It was a deep, frigid cave—the very place Blake had been searching for all along.
After slaying the giant serpent, Blake had left its corpse to the spectral warriors for dissection. While the bodies of most aberrations held little value, certain organs of a Lord-Tier Aberration were far from useless. These components were of no interest to Blake himself, but they would be invaluable to Charlotte. As the captain of the Apocalypse Knight Order's special operations unit, Blake was certain she could put these materials to their fullest potential.
But looting the corpse was never Blake's primary objective. Having delegated the task to his subordinates, he ventured alone into the serpent's lair ahead, in pursuit of the Mana source.
The cave stretched endlessly into the distance, yet it was far from dark. In fact, as Blake pressed deeper, the once-colorless air began to shimmer with a faint, ethereal glow. This was no ordinary light—it was the telltale sign that Mana density in the air had reached its absolute limit. At this threshold, Mana no longer remained an intangible, invisible force like air; it manifested into tangible, luminous forms of brilliant hues. Now, within the dim cavern, these colorful streams of light flowed gently like a galaxy in the night sky, swirling around Blake and shifting their shapes with his every movement. It was a breathtaking, soul-stirring sight, one that even Blake could not help but lose himself in for a moment.
Though Blake never let his guard down completely, he did not tense up unnecessarily. Thanks to the ebb and flow of Mana around him, he had already mapped out the entire cave—there were no other living beings besides himself. That was why he could afford to be so leisurely now. He rested one hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist, while the other stretched out, savoring the surging tides of Mana surrounding him. The energy showed no signs of disturbance at his arrival.
To understand why, one must first delve into the very nature of Mana itself.
On this continent, almost everyone believed that Mana was the very essence of life—a river of vitality that spread hope, existence, and life across the world, sustaining its growth and survival. When living creatures died, their souls would dissolve back into Mana, merging into this great river to continue their eternal journey.
Naturally, this belief split people's attitudes toward Mana into two opposing factions. The first, led by the Mage Association, was the pragmatist camp. They argued that Mana was nothing more than a form of energy—and since it was an energy source capable of bringing immense benefits to humanity, it should be harnessed and utilized to its maximum potential. The second faction, spearheaded by the Holy Grace Church, held an entirely different view. To them, Mana was the source of all human life; therefore, protecting Mana's power meant protecting the world and humanity itself. In their eyes, the Mage Association's cold, unfeeling approach to researching and exploiting Mana was nothing short of sacrilege. After all, barring exceptional circumstances (such as Jody and her sisters), when humans died, their souls would return to the Mana stream. This meant that the Mana the Mage Association wielded so casually might very well contain the souls of their deceased loved ones. How could they use it so callously? It was utterly inhumane.
The Mage Association, however, dismissed the Church's claims with utter disdain. In their view, the moment a soul dissolved back into Mana, it ceased to exist as an individual. Mana itself had no memories, no emotions—how could anyone possibly confirm that it contained the souls of their departed kin?
This question became the crux of their endless disputes. The Holy Grace Church condemned the Mage Association as cold-blooded and heartless; the Mage Association accused the Church of being sentimental hypocrites. The two sides bickered relentlessly over the issue. The Mages retorted: "You claim to respect Mana, yet you still wield divine spells that consume it—how is that any different from what we do?" The Church fired back: "We use Mana with gratitude in our hearts, unlike you cruel monsters! Do you ever thank Mana when you cast your spells?" The Mages scoffed: "Gratitude means nothing to Mana—it has no feelings or thoughts! Your thanks are utterly pointless. Air and earth are also vital to human survival, yet I don't see you thanking them every day. Ridiculous!" The Church flew into a rage: "We exist to safeguard world peace and ensure Mana is used for righteous purposes! Do you research-obsessed maniacs ever consider the greater good of the world?" The Mages countered: "Our research into Mana is precisely to make the world and humanity a better place! You Church fanatics are nothing but obstacles to progress! If you truly want to preserve world peace, disband the Church and stop using divine spells altogether—that would be a genuine contribution!" The Church roared: "If we disband, you mages would run amok! By the time the continent is destroyed, it'll be too late to regret it…"
The ideological and class conflicts between the two factions ran so deep that they plagued every nation across the continent. As pragmatic entities, the kingdoms cared little about whether Mana was used with gratitude or research-driven intent—they only cared about the benefits the Mana sources could bring them. The problem, however, was that both the Mage Association and the Holy Grace Church had a presence spanning the entire continent. The former possessed advanced magical civilization and techniques that every nation craved; the latter, through its advocacy of justice and charity, enjoyed immense popularity among the common folk—not to mention many nobles who were also drawn to its doctrines. Suppressing either faction outright would only incite public outrage. Thus, the royal governments of the various nations chose to bury their heads in the sand like ostriches, ignoring the conflict entirely. Except for those countries located near the Mage Association's headquarters or the Holy Grace Church's Vatican—who openly sided with their powerful neighbors—most nations adopted a two-faced, neutral stance.
