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A few days before Renn received her new weapon, Esperanza, Howl was overseeing the southern region, fulfilling his role as its young prince.
Though the region’s borders mirrored those of its neighbors, the landscape was a harsh, arid desert. Ancient irrigation channels brought water from the sea, but the land remained parched, with rainfall a rare event. The people of the southern region, including Howl himself, had darker skin tones, a testament to their adaptation to the harsh desert sun.
Howl’s father, King Jaffra, seemed indifferent to the rising threat posed by the mysterious hunters searching for the Mana of legendary heroes. Even after the Queen of Kaska sent warnings following the attack on Romoel, King Jaffra took little action, leaving Cladun’s cities vulnerable.
In Riska, a bustling merchant city north of Cladun, Howl strolled leisurely through the streets, accompanied by a handful of guards and his personal maid, Bellena. While he casually browsed market stalls, his eyes scanned the surroundings, taking note of any unusual activity.
The people of the southern region adored Howl, far more than his father. Howl was a frequent and watchful presence, ensuring their safety, while King Jaffra was infamous for his relentless tax collections, hoarding the wealth for himself. It was no secret that Cladun’s royal family was the wealthiest among the four kingdoms.
“Ah, Prince Howl! You’ve been visiting quite often these days,” a merchant called out as he spotted the young prince approaching his stall.
“You noticed, huh?” Howl replied with an easy grin. “There’ve been some shady hunters around lately, so I’ve gotta make sure everyone’s safe.”
“We appreciate it! Here, take some apples.” The merchant handed him a few, smiling gratefully.
“Oh, sweet! Thanks!” Howl said, taking a bite and flashing a broad smile.
Of course, there was another reason for Howl’s frequent visits to Riska. While the city was close to Cladun, its true significance lay in the long-standing rumor that one of the legendary heroes—Howl’s ancestor, Edgar Cladun—was buried somewhere beneath its sands.
“Your Highness, we’ve completed our patrol of the city twice already. Shall we return to Cladun? It’s almost noon,” Bellena suggested. She was a slender woman with long black hair and striking red eyes, her dancer-like outfit adorned with jewelry. In Cladun, maids were expected to entertain as well as serve, a tradition Bellena upheld with grace and loyalty.
“Already, huh? Alright, let’s head back,” Howl agreed, finishing his apple with a quick bite.
As Howl and his group set off for the road back to Cladun, the streets of Riska continued to hum with the sounds of merchants haggling and tourists exploring.
Among the crowd, a group of four hooded figures moved silently, unnoticed by most. Two adults and two teenagers slipped through the market and headed toward an empty expanse of sand near the city center.
“It’s scorching here,” one of the adults grumbled, a woman with dark blue hair tied in a ponytail and sharp green eyes.
“Look around, Dina—it’s a desert,” replied the other adult, a tall man with short brown hair and intense orange eyes. “Of course it’s hot.” He pulled out a device, similar to the Mana scanner Velle had used, and after a few moments of scanning, he smirked. “Yep, it’s here.”
Without hesitation, Dina drew her mana bow and fired an arrow high into the sky. The arrow exploded mid-air, showering the area with fiery projectiles. Chaos erupted in the streets as panicked citizens ran for cover.
“Clear this place out!“ Dina barked, readying another shot. “Charlotte, you’re up.“
Charlotte, a short teenage girl with short gray hair and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. From beneath her cloak, a catalyst appeared, and giant translucent arms materialized from it, digging furiously into the sand.
Panic swept through Riska as the people fled in terror. All the while, the other teenager in the group stood motionless, indifferent to the growing chaos around them.
Gart, the man with the scanning device, focused on the area where Charlotte’s arms were digging. “Almost there.”
“Good thing the king couldn’t care less about his people,” Dina muttered with a smirk. “Makes this a whole lot easier.“
After a few more moments, Charlotte had excavated a massive hole in the sand, but she stopped suddenly. “Gart, what’s this?”
“Huh?“ Gart looked up from his device and peered into the pit. His eyes widened in shock. “What the hell—?“
Dina halted her barrage and rushed over to see for herself.
In the pit lay a portion of a gigantic, dead creature. Despite the size of the excavation, the body was so massive that only part of it was visible.
“This isn’t what we’re after, is it?” Charlotte asked, her brow furrowed.
“No, this can’t be it,” Gart replied, shaking his head. “I was sure it was the hero’s tomb based on the Mana reading.“
“What the hell is this thing?“ Dina gasped, staring at the leathery hide beneath the sand.
