Hans, who had been quietly listening, rolled his eyes, then blurted out a question before he could stop himself.
[So you mean it wasn’t like that in the past?]
A moment later, he realized he had interrupted without permission and shut his mouth.
But since the words were already out, all Hans could do was tremble.
Grander gave him a pitying look, then slowly nodded.
“That’s right. The monsters you now know only as legends—races entirely different from humans—once existed on this continent. And not only that, they lived alongside one another. Sometimes in harmony, sometimes in conflict.”
But it was humans who ended that age.
The monsters were driven away, and humans built kingdoms of their own.
What remained on the continent were demi-human races resembling humans.
Even they suffered human oppression, enduring countless battles and massacres.
“During those centuries, humans created a great many things, but they lost even more than they made. What’s more absurd is that they don’t even know what they lost.”
“Non-Attributed Mana is one of those things?”
“Likely so. But this is surprising.”
Grander shifted her legs back and forth like a child kicking her feet.
“I always thought they’d lost their treasures because of the flow of time and their own desires—that their foolishness had brought about those results. But hearing your story now... there’s a sense of wrongness.”
“What kind of wrongness?”
“That I don’t even know why it happened.”
Ludger fell silent at that.
If Grander herself could say such a thing, it was no trivial matter.
“Why would something that was once a blessing have turned into a curse? They say that forgetting something can bring that about—but what was the root cause of that forgetting? And why was I unaware of it?”
Listing off her thoughts one by one, Grander finally spoke her conclusion.
“Someone orchestrated it.”
Orchestrated it?
For once, Hans congratulated himself for not blurting out his thoughts.
“They blocked information, distorted it, twisted the truth. And the strange thing is—though I have no memory of suffering such a thing, I clearly have.”
It was such an outlandish claim that it bordered on absurd.
No matter how great the power, who could interfere with the course of human history to create such a gap in knowledge?
And among the affected was none other than Grander, an 8th-Circle mage.
Who could possibly do that?
Hans, no matter how hard he thought, could not think of anyone.
“Who do you think was behind it?”
“Who else? There’s no one who’s been around since that time except the Lumenis Church.”
Hans’s eyes went wide at her words.
That religious fanatic order? Doing something like this? How?
Rationally, it seemed impossible.
But is it really?
He couldn’t bring himself to dismiss the theory outright.
It was strange—how a conspiracy theory like that could feel so convincing.
Was it because the speaker was a legendary vampire and the most powerful mage alive? Did her strength and authority lend the claim credibility?
No. This is my instincts telling me it’s true.
Especially now, in his spirit-beast form, Hans’s senses were sharper and keener than usual.
And the most accurate sense he had was his animal instinct.
That was not something to take lightly. Hans might hate his cursed constitution, but he acknowledged its usefulness.
When he felt a sense of foreboding in beast form, it always came true.
And now, with this inexplicable certainty, it was no different.
Besides...
Hans’s eyes darted toward Ludger.
At Grander’s speculation, Ludger had remained silent.
With no change in expression, it was hard to read his thoughts, but Hans could tell he was thinking deeply.
He’s not denying it.
If it were untrue, Ludger would have dismissed it with a laugh or a cutting remark.
But he held his silence.
From that, Hans was certain—
Ludger knew.
Considering Ludger’s true identity and origins, his reaction only made the theory more believable.
Then Ludger finally spoke.
“So, Master, you’re saying you don’t actually know what Non-Attributed Mana is.”
“I don’t.”
Grander’s reply was sharp and immediate.
For a being who had lived so long, admitting ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) ignorance could be a blow to pride, yet she showed no embarrassment at all.
“All I have is a vague ‘back then it was like this’ feeling—no clear memory of what happened or what went wrong. It’s unpleasant, like someone forcibly restricted my memory.”
“But you seem to know something now.”
“I’ve only sketched a rough picture in my head by piecing together the information you brought me. But it’s hazy, unfocused—a meaningless picture, really.”
Even so, Grander smiled broadly, as if enjoying herself.
The expression, mismatched with her appearance, carried both a strange allure and a chilling undercurrent.
“A mana cursed by God—what exactly it is doesn’t matter. What matters is that the world tried to bury the truth, and that once it’s revealed, it will shake the world to its core.”
