Chapter 79: Blood Magic [3]
The searing pain didn’t fade. It deepened.
At first, it was like fire under the skin—now, it was as if something inside me had caught flame. My veins pulsed with pressure, like they were expanding beyond what my body could handle.
Then came the tearing.
"Aaagh—!"
The scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it, raw and guttural. My knees buckled, but Velra didn’t let go. Her grip stayed firm, even as my entire arm convulsed under her touch.
"You’re lucky," she said softly, almost absentmindedly. "Anyone else would be faint by now."
Lucky?
Another wave of agony hit, worse than the last. It felt like something sharp was slithering through my veins—tiny blades slicing through vessels, red-hot wires threading themselves into my bloodstream.
My vision dimmed at the edges. The torchlight blurred and doubled. My breathing hitched.
My body thrashed once, instinct screaming at me to escape, to run—but Velra’s other hand pinned my shoulder down, holding me in place like an executioner with a sacrificial lamb.
"AaaaaAARGH—!"
This time the scream wasn’t even a word. Just sound. Desperate. Wild.
Tears welled in my eyes, completely unbidden. My muscles trembled. My fingers clenched and unclenched like they were possessed by something outside of me.
"Don’t fight it," Velra murmured, her tone calm—almost kind. "The blood magic is rewriting your circuits. Your body was never meant to handle this. But that’s what makes it beautiful."
Another jolt surged through me, and something snapped in my chest. I screamed again, hoarse now, the sound ripping through my teeth. I could taste iron. My nose was bleeding.
It was like my very blood was screaming.
My skin burned as veins glowed faint red beneath it, visible now through the surface—like crimson roots spreading out in chaotic patterns. My heartbeat surged out of control, hammering like a war drum.
"You’re lucky I’m controlling the ritual," Velra said, her breath brushing my ear again. "If you’d tried this without a guide, your heart would’ve burst five minutes ago."
Lucky.
I could barely think. My mind was a haze of fire and agony. All I could do was endure.
I clenched my jaw so tightly it felt like it would crack. My nails dug into my own arm, drawing blood—but that pain was distant, shallow compared to the inferno blazing inside.
Something twisted again, near my ribs—an internal snap that made my back arch involuntarily. I screamed again, this time collapsing onto one elbow as my legs gave out.
"Almost there," Velra said softly.
I wanted to believe her. But part of me wasn’t sure I’d make it.
Every second stretched into eternity. The pain was no longer just pain—it was a presence, wrapping around me like a cloak of molten thorns.
It wanted to consume me.
It was consuming me.
Was this what magic cost? Was this the price of power?
I gritted my teeth.
I chose this.
If I gave in now—if I let go—everything I endured, everything I fought for, would be meaningless.
I refused to die here.
Even if my body turned to ash, even if my blood tore me apart—I’d endure.
For the people who left me behind.
For the people I had yet to face.
For the future I couldn’t reach without power.
Velra’s grip finally loosened. The red glow faded from her palm, though my arm still pulsed with dull, radiating pain.
"...You survived," she said, almost surprised.
I was on all fours now, drenched in sweat, arms trembling, blood dripping from my nose and fingertips.
But I was alive.
Barely.
My voice was a whisper—hoarse and cracked.
"Was that... the initiation?"
Velra knelt beside me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"That was only the beginning."
I collapsed fully to the ground, cheek pressed against the cool stone floor, chest heaving.
The beginning.
Gods help me.
But despite the pain...
...I grinned.
My cheek was still pressed against the cold stone, each breath shallow and ragged, but a flicker of heat remained—not from pain this time, but something sharper. Deeper.
Satisfaction.
"I should be dead," I rasped, more to myself than to her. My throat felt raw, like I’d swallowed glass.
Velra chuckled under her breath. "You came close. But close doesn’t count in blood magic."
I tried to lift my head, but the motion sent a bolt of lightning down my spine. I grimaced, swallowing a groan.
Everything hurt.
My bones ached like they were too big for my skin. My muscles trembled from exhaustion, and my heart—my heart still beat like it didn’t know if it should keep going.
But it was beating.
"...How long was that?" I asked.
"One hour," Velra replied casually, standing up and brushing dust from her robes. "But time loses meaning during rituals. Especially one this violent. Most don’t last the first thirty minutes."
Velra looked at me with a satisfied expression.
It seemed that looking at me was giving her certain pleasure.
Haah... good for her, I guess.
This is different from a game—it’s reality.
So will I have side effects?
"You’ll have side effects," she said, as if reading my silence. "The first week is the worst. Fevers. Nightmares. Hallucinations, probably. Don’t trust what you see in mirrors. Don’t eat anything raw. And under no circumstances—no circumstances—should you try casting."
"Why?" I asked, voice barely audible.
"Because your mana circuits are still rearranging. One wrong thread, and you could combust from the inside out."
"...Oh."
She smirked. "Don’t worry. If that happens, I’ll collect your ashes for study."
I let out something between a laugh and a cough. The pain shot up my ribs again, but I didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
At that moment, I saw Velra’s body flinch for a moment.
There was silence, and soon the smirk returned to her face.
"What is it? What happened?"
She looked at me, her smirk widening.
"My bat minions have found the exact location of the human you told me to look for."
Finally.
Now I can assassinate that piece of shit.