“It’s the monster I hunted a few days ago.“
A voice interrupted from behind them—Howl’s. He had approached silently, unnoticed by everyone except for the silent teenager, who glanced at Howl with mild interest as he scanned him with a Mana scanner.
The group spun around, Charlotte reacting first. She launched her massive mana arms toward Howl. But he sidestepped the attack with ease, casually looking at the Mana scanner’s screen as it finished scanning just in time.
“Oh? That’s interesting,” Howl remarked with a grin, tucking the scanner away.
“You’re Howl Cladun,” Charlotte hissed, her eyes narrowing.
“Bingo!“ Howl said, flashing a cheerful smile. “Nice to meet you all—especially you, Axel’s descendant.“ He pointed directly at the silent teenager, who remained unflinching.
“That thing down there, is it really your prey?“ Dina asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
“Sure is! Was it worth digging up in all that sand?“ Howl laughed.
“You knew we were coming here,” Charlotte accused, her gaze fixed on him.
Howl shrugged. “Not exactly. But I’ve been patrolling more often since I spread that little rumor about Edgar’s tomb. Had to see if it’d catch your attention.“ He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.
“So the rumor about Edgar being buried here is—” Gart started, but Howl cut him off, his red eyes gleaming with cold amusement.
“Fake. Totally made up.“
Howl’s gaze swept over each of them, his expression shifting slightly as he evaluated their strengths. The woman wielded a bow, the girl had her catalyst, and the tall man’s weapon remained unknown—but it was the silent teenager, Axel’s descendant, who held Howl’s focus. Capturing him was Howl’s primary objective. Though, if possible, he wanted answers too.
His goals were clear: first, learn how they harvested the legendary heroes’ Mana. Second, figure out how they infused it into the descendants. And third, uncover why they were doing it at all—especially since, despite all the destruction, no one had been killed. What were they really after?
“We were sure you’d left for Cladun,” Dina said, her bow raised and ready.
“Does that even matter?“ Howl replied, his tone casual as he began circling the group, his eyes forward yet fully aware of their positions. “You’d cause a scene no matter where I was. This city’s far too close to Cladun for it to go unnoticed.“
He stopped walking, his gaze sharpening like the edge of a blade. “At Axel’s burial site, there were no signs of a struggle. So why the sudden shift to destroying cities? Testing Axel’s powers? Or revealing yourselves on purpose? That seems too reckless for a group like yours.“
Gart took a step forward. “Since we took Axel’s Mana, we’ve been hunted. There’s no way to harvest the other heroes’ Mana without drawing attention. We’d either have to fight off guards, other hunters, or worse,” he explained. “We were hoping to collect the rest in peace.“
“For what?“ Howl’s voice lost its lightness, his tone now carrying a weightier edge.
“To make sure no one with that kind of power stands against us,” Charlotte replied coldly, her blue eyes glowing with resolve.
“Ah, I see.“ Howl closed his eyes briefly, stepping closer to the group, his voice now soft but cutting through the air like a blade. “So you think… now that you’ve got Axel’s Mana, you’re unstoppable?“
The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension. The group felt it—a force radiating from Howl, invisible but suffocating. An oppressive weight hung in the air, making it difficult to breathe.
Gart’s confidence faltered. He had heard the rumors about Howl—the young prince with the strength and cunning to succeed his father—but standing in front of him now, that reputation felt overwhelmingly real. Could they really challenge someone like this?
“P-please, Prince Howl! We’re not looking for trouble!“ Dina said, raising her hands in a feigned gesture of peace. “We’re not trying to do anything bad, I swear!“
“Why don’t you tell me your goal,” Howl said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “and I’ll decide for myself.“
“Well... about that...“ Dina stammered, her eyes shifting nervously.
“We don’t really know what the endgame is either, to be honest,” Gart said with a shrug, trying to act casual, though his voice betrayed his unease.
Howl blinked, incredulous. “Wait, you’re telling me you don’t even know why you’re doing this?“ He scanned their faces, his disbelief growing. Were these people really just pawns in a larger game? Even Axel’s descendant?
