Leon was baffled by her unexpected demand to destroy his own mana core. His expression hardened as he looked down at her tear-streaked face.
"Why are you saying such a thing, Loriel?" His voice was serious, controlled. "Explain."
He didn’t want to take her seriously—the demand was absurd on its face. But he had to consider the possibility she knew sothing he didn’t. She was from the Higher Domain, had access to knowledge and training he’d never encountered. There might be dangers he simply wasn’t aware of.
Even so, I would never destroy my mana core. Whatever the problem might be, I’ll solve it so other way.
Loriel heard the gravity in his tone and forced herself to speak through the guilt crushing her chest. The words tumbled out in a desperate rush as she explained everything—the taboo nature of absorbing life force, the poisoned mana that ford when vitality converted inside the body, the historical accounts of those who’d made the sa mistake, the corruption that spread through mana cores, the choice between crippling yourself or dying.
Leon listened without interrupting, his face growing more thoughtful with each sentence.
When she finished, he took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"If the mana from absorbing life force was really going to affect , it would have happened by now."
Loriel’s eyes widened. "What—"
"This isn’t the first ti I’ve done this, Loriel." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "Not at this level, maybe. But I’ve absorbed mana through vitality before. Multiple tis. And nothing has happened to . I’m completely fine."
It must be the All-Elental Orb. That’s the only explanation that makes sense. The artifact is sohow purifying the converted mana or preventing the corruption from taking hold.
He reached out and patted her head gently, his hand warm and reassuring against her green hair. "You’re worried for nothing. But thank you for caring enough to panic like this."
Loriel’s face flushed bright red at the head pat—the casual intimacy of the gesture catching her completely off guard. But embarrassnt was secondary to the shock of his words.
He’s done this before? Multiple tis? And nothing happened?
"How... how is that even possible?" she whispered, more to herself than to him.
According to everything she’d learned at the Church of Life, according to centuries of recorded history and cautionary tales, what he was describing shouldn’t be possible. The corruption was absolute. The poisoning was inevitable. There were no exceptions.
Yet here he stood, perfectly healthy, telling her he’d been doing this repeatedly with no ill effects.
"Don’t ask to explain it," Leon said firmly, reading the questions forming on her face. "Just trust that I know my own body, and I’m fine."
Loriel nodded slowly, but her mind continued racing.
He’s not just the Holy Son. He can’t be. This is beyond what even legendary figures should be capable of. His talent, his strange abilities, the way rules seem to bend around him...
A suspicion was forming—one she barely dared to think fully. Sothing greater than what she’d been taught to recognize. Sothing that transcended even the highest classifications she knew.
What exactly are you, Leon?
Seraphine had been listening to the entire exchange from a few feet away. Initially, she’d assud this was another one of Loriel’s dramatic overreactions—the girl seed prone to panic.
But watching Loriel’s genuine terror, hearing the desperation and absolute sincerity in her voice as she begged Leon to destroy his core... Seraphine’s perception shifted.
She really believed he was in mortal danger. She wasn’t exaggerating or seeking attention. She was trying to save his life.
Seraphine’s opinion of Loriel improved dramatically in that mont. The girl had honor, and she cared about Leon’s well-being even at the cost of looking foolish. That ant sothing.
With the crisis averted—or rather, revealed to be no crisis at all—Leon’s attention snapped back to what really mattered.
"That monster should have dropped sothing." He voiced his thoughts aloud rather than keeping them internal. "It doesn’t make sense that there’s nothing."
Seraphine nodded imdiately, her tactical mind engaging with the problem. "Agreed. A creature that powerful, with that much mana flowing through it? There should be a core at a minimum. Probably multiple valuable materials."
Loriel added her own knowledge, still slightly shaken but focusing on the easier topic. "This is very, very strange. The beast cores are almost universal among strong creatures. They form naturally from mana concentration. For one, this is powerful to leave nothing..." She trailed off, frowning deeply.
Leon agreed with both their assessnts. His own experience, limited as it was, told him the sa thing. Sothing was fundantally wrong here.
