Chapter 5
The savage and sharp mana violently pierced and tore through the soft, fragile bodies of the children without mercy.
“Argh!”
“It hurts! Ugh, ngh… It hurts so much…”
“P-please, save me! Aaaah…!”
Harrowing screams, too painful to hear, echoed from all corners.
In truth, this was tantamount to torture.
The Sacrament’s mana transmission, designed to forcibly heighten mana sensitivity and form a core within the body.
Normally, no respectable magic tower would conduct the Sacrament in this manner.
For someone with the potential to become a mage, it typically took anywhere from a month to over half a year for a mana core to properly settle in the body.
If mishandled, the mana introduced into the body could take a wrong path, damaging internal organs and leading to death—a dangerous process that required high-ranking mages to carefully nurture adaptability over time.
Thus, the Northern Magic Tower’s instantaneous mana transmission was practically a taboo in the mage community.
“Gasp, urgh…!”
A child next to Liriope collapsed forward, bleeding and convulsing before completely losing consciousness.
Liriope’s condition was no better.
The overwhelming mana, too vast for her immature body to handle, surged through her veins like molten metal, scorching her insides.
Her body, drenched in cold sweat from the unbearable pain, trembled uncontrollably.
Even clenching her teeth couldn’t stop the strange mix of groans and sobs from escaping.
“Ugh, hngh, ah… ahh…”
A thick smell of blood filled her throat, and her vision flashed white like bursting fireworks, then faded to black as her mind grew faint.
[Get a hold of yourself!]
As Liriope’s body began to slump forward, unable to endure any longer, a stern voice snapped at her, as if grabbing her by the nape.
[If you lose consciousness now, it’s all over. Do you want to live as a half-baked mage, scorned for the rest of your life?]
Despite having experienced this once before, the pain was impossible to get used to. Liriope bit her tongue, barely clinging to her sanity.
[I’ll pave the way, so focus! Hurry! If you get swept away now, you’ll only live a life trampled by others until you die. Did you come back to the past just to meet such a pathetic end?]
Clinging to those words like a lifeline in water, she struggled to control the rampant mana raging within her.
“Ugh, hngh… ah… aah…!”
Of course, it wasn’t easy.
Naturally. If everything could be resolved by sheer will, why would she have lived such a miserable life up to this point?
Memories from before her time reversal flickered faintly before her eyes.
In the magic tower, where only the strong were recognized and survived, she had lived like less than a dog, barely scraping by each day.
Unaware of how shameful her groveling existence was, she had desperately tried to stay in the Northern Magic Tower with her sister.
But realizing even that was futile, she lived quietly, avoiding others’ notice.
A life where she accomplished nothing, protected nothing, and lived so powerlessly and wretchedly that she grew disgusted with herself.
In the end, she helplessly lost the one thing most precious to her, right before her eyes.
This time, it couldn’t end the same way.
This time… she absolutely couldn’t repeat that path…!
Trembling as if convulsing, Liriope gritted her teeth and endured the agonizing time.
She didn’t know how long she writhed on the floor, screaming.
Her nails, scraping the floor in pain, had broken off, and her face was soaked with tears and drool.
No, her entire body was drenched in sweat, as if it had been raining, making such distinctions meaningless.
Whenever she felt like giving up, unable to bear the pain, a harsh voice in her head whipped her back to awareness.
Yet, despite its ruthless tone, an indescribable intangible force guided the mana toward her heart, where the core was forming, with astonishing precision and persistence.
It felt as though this time would last forever, endlessly flowing.
Flash!
“…!”
Then, at some moment.
Like a sky clearing of storm clouds, like a lake settling after the mist, her foggy mind suddenly cleared.
A clarity, as if her lungs were filled with the crisp, clean air of winter, opened her vision brightly.
And something miraculous happened before her eyes.
“Ah…”
At first, she thought black and blue snowflakes were falling in the room.
In her hazy vision, delicate, shimmering particles danced slowly, floating weightlessly in the air.
As if time had stopped, they drifted leisurely around Liriope, then suddenly surged like a powerful storm, as if a dam had burst.
The mana, which had only wandered painfully, finally found its path and settled in her chest.
As the mana poured fully into her, a sense of liberation and near-omnipotence, unlike anything she had ever felt, welled up.
Her body trembled uncontrollably, but for an entirely different reason now.
What paralyzed her in this moment was a clear thrill, akin to intoxication.
The violent pain that had felt like it was breaking her body vanished as if it had been a lie.
If her clothes weren’t soaked with tears, sweat, and blood, she might have thought it was all an illusion.
Her violet eyes, which had been dazed as if wandering in a dream, slowly regained their light.
Only then did Liriope notice that the light of the magic circle covering the ceiling had faded.
“Hm. Out of fifty, sixteen survived, and only four remained conscious? Better results than previous years.”
The room was filled with the children’s sobs and groans, born of fear, anxiety, confusion, and pain, mingled with the nauseating stench of blood.
Most of the children, unable to withstand the sudden influx of mana, had died, and many of those still breathing lay collapsed on the floor, convulsing in a pitiful state.
Even the few, including Liriope, who remained conscious bore clear traces of writhing in extreme pain.
Among them, the red-haired boy, covered in blood, sat blankly on the floor as if his mind had snapped. Suddenly, his bloodshot eyes scanned the surroundings.
Upon confirming the fate of the boys who called him their leader, he let out a beast-like howl and glared murderously at the mage overseeing the Sacrament.
It was then that Liriope realized someone was holding her tightly, almost painfully.
“Ah… hngh, ngh…”
Only then did she notice the person making choking sounds, as if unable to even scream.
Liriope looked up and saw Kaliona, blood streaming down her face.
“S-sister…?”
Liriope gasped.
[This girl you call your sister… I suspected it from the moment I saw her, but she’s a broken vessel, isn’t she?]
Perhaps due to the fierce struggle they had endured together, the voice in her head sounded noticeably more tired and clicked its tongue softly.
[Her natural talent as a mage is practically nonexistent. Her insides are a mess, yet she’s somehow holding on.]
Liriope couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
No talent as a mage?
Kaliona was a genius, recognized by everyone, wasn’t she?