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Dina’s demeanor suddenly shifted, her giggle sweet and playful, masking the tension. “Well, since there’s no hero’s Mana here, I suppose we’ll just be on our way~ If that’s okay with you, Prince Howl~?“
“Sorry, I’m not done yet,” Howl replied coolly, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his scimitar. “You’ll have to come with me to Cladun for a little chat.“
“Aww! I knew you’d say that!“ Dina’s voice swung back to theatrical, almost as if she were playing a role. But then, her expression darkened. “Ray, buy us some time.“
At her command, the hooded figure who had been silently observing the entire exchange—Axel’s descendant—sprang into action. His hood fell back, revealing a young man with short brown hair and eerie purple eyes, his face neutral, devoid of any emotion. The air around him crackled, purple lightning dancing along his body as his Mana surged to life.
Howl’s eyes narrowed. So this was Ray—the wielder of Axel’s power. Reports had credited him with much of the destruction left in the cities they attacked. Yet, something felt off about the boy’s blank expression.
Without warning, Ray charged forward, his body a blur of purple lightning. Howl barely dodged, the crackling energy searing the air where he had just been standing. Reflexes kicking in, Howl swiftly drew his scimitar—a Mana-infused blade that shimmered in the midday sun.
“So, we’re doing this, huh, Ray?“ Howl smirked, readying his stance for battle, his crimson eyes locking onto Ray. There was no doubt now—this fight was inevitable.
Howl activated the Mana core of his scimitar, feeling the familiar rush of energy surge through him. The enchantment wasn’t particularly flashy, but it was effective—Mana seeped into his muscles, enhancing his strength and reflexes, sharpening his senses for the fight ahead.
Ray moved first, his body surging with purple lightning that scorched the earth beneath his feet as he dashed forward. The force of their clash sent shockwaves rippling through the empty streets of Riska, the air vibrating with raw power. Howl held his ground, but he could see it—Ray was no ordinary opponent.
A glance at the rest of the group told Howl what he needed to know. They were preparing something in the background, likely an escape. He couldn’t afford to let them slip away, but Ray blocked his path, his presence a crackling storm of relentless energy.
Ray unleashed a volley of lightning bolts, each one crackling violently as it ripped through the air toward Howl. He dodged, sidestepping with a speed that left afterimages in the air. Despite his agility, the sheer number of bolts kept him on the defensive.
“Tch.“ Howl clicked his tongue in frustration. If he wanted to stop those three, Ray had to be dealt with first. But rushing in recklessly would only get him fried.
Howl focused on Ray, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the boy’s movements. Ray’s power was undeniable, but it was raw, unpolished. Each strike of purple lightning was powerful, but chaotic—lacking precision. His dashes, while fast, were erratic, leaving him open in ways a seasoned fighter would avoid. The boy was inexperienced, barely controlling the immense Mana he carried.
If it had been anyone else, they’d be charred by now, Howl mused as he narrowly avoided another bolt. But Howl wasn’t just anyone.
Ray’s purple lightning tore across the battlefield, illuminating the sky with wild arcs of energy. He dashed left, then right, firing off bolts with reckless abandon, trying to corner Howl. But the prince moved like a shadow, weaving through the attacks with expert precision, each step bringing him closer to his opponent.
Ray’s brow furrowed, his frustration growing as Howl closed the distance. Howl’s scimitar gleamed in his hands, the Mana flowing through him giving his movements an almost unnatural fluidity. His enhancements made him faster, stronger—every strike of lightning that missed only fueled his momentum.
Ray hadn’t expected Howl to move with such ease, and for the first time, the boy’s confidence wavered. The shift was subtle, but Howl noticed it—a slight hesitation in Ray’s steps, a falter in his concentration. It was all he needed.
Ray overextended, his foot slipping just a fraction. Howl’s instincts kicked in immediately. He swung his scimitar, not to cut, but to strike with the flat of the blade. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, reverberating with enough force to stagger Ray. His body convulsed, the purple lightning sputtering as his concentration shattered.
Howl didn’t let up. He closed the gap in an instant, his movements a blur. Before Ray could recover, Howl delivered a devastating kick to his midsection, sending him flying back with a crash. The force of Ray’s body slamming into the ground shook the street, the impact leaving a deep dent in the earth. Purple lightning flickered and danced around Ray’s form, but the boy was momentarily stunned, his grip on the Mana unstable.
Howl felt the sting of electricity sear through his leg, the lingering charge from Ray’s aura. His muscles tightened painfully, but he gritted his teeth, shaking off the pain. The damage was worth it.
Seeing Ray struggle to rise, Gart’s fingers flew faster, his brow knit in intense concentration. Every second felt like an eternity.
