Chapter 2: Reaper's Domain

There's no way I'm dying like this. Think, damn it. Magic is created by manipulating mana into tangible phenomena. You can't control other people's mana—but what if I mixed my mana into someone else's spell?

Would the magic become mine? I don't know. I can't cast spells, after all. But there's only one way to find out—experiment.

"Don't even think about running, or I'll tie you to the post again!" Plink sneered, launching another Fireball at me.

I focused, moving my mana to intercept the point of impact and mixing it with the spell. A burning sensation spread across my skin—failure.

But it hurt less than last time. I scattered the magic slightly. So, that's the trick—mixing my mana disrupts their magic. If only I could convert it into a spell of my own. Then I could hijack the magic and throw it back in their faces.

Plink laughed. "Heh, that was fun! Fireball! Fireball! Fireball!"

I tried again, dodging as best I could. It still hurt, but this time, I managed to scatter almost half of the damage. I just need to move faster—mix my mana quicker. My burns stung, but I couldn't let them slow me down.

After Plink left, Karina, my fiancée, emerged from the shadows. "Oh no, look at you! Heal! Heal! Heal! How's that?"

"Thanks, Karina. It's better."

She wasn't convinced. "Heal! Heal! Heal! Just in case."

I pushed myself, barely sleeping as I honed my mana manipulation. I learned to circulate mana continuously, flowing it throughout my entire body. Wherever an attack might land, my mana would already be there, ready to disrupt it. By the time I was eight, my circulation was fast, though progress slowed. I split the flow into two channels and pushed it to the tips of my hair. Plink's spells were now half as effective against me, though Karina's healing magic had grown even stronger.

At nine, I could maintain my mana flow even while asleep. I deflected 90% of Plink's magic—almost there. I decided to take it a step further, creating a mana pump within my body to boost circulation.

By the time I turned ten, my mana pump was complete, doubling both my circulation speed and mana reserves. I reached the point where Plink's magic couldn't touch me. I pretended it hurt to avoid suspicion, but inside, I knew I had won.

At sixteen, my mana circulated at a hundred times the speed it once had. Plink's spells were nothing more than a breeze to me now. If only I could attack... If I could turn this mana control into an offensive technique, I'd be unstoppable. I experimented, trying to disrupt enemy mana by making physical contact, but that wasn't enough—I needed more.

One day, Plink dragged me along to an F-rank dungeon, assigning me as their pack mule. His entourage was just as inexperienced as him, but I figured the low-level dungeon wouldn't be too dangerous. We descended through the dungeon, defeating rats and goblins until we reached a large, empty chamber.

In the center was a treasure chest. It looked suspicious.

"You, go open it," Plink ordered. "Leave your pack here."

I hesitated, sensing trouble, but I had no choice. If I disobeyed, Plink would whip me—mana manipulation can't block a whip. I placed my pack down and walked toward the chest, slowly opening it.

The ground lit up with glowing runes—a summoning circle.

"We got it!" Plink shouted gleefully as he and his lackeys retreated, leaving me behind. The air filled with the guttural growls of high goblins. Trapped and surrounded, I knew I wouldn't survive without a fight.

I compressed every ounce of my mana into a dense ball and unleashed it in a wave. To my shock, the goblins began choking, clawing at their throats before collapsing. Mana poisoning. Of course—high concentrations of mana were toxic to living creatures.

I immediately grasped the potential. I recalled the tales of mana geysers—rivers of mana that erupted from beneath the earth, poisoning anything caught in their flow. That's exactly what I had just recreated.

I gathered my mana before it dissipated, cycling it through my body again and compressing it even tighter. When another wave of goblins rushed in, I released the stored mana—and the same thing happened. They choked and died.

I refined the technique, expanding the field of dense mana around me. It was more than just a barrier—it became a domain of death. Any creature that entered was poisoned and killed instantly.

With this new power, I discovered another trick: the mana I released acted as a radar. I could sense disturbances in the flow, detecting traps and projectiles with perfect clarity. When a goblin shot an arrow at me, I sensed its path through the air and dodged easily, long before it reached me.

The more I practiced, the more I perfected my domain. I could extend the reach of my mana field up to a hundred meters. No sneak attack could surprise me now. Traps became trivial—every mechanism had mana flowing through it, and my radar picked them out without fail.

I became a moving storm of death. Monsters fell as I walked, and traps were disarmed before they could spring. For the first time, I felt truly powerful. I was close to being unstoppable.

This was only the beginning. With my domain, no one could touch me—not Plink, not anyone. I wasn't just surviving anymore. I was thriving, and soon, I'd claim everything that was taken from me.

The King of Mana Manipulation had arrived.

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