The Knight Who Devours Magic - Chapter 43

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 43. Origin Mana?
Bang!
The filthy sensation coursing through his knuckles had never felt so welcome.
Thud.
The enemy’s corpse crumpled, skull shattered beyond recognition.
“Hah…….”
As relief washed over Munoh, his body staggered, and with a grinding crunch, the fractured and displaced bones snapped back into place.
The pain was considerable, but bearable.
It was only a shame that so much of the corrupted Mana he’d consumed was being spent on healing the shattered Armor on his left arm and the various wounds across his body.
Still, the discovery that the corrupted Mana he’d absorbed—or more precisely, the Mana it had been converted into—could also be used for wound recovery was worth the cost.
And the energy left over after healing would likely boost his strength considerably.
‘It’s strange that I don’t even fully understand my own abilities yet…….’
Yet there was something oddly satisfying about gradually uncovering and growing from each revelation.
Of course.
‘The cracks barely hurt, but when it shattered completely, the pain was worse than the initial break.’
He’d also reconfirmed a distinct drawback of his ability.
But the relief at surviving such a harrowing brush with death outweighed everything else.
Yet that moment of calm reflection didn’t last long.
Just as he was about to contemplate how the Mana created after consuming corrupted Mana fundamentally differed from other Mana—how it both healed his body and amplified his abilities at their root—
“Stop gawking like an idiot! Get the Priest, now!”
Ah!
Rasumia’s shout shattered his concentration.
“Klam!”
Only then did he notice the blue-haired knight lying on the ground, bleeding profusely from his head.
‘Damn it……!’
He cursed himself for letting his guard down after defeating the enemy and rushed toward Klam.
But a grating voice cut through the commotion.
“How dare you give orders to—!”
“Shut up and call the Priest! Or I’ll tear you limb from limb!!”
Cain, who had done nothing but stand there gawking throughout the entire battle, was now being confronted by a furious Rasumia, her finger jabbed accusingly at him.
‘That bastard…….’
In that moment, Munoh’s already poor first impression of Cain plummeted further.
Crack-crack-crack.
As rage surged through him, Mana moved of its own accord, drawing fragments of the shattered Armor from the fallen Collide’s body and forging them into a Metal Shuriken.
His arm swung naturally.
Whoosh.
Ping!
The small ‘blade’ flew with perfect precision—courtesy of his Metal Manipulation—grazing past Cain’s ear and embedding itself deep in the wall behind him.
Hummmmm.
“Huh!?”
Cain’s blue eyes went wide, his gaze snapping toward the shuriken that had just whistled past his head.
“You maniac……!”
Without even a moment to celebrate discovering this new application of his Spirit Art, Munoh roared at him.
“Shut your mouth and call the Priest! If anything happens to Klam, you won’t walk out of here alive!!”
That threat made Cain swallow his words, and his face flushed an even deeper red.
Yet.
‘Damn it…….’
Looking at Collide’s headless corpse already beginning to rot—as befitted someone who handled corrupted Mana—and the severed body of Spirit Master Razman, he couldn’t afford another outburst.
No matter how much his pride balked, he couldn’t ignore how dire the situation had become.
“Damn it! Get the Priest! As fast as you can!”
Only then did his guard move, and even the attendants who had been lying prone on the floor, praying for the calamity to end, began to stir.
‘Damn it, what in the—’
As Cain’s bewildered eyes darted frantically about, Rasumia knelt beside Klam, staunching the flow of blood from his head.
She worked with trembling hands, whispering urgently:
“You’re okay. The wound isn’t deep. Your skull isn’t fractured. You’re okay. You’ll be okay…….”
Yet her expression suggested anything but reassurance.
‘So they really are siblings, even after all that fighting.’
Even as she murmured those words, she demonstrated a strange technique—manipulating the wind to aid Klam’s breathing and controlling the blood flow with precise movements.
‘Dominion over wind and water, then.’
The characteristic trait of Spirit Art—utilizing one’s surroundings—was proving invaluable even in emergency care.
But as Munoh watched, doubt crept in.
“Can’t Mana heal directly?”
“……Don’t talk nonsense! This isn’t some joke, and right now——!”
Rasumia, who had been shouting at the absurdity, faltered as she caught the seriousness in Munoh’s eyes.
“Your wounds?”
“Huh? I, well, they healed……so quickly.”
His answer and the perfectly intact state of his body left Rasumia bewildered.
“How!?”
“If you’re asking how, I’m not sure I——”
Munoh himself could only be confused.
He’d assumed his rapid recovery was due to Mana, but Rasumia’s reaction suggested otherwise.
“You’re a Spirit Artist specializing in metal!”