“Hurry up, Gart! Ray’s getting wrecked! I didn’t think he’d get wrecked!” Dina shrieked, panic twisting her voice as she nervously flicked her gaze between Ray and the prince.
“I’m going as fast as I can, Dina! Give me a damn second!“ Gart snapped, his patience fraying as he fumbled with the last pieces of the device.
“You two are morons,” Charlotte muttered under her breath, her arms crossed, watching the scene with cold disdain. “We should’ve just ganged up on him from the start.“
“Are you out of your mind?!“ Dina hissed back. “Hurting Howl makes us even bigger targets! We’re after the heroes’ Mana, remember? Not picking fights with princes!“
Gart blocked out their argument, his focus razor-sharp as he adjusted the final dial. With a satisfied grunt, he stood up, holding the device aloft. “It’s done! Call Ray back!“
Dina immediately spun toward the battlefield. “Oh, Ray~! Time to come back~!”
Ray, battered and bruised from the fight, responded instantly to Dina’s call. Purple lightning erupted around him, his body a blur as he shot toward the group. Howl, recognizing the retreat, lunged after him, but Ray’s speed was blinding. Each second widened the gap between them.
Ray reached the others just as Gart activated the device. Mana exploded outward, thick and dense, swirling around the group like a storm. The fog grew rapidly, enveloping them completely in a protective cocoon.
“Hey, wait—!” Howl’s shout tore through the air, frustration and fury lacing his voice. He leapt forward, determined to stop them, but his hand closed on nothing but the thick Mana cloud.
Dina, standing safely behind the veil, blew a mocking kiss towards Howl, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Bye, Prince Howl~!”
In the blink of an eye, the Mana fog contracted, sucking inward toward the device Gart had created, taking the entire group with it. One moment they were there; the next, gone. The street fell silent, their presence erased completely.
Howl stood alone, the echo of battle still ringing faintly in the distance. He let out a frustrated breath, his muscles slowly relaxing as the Mana-enhanced strength faded from his limbs. The scimitar’s glow dimmed as he canceled its effect, returning the Mana back to its core.
“Teleportation?” Howl muttered, his mind racing to make sense of the sudden escape. He had heard of such things, but seeing it up close was another matter.
Moments later, Howl was back in the palace, reporting the encounter to King Jaffra. But his words barely stirred the king, whose eyes stayed firmly fixed on the reports of Riska’s reconstruction.
“They got away with Axel’s Mana,” Howl said, urgency heavy in his voice.
Jaffra’s response was as indifferent as ever. “And Riska was damaged. We need repair crews sent immediately. The city’s trade routes must not be disrupted.”
Howl’s jaw clenched. The king wasn’t listening. For Jaffra, this was business as usual. The threat posed by the hunters, by the stolen Mana, barely registered. All that mattered was ensuring Riska’s economy kept flowing.
“And what about the hunters?” Howl pressed, his frustration barely contained. “They’ll strike again. We can’t let them keep—”
Jaffra waved a hand dismissively. “Send a few extra patrols. We have bigger concerns than chasing after vagabonds with delusions of grandeur.”
Howl held back a sigh, his grip tightening on the hilt of his scimitar. In the king’s eyes, the danger was secondary to profits. For Howl, it was clear: the weight of dealing with this threat fell squarely on his shoulders.
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Back in the present day, Howl had arranged a follow-up meeting with Velle after the Riska incident. Velle, however, suggested postponing it until Renn received her new weapon, ensuring they’d be better prepared for the next step. Today, they were finally reconvening.
On the second floor of Alma’s workshop, Velle, Renn, and Mint gathered around the telecommunication device, ready to connect with Howl. As Velle powered up the machine, Howl’s image flickered to life on the screen.
“…They escaped quickly, so I didn’t manage to get much more out of them,” Howl said, his tone apologetic, though his characteristic upbeat energy shone through.
“But you managed to scan the lightning user’s Mana wave, right?” Velle asked, her voice calm and analytical.
“Yep, got that part down!” Howl’s confidence returned. “The guy was stronger than I expected, especially for someone so inexperienced. But something felt off—like he wasn’t fully in control. Almost like he was a puppet rather than a core member of the group.”
Velle nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Interesting… And how did his Mana compare to Axel’s?”
Howl shuffled through his notes, his brow furrowing before responding. “This might sound strange, but his Mana wave… it was identical to Axel’s. A 100% match.”