Yet for all their differences, the Mage Association, the Holy Grace Church, and the royal families of every nation shared one fundamental belief: Mana itself had no will, no memories, no emotions. It was merely energy—nothing more, nothing less.
It's just ahead.
The intense concentration of Mana hung in the air like melted honey, so thick it was almost suffocating. Blake took a deep breath, forcing down the excitement bubbling in his chest, then turned the corner and stepped inside.
Before him lay a vast, spacious cavern—once the giant serpent's den. The smooth, polished walls were evidence that the beast had made its home here for a long time. The air was thick with the stench of beastly musk, but this bothered Blake not at all. He stood quietly at the cave entrance, his eyes fixed on the beautiful sphere floating suspended in mid-air.
The Mana source.
The infinite wellspring of power glowed with a dazzling, prismatic light, its crystal-clear form hovering serenely in the air. All around it, tangible streams of Mana stretched endlessly outward, spreading in every direction. The sight was more magnificent than anything human imagination could conjure—even the most vivid dreams paled in comparison to its splendor.
Stay calm… stay calm…
Blake took another deep breath, composing himself. This was not the first time he had seen a Mana source—but it was the first time he would claim one as his own. In his previous life, Blake had beheld countless Mana sources and the immense power they held. He had certainly dreamed of possessing one himself, but such opportunities were few and far between. Mana sources were extremely rare, their locations unpredictable. Moreover, every faction guarded their sources with more zeal than they did their own royal palaces—for while a captured palace could be reclaimed, losing a Mana source meant losing everything, with no hope of recovery.
Blake had good reason to be so excited. On the continent, the common practice was to build cities and fortresses centered around Mana sources, anchoring themselves to the fixed location of the wellspring. But in the far more ancient past, there existed a method to move the core of a Mana source—a technique that allowed one to relocate the source to any desired location and modify it to suit their needs. And Blake was one of the few who still knew this lost art. That was precisely why he had ventured into these remote mountains in search of a Mana source. Without this ability to move the core, Blake's current manpower and financial resources would never have been sufficient to build a city in such a desolate, mountainous region. After all, he was but one man—he did not possess the vast wealth, resources, and manpower of a royal family, the Mage Association, or the Holy Grace Church.
"Alright… let's begin," Blake murmured to himself, taking one final breath. He extended his right hand toward the floating Mana source.
The strange, intricate rune reappeared on his palm.
At the same time, the Mana source—previously motionless in mid-air—began to tremble faintly. Thick waves of Mana surged outward in all directions, roaring like an invisible gale, swirling and raging through the cavern.
Blake gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the Mana tempest, while recalling the ancient knowledge he had acquired long ago:
"A Mana source may be an infinite wellspring of power, but it is not entirely immovable. Its true purpose is to channel forces that would otherwise be beyond human comprehension, touch, or control. Simply put, the source itself is not power—it is a valve for power. If one can suppress the immense energy flowing behind this valve, the source can be easily detached. Once the valve is removed, the Mana will automatically replenish the void left behind and erase the original opening, reverting to its primal state. And to suppress such a colossal tide of Mana, only one thing can suffice…"
Blake swallowed hard. What he was about to do was an extremely risky gamble—one he had never attempted before. Though the one who had taught him this technique had spoken with absolute confidence, it was still uncharted territory for Blake himself. But he had no turning back now. The Holy Grace Church had already sent a scouting party here; even though he had eliminated them, they would undoubtedly send more. If he did not move the source quickly, leaving it here would be a constant, festering liability.