“What does that have to do with——”
“You repair broken equipment, not fix bodies! Are you made of metal yourself!?”
“Well, I……”
……It was possible.
Because parts of his body certainly were metal.
But.
‘My armor healed, sure, but my arm and shoulder blade too? Surely I’m not some walking metal——’
Come on, I’m not the Terminator.
No matter what, it was a stretch to say that the Mana of the metal he used had healed his wounds.
What had actually been consumed in restoring the armor was corrupted Mana that he’d swallowed and converted.
In short.
“……It shouldn’t be possible, but in limited circumstances, it seems I can use Mana that restores life?”
“That’s impossible! Are you saying you used Origin Mana——!”
Crack.
Rasumia, about to shout again in her urgency, stopped short as she watched Klam’s slightly fractured skull knit itself whole the moment Munoh’s hand touched it.
Munoh’s expression brightened in contrast.
‘It works!’
He could vividly feel the Mana he hadn’t yet absorbed—what Rasumia called Origin Mana—healing Klam’s body.
The efficiency was far lower than when healing his own injuries, so most of the remaining Origin Mana was consumed.
But he could feel that the power had completely restored even the brain inside Klam’s damaged skull.
That confirmed it.
‘The Mana generated immediately after consuming corrupted Mana carries the power of life.’
Presumably, what Rasumia called Origin Mana referred to Mana imbued with that vital force.
So if he absorbed it directly, his wounds healed and his physical abilities rose—or he could use it to heal others like this.
A 5-Star mage’s corrupted Mana, nearly at 4-Class Mage level, had vanished into thin air.
‘But what of it? I saved someone’s life.’
Simply confirming this new possibility was enough satisfaction.
Of course.
“How did you……?”
This situation seemed only to confuse Rasumia further.
And Munoh felt a twinge of regret too.
He’d realized something else in the process.
“About that……”
His gaze turned to his left arm’s armor—shattered moments ago, now completely restored.
Even if it’s my body now, being metal as well.
‘If I’d just endured the pain and manipulated the metal’s Mana, it would’ve healed quickly anyway. What a waste……’
It probably would have taken longer that way.
He felt regret at pouring Origin Mana into the armor, but decided to count it as tuition paid.
“What I mean is, this Artifact of mine breaks down mages and magi after defeating them, extracting their corrupted Mana. That’s how it seems to generate what you call Origin Mana.”
By now, using this Artifact as an excuse had become nearly a universal lie.
Yet Rasumia didn’t accept it so readily this time.
“That’s impossible. Something like that couldn’t……When did it start doing that?”
“I only discovered this property just now.”
“Then that’s not an ordinary Artifact—it’d have to be Transcendent Grade……That can’t be. Or maybe you became a Spirit Knight and that caused some synergy? I’ve heard many strange legends, but I’ve never heard of an anti-mage Artifact creating synergy like this……”
Bewildered, Rasumia began forcing logic to fit within her own understanding.
“Regardless, Klam is truly all right now?”
“Ah. Yes!”
Rasumia answered immediately to his words, thrown out to change the subject before one lie spawned another.
She lifted Klam’s eyelid to examine it, then began checking his pulse.
Soon a sigh of relief escaped her.
“Thanks to you, it looks like we’ve passed the crisis. Thank you, Munoh.”
“It was nothing. It was only natural to help.”
“But no matter how I think about it, it’s astounding. Should I really revisit those old legends about Spirit Knights?”
He was curious about what those strange legends concerning Spirit Knights were, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this? Given how serious things are, I did raise my voice rather harshly at Grand Prince Cain.”
He’d certainly snapped at Cain without restraint in his anger, but now that he thought about it, he felt a twinge of unease.
And yet.
“Hmph. In a situation like this, who do you think bears the greatest responsibility? He’s the one who should be worried about how His Grace will respond.”
Rasumia’s words that followed did much to ease his burden.
As they were laughing and talking together, it happened.
The Old Priest, dressed in a brown cassock and wearing the insignia of a judge, burst hurriedly into the office.
“May the benevolent Mother of the Earth bestow her grace…”
The Old Priest who had been summoned was a priest of the Mother Goddess of the Earth, “Rue”—the most popular among various religious orders.
Ordinarily, a priest of “Rey,” the god of life and animals, was said to be best at healing people, but at this moment a priest of the Mother Goddess was sufficient.
Flash.
Whoooosh.
From behind the old priest’s back, five translucent wings of light shimmered, and radiance poured forth from his hands.
Then everyone’s eyes fell upon Klam’s wound beginning to close with remarkable speed.
“Oh…!”
So it was real.
A miraculous recovery that seemed to reverse the very flow of time.