Her red eyes gleamed as she fixed them on Ludger.
“My student... what will you do? That truth is sealed deep in a dark place, wrapped tight at the bottom of a deep lake.”
“...”
“Will you still seek it? Can you endure the countless interferences and pressures from those who want it hidden? Once you learn it, can you bear the weight without being crushed? Can you keep your will from breaking halfway?”
Her voice rose, emotions flaring—radiant excitement and anticipation burning like a brilliant flame.
“Even if you realize it, no one will understand you. People will point fingers. Will you walk a path no one else will understand—anyway?”
A heavy question.
It was as if she was telling him—if even one of his answers to these questions was no, then he should turn away from the truth, like everyone else.
Because that would be the wiser choice.
“When have I ever not?”
Ludger’s answer had a touch of petulance.
Grander’s eyes widened briefly, then she smiled warmly.
“Yes. That’s my student.”
Hans shivered at the scene.
Grander and Ludger—master and disciple—yet the dynamic between them was unlike any normal teacher-student relationship.
“So have you found a way to deal with it?”
“If it’s related to God’s curse, I plan to turn it against itself.”
“Against itself?”
“I’ll borrow the power of the black mages—beings that stand in direct opposition to divine blessings.”
Another possible answer was to use the power of demons.
But Ludger had decided not to go that far yet.
The only demons he knew were Zero Order and Helia.
Neither could be trusted.
Especially since he didn’t know Zero Order’s true motives for wanting Rine, it would be unwise to reveal his own hand first.
“Not a bad approach. But, my student—remember this. That’s only a temporary measure, a way to buy time. It will never be a fundamental solution.”
“I know.”
Ludger nodded.
Grander seemed satisfied to leave it at that.
Then her red eyes shifted, catching something in another direction.
“Oh? Today is unusually eventful.”
She had sensed something.
Just then, a rat scurried up and stopped in front of Hans.
After squeaking out a rapid message, Hans’s ears shot up.
[...Boss. I think we need to move.]
“What’s wrong?”
[Phantos has gotten into a fight.]
Phantos, in a fight? At a time like this?
More than that, Hans’s voice carried an unusual urgency.
“Who is he fighting?”
[I don’t know. But if it keeps going like this—]
At Hans’s answer, Ludger’s eyes widened.
[Phantos might die.]
* * *
Phantos swung his arm toward Ruthers.
At the tips of his thick, sturdy fingers, sharp claws had grown.
Claws and fangs—these were the weapons that allowed beastkin to fight even without any armaments.
They were also one of the reasons beastkin were recognized as exceptional warriors.
However, beastkin didn’t normally reveal their claws.
Claws were usually only brought out in situations of absolute desperation, when one could not use a weapon.
In other words, it meant one’s life was in imminent danger.
Proud beastkin warriors, with their strong sense of pride, were reluctant to unsheathe their claws.
But now—
Phantos had brought out his claws and was charging at his opponent, without the slightest hesitation.
A dull yet intense flash, like a lightning bolt cleaving downward, tore through the air.
Ruthers’ expression remained calm even as he saw the flash of death swinging toward his head.
Then, just as those gleaming claws were about to reach Ruthers’ forehead, the unbelievable happened.
Crack!
Phantos’ hand struck the ground, not Ruthers’ head.
His eyes widened.
Dodged? In that short time?
That was what Phantos thought—until he realized it was a mistake.
Ruthers hadn’t dodged. His attack had simply... missed. So naturally that it was baffling.
He was sure he’d aimed precisely for the head. How did it miss?
Pushing the question aside, Phantos immediately launched his next attack.
Five streaks of light ripped through the air toward Ruthers’ chest.
This time, Ruthers met Phantos’ gaze as if to answer his intent—and extended a hand.
The hand not holding the bread bag.
Tap.
It was such a natural, almost gentle motion.
He merely touched Phantos’ swinging arm lightly and nudged it away.
But the result was anything but light.
The five trajectories curved away from Ruthers and slashed harmlessly into empty space.
Slice.
A rusted pipe on the alley wall was sliced cleanly, its sharp cross-section exposed.
This wasn’t merely deflecting an attack.
It was taking it and redirecting it entirely toward a chosen target.
Unbelievable.