No more delays!
Blake steeled his resolve, then activated the soul link: "Are you ready?"
"We are prepared, my lord!" Jody's voice echoed back instantly.
"Good!"
With a low shout, Blake spread his right hand wide, then clenched his fist tightly. The Mana source, which had been trembling faintly moments before, now shook violently, as if on the verge of shattering. At that exact instant, a tsunami of Mana erupted forth from it, crashing against the cave walls with a deafening roar. The once-soft, diffused light turned into a blinding glare, too intense to look upon directly. The Mana had completely lost its stability, surging wildly in all directions, its density surpassing all known limits. Blake could even feel the longsword at his waist thrumming with excitement, yearning to absorb this overwhelming power. But alas—controlling the Mana source alone was already draining every last ounce of his strength. He had no energy left to tend to his soul-bound weapon. If only he could let it feast on this Mana flood, it might have restored its true form in no time. But now… he could only lament the missed opportunity.
Though the Mana flowing from the source was infinite, its initial surge was not without limits. After the initial tempestuous outburst, the intensity of the Mana tide began to wane. Seizing this critical window, Blake began to slowly seal the core of the source. He gritted his teeth, focusing every shred of his concentration, like a dam operator struggling to close the floodgates against a raging deluge. Fortunately, the Mana surge had already peaked; the resistance it offered grew weaker with each passing moment. Soon, the violently trembling source began to shrink, its once-colorful, prismatic form fading into a clear, ice-like transparency. Finally, with a decisive push of Blake's hands, the last traces of leaking Mana vanished without a trace.
It's done.
Blake let out a long, relieved breath as he gazed at the beautiful crystal now floating before him—no larger than the palm of his hand. He reached out and took the Mana source into his grasp, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. Now, he could confirm that his plan had taken a major step forward.
As he stroked the smooth surface of the source in his hand, Blake's thoughts drifted to another matter—a secret buried deep beneath Duskwood Castle, a regret from his past. And now, at long last, he had the chance to make amends, in his own way.
"My lord—have you succeeded?"
A clear, sweet voice pulled Blake back from his reverie. He looked up, a soft smile gracing his lips.
Standing before him were no longer the black-armored warriors he was accustomed to—but a group of beautiful young women. They stood tall and proud, clad in ancient, mysterious suits of metallic armor. The girl leading them fixed him with her striking, crimson eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Earlier, when Blake had unleashed the Mana surge, he had used the soul link to order the spectral warriors to absorb the energy greedily—for the density and purity of the Mana released in that moment were far beyond anything they could normally access. Clearly, his subordinates had executed his orders flawlessly. Not only had they regained their human forms by absorbing the abundant Mana, but they could now manifest their armor through magic, just like Ophelia. Their streamlined suits of armor—blending silver and pitch-black—hugged their figures, accentuating their graceful curves. The young women stood at attention before Blake, their faces glowing with confidence, the longswords at their waists shimmering with faint magical light. On the chest of each suit of armor, a single white rosebud bloomed conspicuously.
"I've succeeded," Blake replied, his eyes lingering on Jody's face for a moment before sweeping over the group of young female knights standing before him—now fully restored to their former strength, true knights once more. "It seems all of you fared well too."
"Of course, my lord," Jody answered with a chuckle, running a hand along the hilt of her sword, a proud smile on her face. "We have fully recovered our strength. From this day forward, we can proudly say that we are once again your most powerful unit… though I suspect your thoughts are elsewhere at the moment."
"You've read my mind?" Blake said, showing no hint of embarrassment at having his thoughts laid bare. "What do you think?"
"I am looking forward to it, my lord," Jody replied earnestly. "Like you, I hope to see it rise again. With the power of the Mana source, we will surely achieve our goal."
"Then—let's go home," Blake said, tucking the Mana source safely into his chest pocket. He shrugged, glancing at the female knights before him. "I think we have a pleasant surprise in store for Miss Ophelia."