His eyes shifted to the wolf-eared demi-human girl standing about a ter behind them. She’d been silent since the battle ended, watching them with cautious curiosity. He still didn’t know her na, but she was a native of the Middle Domain—her input would be valuable.
"Is this supposed to be normal?" Leon asked directly, gesturing to where the ash pile had been.
The grey-haired girl’s ears twitched, and she answered without hesitation. "Of course, this is not normal. Such a strong beast, at the very least, would drop a mana core if nothing else. Usually there’d be skill stones, valuable bones, organs preserved by mana concentration..." She shook her head firmly. "This is wrong."
Hearing confirmation from soone who’d probably lived her entire life in the Middle Domain solidified Leon’s suspicions completely.
There’s sothing else going on here. Sothing hidden.
He made a decision. If there was sothing out of place in this area, he had the perfect tool to find it.
Leon activated his Spatial Awareness and began extending it far beyond its normal fifty-ter radius. The sphere of perception expanded gradually, sweeping through earth and stone and root systems.
One hundred ters. Nothing unusual—just normal forest floor, bedrock, scattered debris.
Two hundred ters. Still nothing. Dead trees, old bones, the fading traces of the monster’s mana signature.
Three hundred ters. Empty. Rock formations, underground water channels, nothing that stood out.
He continued pushing, feeling the technique strain slightly as it reached distances he rarely explored.
Four hundred. Five hundred. Six hundred.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Seven hundred ters. Eight hundred ters.
Co on. There has to be sothing.
Nine hundred ters—nearly a full kiloter from his position.
There.
Deep beneath the ground, far deeper than any natural root system should reach, Leon detected sothing strange. A rock formation, perfectly spherical, about the size of a football. It sat in an underground cavity that itself seed too precisely carved to be natural.
That could be a coincidence. Erosion can create odd shapes. But...
His instincts scread otherwise. The sphere was too perfect, too deliberately placed, too coincidentally located almost exactly beneath where the wooden monster had fallen.
What if that wooden creature wasn’t the real body? What if it was just a puppet, controlled remotely by whatever is down there?
The theory fits too well. The strange regeneration that seed to pull vitality from nowhere, the lack of a core when the body turned to ash, the way the entire forest had been under the monster’s control—all of it made more sense if the true creature was sothing else entirely, sothing hidden underground using the wooden horror as a disposable puppet.
But looking at the three won standing with him—Loriel still slightly shaken from her panic, Seraphine alert but unknowing of his discovery, the wolf girl cautious and uncertain about these strangers who’d saved her life—Leon felt responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders.
If I’m right, and that sphere is the real body, it might react violently when I approach. It could have defenses, traps, or worse. I can’t risk their safety on a theory.
"We’re going back," Leon said firmly, his tone brooking no argunt.
All three won looked at him in surprise. The abruptness of the decision clearly caught them off guard, but sothing in his expression—the set of his jaw, the way his eyes had gone distant and calculating—stopped any questions before they could form.
They began walking back through the forest, retracing their steps toward the city gates.
The journey took roughly forty minutes at a careful pace. They erged from the tree line as afternoon sunlight painted the walls of Conan City golden, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.
The grey-haired wolf girl had followed them the entire way, making no effort whatsoever to hide her presence. She maintained a distance of about ten ters, close enough to remain part of their group but far enough to give them privacy for conversation. Her tal claws retracted and extended periodically as she walked, a nervous habit that betrayed her uncertainty about the situation.
As they approached the imposing stone structure of the Adventurer’s Guild building—a four-story edifice that dominated the eastern quarter with its distinctive crossed-sword emblem carved above the entrance—Loriel leaned closer to Leon and whispered urgently.
"She’s still following us, Leon." Her eyes flicked sideways toward the demi-human girl who walked behind them with her hands clasped behind her back, her wolf ears swiveling to track sounds from the busy street. "She’s not even trying to hide it."
Leon glanced back briefly, eting the grey-haired girl’s eyes for a mont before looking forward again. "I know."
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