Phantos should have had the advantage in both strength and speed, yet Ruthers’ light push had overpowered him.
The blood in Phantos’ veins rushed faster.
Every muscle in his body surged, swelling with explosive power—like a wild beast with its fur fully bristled.
“Kraaang!”
With a beastlike roar, Phantos shot out a fist.
It tore through the air in a vacuum arc, aiming straight for Ruthers’ solar plexus.
“Better than a moment ago.”
Yet Ruthers blocked it just as effortlessly as before.
Just like at the start—he merely pushed Phantos’ arm aside with his hand.
And that alone sent Phantos’ punch crashing into the wall of the building beside them.
Boom.
The whole structure shuddered violently, part of the wall collapsing in rubble.
Fortunately, the place was uninhabited. Otherwise, the damage would have been catastrophic.
Terrifying power—
but it still hadn’t reached Ruthers.
Thinking this wouldn’t work, Phantos suddenly spread both arms wide, intending to grab Ruthers.
If strikes wouldn’t land, he would take it to the ground.
But at that instant, his arms swept through empty air.
His vision spun wildly before he even had the chance to break his fall—
Thud! His back slammed into the ground.
Dazed, Phantos could only see Ruthers standing there with one arm casually outstretched.
Phantos leapt back to his feet, not even brushing off the debris clinging to his back, claws bared as he retreated.
Ruthers Wardot snorted.
“Strength and speed are fine, but your technique is pitiful. Or... is this you improved?”
The next moment, Phantos vanished from his spot.
A beat later, fractured debris sprayed up where he’d been standing.
With surprising agility for his massive frame, Phantos darted around Ruthers.
Kicking off a wall to the opposite side.
Stepping on a railing and dropping down.
Bounding from the ground to the side, kicking off a pipe.
Despite the dizzying movement, Ruthers stayed composed.
Seizing an opening, Phantos lunged from behind, swinging his claws for Ruthers’ nape.
But without even turning his head, Ruthers extended a hand.
The path of Phantos’ claws bent, as though space itself warped, scraping harmlessly against the ground.
Crunch.
Chunks of fractured earth scattered everywhere, dust settling on Ruthers’ suit.
“My, watch yourself. This is my going-out suit. If it gets dirty, I’ll get scolded when I get home.”
Ignoring him, Phantos spun like a top, a kick whipping toward Ruthers’ temple.
Perhaps realizing words wouldn’t work, Ruthers sighed faintly and shifted from pure defense—
—to offense.
Bam-bam-bam!
Phantos’ world flashed white from the pain flooding his body.
He’d thrown the kick first, but Ruthers’ blow landed faster.
And it wasn’t just once—it struck three times in quick succession.
Though they were only light punches, the impact sent Phantos flying far back.
“Well, well.”
Ruthers flexed and relaxed his fist with a note of admiration.
“Your body’s incredibly sturdy. You’re no ordinary beastkin, are you?”
He had meant to fully subdue him, but the feel was like punching a boulder.
“This makes controlling my strength tricky.”
Shaking his head, Ruthers stepped forward.
In an instant, his body blurred forward, reaching Phantos as he was just getting up.
Before Phantos could react, Ruthers grabbed his wrist and swung him like a sack, slamming him into the ground.
Boom.
The dark alley reverberated with a massive impact.
Phantos’ body sank into the ground, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
“That’s far enough. If I’d wanted, you’d be dead.”
Even as Ruthers warned him, Phantos tried to rise.
“Stubborn as hell. A guy like you should’ve joined the knights.”
Regret tinging his voice, Ruthers released Phantos’ wrist and pulled his fist back—
This time with a stance utterly unlike his previous casual blows.
But just that was enough to freeze Phantos’ whole body.
If that punch landed, he couldn’t dodge or block it.
“Take a little nap.”
Murmuring, Ruthers thrust his fist forward—
—but at that moment, a shadow dropped from above, landing between them.
Clang!
The sound of metal rang out as the shadow was pushed back.
Ruthers raised an eyebrow at his blocked attack.
Phantos’ eyes widened at the familiar back before him.
“Wow. That’s insane.”
Alex lightly flicked his sword after catching Ruthers’ punch.
“I heard all this racket and came to check... who’s this monster of a guy?”