The group was taken aback.
“A hundred percent?!” Renn blurted, eyes wide in disbelief.
Velle remained composed, though a flicker of recognition crossed her face. “Actually, that makes sense. If he’s carrying Axel’s Mana, the scanner wouldn’t differentiate between them. It suggests our Mana scanners can’t pick up multiple waves within a single host.”
“Maybe his Mana fused with Axel’s?” Mint added, her voice tentative as she thought aloud.
Howl’s eyes lit up. “Oh, like when you infuse Mana from different sources! That’s an interesting theory.”
Velle’s expression shifted as a realization dawned on her. “Wait… if that’s true, then…”
Sensing the significance, Howl’s tone grew serious. “What? You’ve got something?”
Velle quickly explained her theory. “In the workshop, I’ve noticed that Mana with similar waves tends to resonate and attract each other. The closer the waves match, the faster the reaction happens. If we think of the heroes’ burial sites and our bodies as containers, we might be able to draw the Mana directly into ourselves without needing extraction tools.”
Renn’s face lit up with excitement. “That sounds just like what I said before!”
Velle nodded. “Exactly. Your hunch was right. But we still don’t know how to fully control the process. If we can figure it out, though, we could bypass the entire extraction procedure and transfer the heroes’ Mana directly into our own bodies using our existing Mana as the conduit.”
Howl grinned, his excitement infectious. “Now we’re getting somewhere! So, Velle will work on perfecting the new Mana infusion method, and I’ll keep handling things down south.”
“What about me?” Renn asked, raising her hand. “What should I do now?”
Mint turned to her. “You still want to find your real parents, right?”
Velle’s expression softened as she nodded. “In that case, why don’t you head west? To Veledot.”
“Veledot?” Renn repeated, the name sparking a faint memory. Garland’s surname had ties to that region.
“Garland was once the king of Veledot,” Velle continued, sensing Renn’s intrigue. “It’s possible your parents have some connection there. It’s worth investigating. Plus, I’ll send a report on the hunters’ Mana-infused weapons to the Alchemist Corp. They might be able to track where those weapons were purchased, and we’ll coordinate with local hunters to follow any leads.”
Velle stretched her arms, trying to ease the tension that had built during the conversation. “Besides, you’ve been wanting to travel, right? Now’s the perfect time. You’ve probably saved some money from that last monster hunt, and we’ll handle things on our end.”
Renn smiled, a sense of excitement building. “Yeah, I’ve got enough. And now that I have Esperanza, I’ve been thinking about returning my old spear to Wendale.”
With their plans solidified, the meeting wound down. Velle would continue refining the Mana infusion process, Howl would return to his duties in Cladun, and Renn, eager to uncover her past, would set off for Veledot, her hopes of finding her parents renewed.
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At the entrance of Alma’s workshop, Renn stood with Mint and Velle, ready to say her farewells. Velle had given Renn a utility belt similar to hers to keep stuff in.
“Sorry for borrowing your bed for so long, Mint,” Renn said, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“What are you talking about? It was fun! I didn’t know the floor was that cozy until I had to sleep on it!” Mint giggled, clearly trying to keep things light.
Velle adjusted her glasses and stepped forward. “It’s not like you’ll be gone forever. We’ll see each other again soon enough.” She handed Renn a small, sleek device and a polished emblem with intricate engravings that immediately caught Renn’s attention.
“What are these?” Renn asked, studying the emblem in her hand.
“The device is for signals,” Velle explained. “I’ll contact you if something urgent comes up.” She pointed to the emblem next. “That’s an Alchemist Corp emblem. Only those working directly with headquarters have one. Show it at any workshop, and they’ll let you use their telecommunication device to reach us.”
Renn nodded, slipping the items into her pockets. Her worn clothes—still the same ones crafted by the Wendale townsfolk—bore the scars of her recent battles, the tears and stains adding a ruggedness that made her seem older and more seasoned than her fifteen years.
“Well, I’m off!” Renn’s voice was firm, full of excitement for the road ahead.
“Bye-bye! Come visit us again soon!” Mint called out, waving energetically, while Velle gave her usual calm nod, her eyes briefly closed as if in silent acknowledgment.
And with that, Renn left Alma’s workshop behind, starting the journey back to Wendale after two weeks away. As she walked, her mind buzzed with thoughts of how the townsfolk would react to her return—and to the new person she was becoming.
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