Chapter 2: The fighter, Hizaki
On a secluded island at the northern tip of the continent, severed from the mainland of Xenoma. The edge of the world.
In a room within a towering ancient castle, a boy stared listlessly at the ceiling, having nothing better to do.
“I’m so bored… Hey, Lyara.”
“……Nn.”
He called out to the girl who shared his daily life, but she remained absorbed in a massive tome atop her bedding.
Unlike him, she had found a way to skillfully stave off the boredom. The boy puffed out his cheeks in a childish pout.
At a glance, it looked like a cute, peaceful interaction between two children of their age.
But anyone who knew their true nature and circumstances wouldn’t dare utter such a thing, not even if their mouth were torn open.
Ten transcendent beings who had reached the limits of humanity, touching the finish line, and bearing the title of “King.”
The Palace of the Raid Kings. These two children held the bottom seats of that prestigious hall.
The boy, with his crimson hair cut messily and a total indifference to his appearance, nevertheless possessed a sharp, refined face and golden eyes that seemed to pierce right through people with their intense glint.
The Ninth Seat of the Palace of the Raid Kings: [The Sunder King] Ander.
In contrast, the girl with beautiful blue hair tied in twin tails never let her sleepy expression crumble. Even now, she followed the text with her indigo eyes half-lidded.
The Tenth Seat: [The Water King] Lyara.
The two, whose personalities seemed polar opposites, were indeed a mismatched pair. However, they were irreplaceable partners who filled in each other’s gaps.
Yet, they did share one common trait: they both lived for combat.
It wasn’t that Lyara actually enjoyed reading. She was simply desperately chasing words to suppress the fighting spirit hidden within her small body. Even that act had long since ceased to hold her interest.
“Even when I go outside, there aren’t any enemies worth the effort… I never heard that becoming too strong would make life this boring.”
“……Petty.”
As Lyara spat those words out at the world, Ander nodded so vigorously it looked like his head might fall off.
Days spent in constant refinement. They had been so immersed they lost track of time.
But every time they grew stronger, every time they felt themselves evolve—everyone else disappeared from their surroundings.
It wasn’t a matter of trust or comrades. For warriors who saw self-refinement as the ultimate goal, such things were unnecessary.
The ones who disappeared were their sparring partners.
The conclusion: being too strong makes life dull. The summit they had sought did not offer the view they had hoped for.
Thump.
As if she couldn’t take it anymore, Lyara closed her book. The fact that she looked several times sleepier than usual was likely because she had been forcing herself to endure the tedious task of reading.
“—The Sleepless City.”
“Oh, here it comes!?”
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Ander leaned forward in response to Lyara’s tiny mumble, which would have been easy to miss if he hadn’t been focused.
Their eyes flickered with a brilliant, swirling battle spirit.
“I found him—Furcas.”
Lyara’s half-closed eyes snapped wide open, and she bared her teeth in a bellicose grin.
Ander followed suit, exhaling a hot breath as his blood began to simmer.
The Knight directly under the Demon King, the Greater Demon Furcas. That Knight, who had a long-standing grudge with the Palace of the Raid Kings, had once forced Ander and Lyara to taste the bitterness of defeat.
But that was a triviality. While facing the Knight brought back some vexing memories, that was secondary.
As a new sparring partner—a rarity they hadn’t seen in a long time—there was no one better than Furcas.
“Lyara, let’s go!”
“Nn.”
Without a second thought, the two leaped out of the ancient castle.
Nothing else occupied their minds.
There is nothing that can satisfy a starving, parched beast other than the finest meat and blood, devoured after a hunt that teeters on the edge of death.
■
“A weird scent of mana under the Guild?”
After pulling a piece of juicy teriyaki off a skewer and enjoying its sweet-and-savory flavor, I repeated the report I’d heard from Nifl.
“Yup! Gulp… It feels kind of fuzzy and weird, and nostalgic… something like that!”
Garm, who was likewise munching happily on grilled skewers, nodded proudly before immediately returning to savoring the chicken.
I see, so Garm was the one who found it.
Right in front of the Senoskar Company, on a bustling street, we stood pondering the unsettling aura while each enjoying a skewer.
“If Garm says it’s weird, it’s obviously not normal mana.”
“In my personal opinion, I suspect it is some kind of curse,”
“A curse, huh…”
A magical phenomenon brought about by negative mana. In this world, techniques that generally harm the human body are called that.
Another pain in the neck… I clicked my tongue inwardly.
It’s safe to say that curses almost never happen by accident.
Negative mana can be thought of as “dead mana.”
When a living being—human, animal, or demon—dies in this world, the mana they held is released into the world as negative mana.
On its own, negative mana isn’t harmful. Naturally, it’s absorbed by other substances, converted back into positive mana within living bodies, and returned to the cycle of mana circulation. That is considered the natural order.
However, if a natural substance continues to take in only negative mana, that mana crystallizes and triggers some kind of event.
As you might guess from that, a curse is a phenomenon triggered “artificially” using negative mana.
While there is a mathematical probability of it occurring naturally, most corpses are demon food. The mana is usually absorbed along with the body.
Thinking that far, I turned to the ladies.
“Garm, Nidhogg, Nifl—how are you all feeling? Any health issues?”
“Garm? I’m great!”
“The meat is delicious!”
“There is no need for concern, Shiou-sama.”
All three assured me they were in top shape. I breathed a sigh of relief.
There was a reason I asked about their condition.
The closer a being is to a “natural” or “primordial” state, the higher their power to attract mana. This applies to living creatures too.
First, there are the Primordial Species.
They are part of the world’s mechanism, existing since before humanity.
Perhaps as a vestige of a time when there were no other ways to replenish mana besides what was in the air, mana flows preferentially into Primordial Species.
This is said to be the reason for the fundamental difference between humans and Primordial Species.
Next are the Angels. A special race said to exist somewhere in the world, though they’ve cut off contact with the outside.
Then come the Demons. After that, the priority for mana absorption drops for other creatures. To be precise, there are minor differences for Elves or Beastmen, but they’re negligible compared to Primordial Species or Angels.
In short, Nifl and the others are at risk of preferentially absorbing negative mana—the root of the curse. It would likely be converted to positive mana over time, but being blasted with it all at once wouldn’t be good for their bodies.
If the identity of that strange mana is a curse, we need to clear it up quickly.
There are still two weeks until the auction. If we’re staying in the Sleepless City, this is an urgent task.
Seeking Primordial Species skin, looking for Divine Silver Coins, taking Zeno’s request, and now investigating weird mana (a curse?)… my task list just keeps growing.
I can handle the skin and coins in stages,
but I have no clues regarding the “nightmare” plaguing the Sleepless City or this creepy mana.
Honestly, considering the timing, it feels like the nightmares and the curse are related. But concluding they are the same thing might be premature and dangerous.
“Shiou-sama. There is something on my mind.”
In times like these, she’s always the one to help me.
“While gathering information at the Guild, I confirmed a request regarding the fact that many people in the Sleepless City are currently seeing nightmares of a snake. I didn’t investigate the request in detail, but I believe it is not a natural phenomenon. Furthermore, only those born in the Sleepless City see this dream. While this info isn’t confirmed, it came from local mouths and matches the request’s content. From this, I believe there is a high possibility it is a type of [Curse] with a specific purpose. Targeting a specific group and having inexplicable, invasive symptoms are common traits of curses. I humbly suspect the root of it is the strange mana Garm’s nose caught.”
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