Chapter 6 – The Hunt for the Serpent King
Night had fallen once again over the academy island, shrouding it in darkness and silence. Thick clouds blotted out the moon, a light rain slid through the canopy, and a mist curled over the lake's still waters. Few ever visited this side of the island — the forgotten, overgrown path near the northern forest where the oldest library stood.
And that was exactly why Seryn was here.
In his hands lay an ancient, dust-covered book. Its pages were yellowed and brittle, the edges burnt as if it had survived a fire. Heavy chains sealed it with magical runes. This was no ordinary text — it was an illicit record stolen from the restricted section of the archives, a treatise on the oldest known ritual practices.
On the first page, a warning was etched in crimson ink:
"Those who open these pages gamble with their soul and flesh. Mana bows only to those strong enough to carry it."
Seryn flipped through the pages silently. They were filled with names — hundreds of them. Names of those who had attempted rituals over the centuries.
Some were marked "Successful."
But most… most were crossed out in red. "Dead."
"Lost sanity."
"Lost humanity."
"So it's true…" he murmured.
His thoughts drifted back to his first ritual. It had seemed almost easy. Yes, there had been pain — his body had ached for days — but he had survived.
Now he understood why: the D-rank serpent he had used had been too weak to pose real danger.
But an A-rank beast… that was an entirely different story.
"As one old ritual master wrote," he read aloud. "At the end of this path, you either become a monster… or a legend. There is no middle ground."
The next several days passed in near-total isolation. Seryn skipped classes and ignored the chatter of students. Instead, he buried himself in research — ancient maps, historical records, even forbidden journals.
Slowly, a picture emerged. The island had once been part of a vast, ancient forest. A century ago, during a sealing operation, a peak A-rank beast — the Serpent King — had been trapped beneath it. The creature had survived by feeding on residual mana from the seal, but its life was slowly fading.
In the original story, Lucien would slay the dying beast shortly after the demon attack and absorb its core, using it to leap into B-rank power.
But now… that story would change.
"I have two weeks," Seryn whispered. "Two weeks to prepare."
Preparation — that was the hardest part.
The first ritual had been simple. The next would be lethal. According to the records, only 30% of those who attempted a high-level ritual survived. Most died in agony. Others lost their minds and became feral creatures, wandering the forests on instinct alone. Some never even retained their human form.
That was why Seryn began planning every detail meticulously.
The first step: Stabilization Elixir.
It would slow the mana's entry into his bloodstream and prevent his channels from bursting. He had found an old recipe in a forbidden manuscript. The ingredients were rare — some could be stolen from the academy's greenhouse, while others had to be bought on the black market.
Second: Soul Anchor Talisman.
This ancient charm would prevent his soul from detaching during the ritual, reducing the chance of madness. Crafting it would be difficult, but he had once read an old mage's notes. With a few adjustments, he believed he could make his own version.
Third: The Ritual Site.
A stable, mana-harmonized environment was essential. Performing a ritual in an unstable area meant certain death. One record mentioned the remnants of an ancient altar deep in the northern forest — the same place where the Serpent King had been sealed a century ago. If he could find it, the natural mana balance would be on his side.
Lastly: Progressive Adaptation.
He planned to perform several small-scale rituals before attempting the real one, briefly integrating low-grade mana cores into his body and then expelling them. This would gradually make his veins and channels more elastic — more adaptable.
"All of this… is just to survive," he whispered to his reflection in the mirror.
"Because if I fail… then none of it matters."
Rumors had already begun to spread through the academy.
"Did you hear? That disowned son of House Daskal performed a ritual."
"And he's still alive? Then it must have worked."
"He'll probably lose his mind eventually. They always do."
Seryn ignored the whispers, but he couldn't ignore the stares.
Professor Arelis, the mage instructor, watched him closely during class.
"There are paths, Daskal," Arelis said with a faint, mocking smile. "Paths with no return. If you've chosen to walk one… you should know what awaits at the end."
"I know, Professor," Seryn replied calmly. "And I'll walk it anyway."
A week later, most of his preparations were complete.
The elixir was brewed. The talisman was nearly finished. He had located the ritual site.
Only one thing was missing: courage.
When night fell, Seryn slipped through a narrow path behind the academy's gardens and disappeared into the forest. A map was tucked under his arm, a small pack on his back. With every step, his heartbeat grew louder.
Two weeks… maybe less.
The Serpent King still slept beneath the forest floor, but it wouldn't survive much longer. If he found it now… fate itself would bend before him.
"There's no turning back," he whispered to the darkness.
"I chose this path… and I'll see it through."
Far ahead, faint traces of old sealing runes pulsed softly in the gloom.
Seryn quickened his pace.
The real battle hadn't begun yet. But the first stone had already been set in motion.
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💭 Will Seryn truly change fate, or will this path consume him?