The Proper Way to Deal with Dragons
Tsussss…
A strange mana began to flow from Tyrbaen.
It took shape at her fingertips, a long, thin shaft of blue light—
as sharp as a crystal icicle, its point gleaming with dangerous precision.
"…To be honest, I cannot say with complete certainty how this spell will function."
The little witch held a spellbook in one hand, scanning it with a cautious expression.
Just as she said, her face betrayed a trace of unease.
The grimoire she'd bought from a magic shop in Aulrax was, of course, not imperial in origin.
In fact, it was a spell strictly traded outside the Empire's borders.
As a graduate of the Five-Colored Spire, a proper orthodox witch, she couldn't help but feel some apprehension.
"The name of the spell alone feels so strange."
[Special Magic] — A magical acupuncture technique used by the Snail Clan of the Five Beast Tribes.
It mimics the non-elemental mana of the Ghost Serpent to forge sharp, mana-infused needles.
Special Effect: Allows detection of mana flow.
This wasn't a spell from the Balt Empire, nor from the Revolutionary Army.
It belonged to the Beast Tribe Faction.
Those sneaky devs at GodSoft…
'They really took inspiration from acupuncture, didn't they?'
Still, it was the easiest and most direct way to detect signs of magic immunity.
Knowing that, I'd instructed Tyrbaen to find and bring back this grimoire.
"I'll admit, it stings my pride a little… but I'm also curious. A spell that can reveal what my own magic cannot?"
Eyes gleaming with curiosity, Tyrbaen motioned toward me.
"Come now, disciple. Let's start with your right hand."
This felt disturbingly familiar.
"It says here it may sting a little, but you'll manage. Be strong."
Like getting a flu shot in school—
that faint tension, that let's-get-this-over-with kind of feeling.
And then—
CRACK.
"Aaagh!"
I yanked my hand back on instinct.
For a second, I thought she'd punched a hole straight through my palm.
The pain was so intense it felt like blood was about to gush out.
Even though, technically, I wasn't hurt at all.
"Hmm? Does it hurt that much?"
"Can't you tell just by looking at me?!"
"If it hurts, it means it's working. And watch your tone with your master! Now, hand—back out!"
"Wait, wait, hold on a sec—!"
It hurt so badly tears welled up in my eyes.
But there was no wound, no bleeding.
The needle, formed of foreign mana, was simply pressing deep into my body's mana channels—
triggering an excruciating sensation that wasn't quite physical pain.
'My HP isn't dropping…'
Still hurt like hell, though.
The monastery ceiling was starting to look yellow.
***
[Status Condition: Severe Pain has been inflicted.]
[Trait 'Mercenary Gladiator' resists Status Condition: Severe Pain.]
At last, my trait kicked in and dulled the pain slightly—
but I knew it could only mitigate so much.
"…If this keeps up, I'm done for."
Grimacing, I looked up to see Tyrbaen smirking faintly.
"That kind of pain means your mana channels are active—which means that part isn't immune to magic."
Yeah, I knew.
If any part of my body had magic immunity,
mana wouldn't even form a flow there.
'So… the place that doesn't hurt is where the problem lies.'
Which meant—
I had to keep enduring this torture until she found a spot that didn't hurt.
"Master, can't you go a bit easier?"
"Foolish boy. There is no such thing as 'gentle' magic. Now hold still!"
"W-wait—!"
"Don't you dare pull away, you wretch!"
And so began a prolonged session that was very much not torture, legally speaking.
"…Your Highness? Lady Tyrbaen?"
When Kals returned from patrol, the sight that greeted him was… questionable.
He looked at us with deep suspicion.
"Why are you both drenched in sweat?"
"Hah… hah… well, the prince kept resisting, so…"
"How can I not resist when you keep stabbing me like that?! Maybe you should try getting poked next, Master!"
I shouted back, collapsing face-first onto the bed.
"Let's… take a break."
After getting jabbed from my shoulder all the way to my fingertips, the results were disappointing.
No sign of magic immunity anywhere.
'I'm gonna lose my mind at this rate.'
But I couldn't stop here.
Before entering the Dragon's Nest, I needed this issue resolved—completely.
The strategies for a mage and a non-mage were utterly different.
I had to know which path I was locked into.
And I couldn't keep putting it off.
Apparently, neither could Tyrbaen.
"Alright, let's try the left arm now."
Her tone carried a hint of impatience.
"As I do this, I think I'm starting to sense something. The structure of your internal mana channels… it feels strange, somehow. I can't quite explain it, but something's off."
A lead.
That meant she was onto something.
"Oh, and this next one might hurt more, but I'll be able to read a wider range."
…She's not just torturing me, right?
But when I met Tyrbaen's eyes, they were sharper than ever—
and faintly red.
"Even if it hurts, bear with it. Please."
She truly meant it.
She wanted to get to the bottom of this today.
To free her so-called incompetent disciple from the humiliation that had dogged him all his life.
…Fine.
I felt her resolve—and matched it with my own as I offered up my left arm.
"Alright, I'll—GAAAAAAHHH!"
At least warn me next time, damn it!
But Tyrbaen was merciless, stabbing again and again.