It was a healing ability that worked in an entirely different manner from using Origin Mana to mend a wound.
‘If the priest had only arrived sooner, I wouldn’t have needed to absorb all that Origin Mana. Tsk.’
Munoh, witnessing a Miracle performed by a priest for the first time, unknowingly let out an exclamation of wonder, his eyes wide.
Then, becoming aware of the many gazes turning toward him, he quickly closed his mouth.
‘That’s right, I’m a rustic. So I find it fascinating, so what…’
He murmured inwardly words he couldn’t quite bring himself to say aloud.
“The healing is complete. Fortunately it wasn’t a serious injury, so he should regain consciousness soon.”
At the priest’s words, spoken with a hint of a smile, those gathered heaved sighs of relief.
‘Not serious, he says. A while back, it really was…’
Newly aware of the Origin Mana he’d spent, he pouted slightly.
“You did more work than I did. I know that.”
“No, not at all.”
As Rasumia patted his back and smiled.
The atmosphere around them suddenly grew heavy again.
“Cain, you understand how grave this situation is, don’t you? Come with me.”
“…Yes.”
Enoch, the Count of Trion, who had arrived and witnessed the treatment after receiving word.
When he fixed his eldest son with a stern gaze and gestured, Cain had no choice but to follow behind him, his face haggard.
And two middle-aged men watching that scene with secret smiles on their faces.
They’d tried to smile discreetly, but with all the surrounding people watching the two of them, there was no way it could go unnoticed.
‘At least pretend it’s serious.’
Watching Enoch’s second and third sons, who bore a resemblance to Cain, Munoh clicked his tongue inwardly.
‘Are these really family?’
– A knight of the Aslan Duchy had been a Mana Addict, and attempted an assassination in Trion, only to die.
Simply thinking of it this way, one could easily predict that the aftershocks of the incident that had just unfolded would be enormous.
Yet they smiled?
‘Seeing them so pleased about this—they’re actually stupid. The second and third sons definitely don’t have the makings for leadership.’
Of course, beyond any question of ability as candidates for the next household head, for there to be such a grave problem in the family and for them to be smiling suggested a fundamental character flaw.
‘Short-sighted, rotten character. The household is a complete mess.’
To be honest, Roanna, Cain’s daughter, was clearly an exceptional talent.
But that young lady likewise didn’t appear to be playing an ordinary role as a daughter or granddaughter.
It didn’t feel like a properly functioning family at all.
Though Enoch, the Count of Trion, had the presence of a mountain or the sea, he’d clearly made a poor job of raising his children.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Ah, nothing. I’m just relieved that Klam is alright.”
“Relieved? More like—”
Rasumia let out a scoff as if it were nothing.
There was no sign of the anxiety that had haunted Klam until his complete recovery. None whatsoever.
Though the shift in her demeanor struck him as rather amusing.
“Now the real trouble starts. Aslan won’t just let this slide—I’m sure of it. This has gotten out of hand.”
Yet what she spoke of was no laughing matter.
The Aslan Duchy.
One of only two ducal houses in the entire Airan Kingdom.
Considering that Kyle Dragoon, the kingdom’s sole Seven-Star and the Sword Duke, had not expanded his house’s influence, Aslan was effectively the most powerful noble family in the realm.
A house rooted not in the barren Northern Region like Trion, but in the prosperous South near the capital itself, accumulating vast wealth and influence through expansive territories and farmlands.
And simultaneously, it was the premier house of the royal consort, having produced both the current king’s legitimate queen and his third concubine.
In short, it meant they were the mainstream force of the kingdom—a noble family no other house could afford to cross, save the royal family itself.
“What will they do?”
“First, even if we present that mad old bastard’s rotting corpse, they’ll deny it and paint us as orchestrating a spectacle to besmirch the family’s honor. Then they’ll demand compensation. For the death of a 5-Star knight and a 4-Class Spirit Mage.”
“But they were the ones who infiltrated secretly. And the Spirit Mage was killed by that old man himself.”
“We have no way to prove it. They’ll claim all the witnesses and evidence are fabricated. Besides, they’ll insist the infiltration was an invitation from Prince Cain—and in that much, they won’t be entirely wrong.”
“I… suppose not.”
“But we can’t concede everything either. A wrong is a wrong. The Commander won’t back down. Not for the family’s honor.”
“Hmm. Then…”
“If we’re unlucky, this could balloon into a major incident that drags Trion and all its vassal houses into it. The Commander will need to handle it carefully.”
Her eyes burned with gravity—nothing like someone who’d wanted to flee Trion at a moment’s notice.
And as she’d predicted, the incident would indeed bring a tremendous aftermath in its wake.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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