the invention of records.
Ancient civilizations centered on magic, but aura users must have existed too.
Hashashin’s founder, the Mountain Elder’s power, had been aura-like.
In human terms, wasn’t Damian—who wielded demonic power—the least pure?
‘Unity with the sword….’
Now he wielded it skillfully, yet he still didn’t know its essence.
Like not remembering the first steps taken as a baby after growing up.
In an extreme moment, he’d glimpsed the path and swung along it. Afterward, it became naturally his.
Would reaching the sword sanctuary reveal answers?
No—perhaps even more fundamental ones.
What origins did aura, magic, and mana—the fundamental forces of the world—hold?
And how would understanding them aid Damian’s revenge?
“Shakiya. Guide. You.”
She said while draining the last cup. At least, Damian saw no falsehood in her expression.
Turning, Paruzan nodded. She too sensed Shakiya’s sincerity.
No reason to refuse. It would cut down time searching for the sanctuary in the north.
“But aren’t you Daeras’s vassal? You can just act on your own like this?”
“Vassal? Shakiya. Doesn’t. Know. That. But. Follow. Daeras. Words.”
Shakiya unwrapped the bandage on her right forearm. A chain-like mark appeared.
‘He’s playing dirty….’
A magic that enslaved one human to another. Like human chimera procedures, it was forbidden.
Indeed, Shakiya’s behavior in their last spar had been odd.
When Daeras’s order came, hadn’t she moved like a puppet?
In truth, few could recognize this magic now, save those in the know. The lineage of experts had died out.
For an imperial scion to use it—no doubt he’d prepared an escape clause.
“This is….”
Paruzan’s expression soured as she stared at Shakiya’s binding.
It resembled the curse once on her.
“Shakiya. Fought. Won. Daeras. Said. Follow. Shakiya. Left. Then. Got. Caught.”
Daeras always claimed the talents he wanted. He was a man of that much charisma and character.
But what he couldn’t have, he destroyed. Like the other princes, he was twisted in his own way.
Yet Shakiya was too valuable to simply break. So he’d resorted to extreme measures.
“But who did this? There weren’t any skilled mages there. I don’t know much about magic, but it looks complicated even to me.”
“You. Didn’t. Sense. One. Guy. Monster.”
“What?”
Paruzan scowled. She prided herself on her senses. Not always perfect, but she wouldn’t miss a powerhouse like that.
“Of the people we met at that mansion, who was the strongest?”
“That second prince, obviously….”
Damian shook his head. He understood. He knew only thanks to pre-regression knowledge.
“Woman. Don’t. Know. Not. Daeras.”
“The butler.”
The man attending Daeras at close range. His face was mild, but fierce loyalty emanated.
But that was it. Nothing else stood out….
“Wa-wait, hold on…. No way….”
“Getting it now?”
Chills ran over Paruzan’s skin.
Back then, focused on Daeras, she’d overlooked it. But in retrospect, the butler had been off.
“No mana. Felt.”
No human lacked mana. Differences lay in quantity and talent for use;
Mana was essential to humans. In the broad sense, humans were mana beasts too.
“How could that be….”
She’d dismissed it as a fluke. Common servants rarely trained aura or magic.
Attendants or maids might train mana, but not always.
Such faint mana often went unnoticed.
But Paruzan had Pursuit. Even faint mana should’ve registered at that range.
The butler hadn’t. Either not human—or an overwhelming master.
“First, we deal with him.”
“That. Condition. Shakiya. Damian. Fight. Together.”
“For a magical binding, he gave you quite a lot of freedom.”
“Daeras. Strange. Told. Me. Chance. Choose. Later.”
He’d granted a sort of chance. Magical enslavement didn’t ensure perfect loyalty.
So, secure Shakiya first, then guide her to true vassalage.
It showed how much he coveted her—and his confidence in his own appeal.
Stockholm syndrome tales existed, after all—not impossible.
“Daeras. Not. Bad. Shakiya. Fought. Satisfied. Somewhat. So. Met. Damian.”
Indeed, Shakiya seemed somewhat content with palace life.
Daeras was famed for treating his people well, regardless of status.
“But. Butler. Mage. Dislike. Shakiya. Unhappy.”
Shakiya’s face darkened instantly. Every organization needed enforcers alongside the lenient.
Naturally, someone had to tighten the leash—Daeras entrusted it to his butler.
“How strong is he?”
Paruzan asked worriedly. A seasoned hunter who devised countermeasures for unknown beasts on the spot.
Confident in her skill, she feared only those who surpassed it more.
But her eyes didn’t dim.
She’d become his arrow.
If Damian set a target, Paruzan would use everything she had for it.
“As a mage, he ranks in the top ten. Of course, not unbeatable.”
In his past life, he’d died by Damian’s hand.
Though harder now—he’d weakened then.
‘It’s about time the orthodox faction gets involved.’
He’d handled Imur—who’d later hold high office—and Zenon, Michael’s confidant, for the reformers.
Weaken both factions but maintain balance.
Especially guard against the scales tipping orthodox.
Not their victory that scared him.
Just their delusion of superiority sparking reckless moves—that’d be a headache.
‘Dealing with him hits the orthodox too. Especially Daeras.’
Elgana the mage.
Once Ariel’s rival for mage tower lord. Also the empire’s worst criminal.
A chance to kill him again had come.