"Hold still! Sir Silion, restrain His Highness's arm!"
"Yes, Lady Tyrbaen!"
"How the hell am I supposed to stay still for this?!"
My screams echoed through the monastery halls.
***
[Status Condition 'Severe Pain' has evolved into 'Intense Pain.']
[Status Condition 'Intense Pain' has evolved into 'Extreme Pain.']
[Resistance failed.]
[Resistance failed.]
[…]
I might've blacked out for a bit.
Was this really a game anymore?
Why was I even here?
Was I being punished for something?
'What did I even do wrong…?'
And then—
suddenly, without warning, the pain stopped.
Thunk.
"…?"
I blinked and looked down at my chest.
"…!"
A mana needle was buried deep in the center of my chest—
and yet,
I didn't feel a thing.
More Than Pain — A Tickling Sensation
It wasn't painful—just a faint, tingling tickle.
…Wait. Don't tell me I'm dead?
"Your Highness! Are you alright?!"
Kals, who had been gripping my arm with a twisted grimace, widened his eyes in shock.
"…Y-yeah. I'm fine."
I nodded weakly, still bewildered.
By then, Tyrbaen's cheeks were wet with tears as she frantically examined the spot again.
"Wait… here? This place? You truly feel no pain here?"
"Yes. Definitely not."
…but hold on.
"By the gods, how can this be possible?"
All three of us were stunned.
The needle had pierced the very center of my chest—
right where my heart was.
In other words, she'd stabbed that organ.
"…The Mana Heart."
The words left my lips before I realized it, and both of them froze.
"No, that can't be! The Mana Heart can't be magic-immune! Lady Tyrbaen, surely there's some mistake?"
"That makes no sense. Every Imperial citizen who practices magic possesses a Mana Heart…"
"Yes, exactly! And His Highness can even use basic Sword Spirit! It's impossible!"
"I know. He also used communication magic. So why…?"
Kals was frantic; Tyrbaen had gone limp and slumped to the floor.
Meanwhile, freed at last from the agony, I began to think clearly again—
and my mind drifted to a far darker possibility.
"…Emperor Varaeshan. Why did you do it?"
"Your Highness?"
"What are you talking about?"
Both of them looked confused.
But then, very slowly, their expressions diverged.
Kals frowned in puzzlement.
"Why are you suddenly bringing up His Majesty?"
Tyrbaen, on the other hand, scowled like an old witch trapped in a young girl's face.
She'd understood.
That meant she'd reached the same conclusion I had.
***
[Status Condition 'Extreme Pain' has been completely removed.]
***
"…Alright. Let's lay this out."
I exhaled and began to summarize.
"First—my Mana Heart is under a state of magic immunity."
That could mean two things:
either Gilroshan was born with that misfortune—
or someone had inflicted it on him later.
But when I thought about it carefully…
'It's almost certainly the latter.'
Someone must have deliberately cursed the young Gilroshan's Mana Heart with magic immunity.
After all—
what are the odds of being born with immunity specifically over the heart?
And because of that, Gilroshan had been treated like worthless trash his whole life.
"…Damn it. Alright, second."
I swallowed the anger boiling up inside and continued.
"Our dear Emperor must've known about this. And yet he did nothing."
It made sense that Tyrbaen, a mage of the 7th Star, couldn't diagnose the condition right away.
She'd even had to borrow foreign spellcraft to confirm my theory.
'But Emperor Varaeshan? He's different.'
The man was a 9th-Star Archmage—
stronger even than Erek Kaid, the vice-head of the Mage Council.
One of the greatest mages of this era.
And above all—
'He was Gilroshan's father.'
That meant he'd been watching this boy since birth.
Could he really not have noticed?
No chance.
He either knew and ignored it—
or worse, he did it himself.
The Emperor might've crippled his own son.
Just thinking about it made my stomach turn.
"Third—and in spite of all that, I'm not completely magic-disabled."
As the others mentioned earlier, I could still use minor spells.
The reason?
Because of the Haewoo Sword Art.
Ironically, I'd inherited an S-rank sword technique from a martial-arts world crossover system.
And that technique created an alternate source of mana—
the Dantian.
An old, cliché concept, sure.
But thanks to the Haewoo Sword Art, a second mana organ—
the Lower Dantian—had been activated in my abdomen.
That's how I'd been able to use mana at all, albeit imperfectly.
"…Yeah. Now it all fits."
A chill ran down my spine.
That flashy EX-rank Archmage Card I'd received at the start?
A hollow joke.
If my theory was right, the Emperor himself had shackled me—crippled me from birth.
And yet, it was foreign swordsmanship that gave me a second life,
and non-imperial magic that revealed the truth of my condition.
Come to think of it—
I'd even refused the Guardian Star's offer to unify the continent through the Empire.
I'd been acknowledged by the Empire's enemies instead,
and had secretly accepted a mission from them.
"…"
The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.
And yet—
I couldn't deny it.
Leaving the Empire… had been the best decision I'd ever made.
Like escaping a death trap.
Ever since then, my life had only improved.
What did that mean?
Could it really be… fate?
A ridiculous notion—
and yet I couldn't bring myself to laugh it off.
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