Novels2Search
To Escape from Dragons
Volume 1: Chapter 11 - The Type of People

Volume 1: Chapter 11 - The Type of People

After he had finished the 'Essence of Mana' one time, Ovid did not feel any changes occurring to his body and didn’t detect his heart opening to the world around him. Of course, this meant that he couldn’t sense any mana fluctuations. He began calculating in his heart.

Most people would begin their path toward immortality at the age of four and the relatively talented would restrain themselves for four years, officially stepping into deaconhood at the age of eight. This way, they still have ample time to progress to the later stages. There had been tales of able people who restraint from preception for twenty years, yet died before crossing the boundary to deaconhood.

 However, by his estimates, the current body he inhabits is around the age of fourteen and thusly, he does not have the same amount of time as those in the clergy. He probably can cut off three-quarters of the time and achieve the same result, since the other three years are just precautions. This meant that he had to restrain himself for one year. But does he have the same luxury as others to wait around for a year? No, then what should he do? For the first time entering this world, Ovid felt lost.

If others knew the reason behind his discontent, they would certainly put on a strange face, this was as his entire calculation was built in the fact that he could even push back his preception for a year. Then he would begin sensing mana, and if he could sense mana. To other’s, this perspective demonstrated that, on a subconscious level, Ovid placed himself on the same level as other geniuses like Catherine. 

They would certainly feel that Ovid was an extremely proud person, no matter how courteous and silent he is. That is due to Ovid having complete confidence in himself, even to the degree that others may feel it was arrogant and naive. 

Just as he was thinking, the owner walked by and created a shadow that covered the half-empty plates and himself.

Ovid tilted his head and saw the ageless receptionist smiling at him.

Anna had already finished her meal and decided to take a stroll around the city so the seat opposite of him was empty. The owner sat on that chair.

The owner was someone who could tell he was not of this world, so she could obviously tell what he was thinking, she said, “There are early comers and latecomers in this world. But arriving early or late is something dependent on fate.” 

Ovid did not expect the owner to suddenly say heavy words, he asked, “What is the shortest amount a time a future saint had restricted themselves for?”

The owner replied, “The boy Alexander had set the record and taken twenty days to build a perfect foundation. But he had started early and was a strange case, for he was already able to perceive mana when he was born.”

“He had built a perfect foundation before being a month old.”

Ovid thought for a moment, but he didn’t know how to think about such an answer. 

In the world, there is a type of person that makes other speechless. They do not need to speak or act, they just need to merely exist for people to grow melancholy and doubt themselves. Those type of people’s lives could only be described as without any obstacles, they are not only talented but has the effort to supplement said talent. Simply put, everything about them is the best, and they could even make a top-notch genius cough up blood.

Secretly, the owner was somewhat afraid that her words would douse out the small flames that existed in Ovid’s heart. But she saw that Ovid’s eyes did not dim and still hid behind its calm exterior ambition and tenacity.

The owner looked at Ovid and slide her hand across the table. She wrote one the wooden table.

“The path toward eternality is never simple. You should always start from the ground up and never rely on any strange ways to boost yourself up. Most importantly is to not lose hope and act in self-mutilating ways.” 

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Ovid looked at the symbols on the table and was stunned. He could not read the world’s language yet the words appearing dimly under the star’s light and carried a faint scent of aged alcohol could be understood by him.

The tree leaves were swaying back and forth under the night breeze. Ovid looked at the symbol for a long time.

‘Patience.’

Patience is to endure. 

Ovid pondered quietly and watched the alcohol the word was written in sink into the table. He stood up from the chair and walked into the owners’ kitchen and boiled a pot of water. He then returned to his room and lied down on the bed, wrinkling his brows he then thought about the other words the owner said. 

What monstrous talents would this Alexander have to complete preception before he was even able to crawl? How did he accomplish this?

If he had known that the current model for perception, and the book ‘Essence of Mana’ had been written only after Alexander’s death, perhaps he would have grown even more astonished at this figure one hundred thousand years ago. At that time, humans weren’t even able to manipulate mana. 

Ovid did not anything immediately, he placed a few wildflowers he had collected in the forest into the boiling water and brew a cup of tea. Then, he continued to lay on the bed and watch the stars for an hour. Satisifed with his current state of mind, he closed his eyes and waited.

“The path to eternity is never simple,” he reminded himself. 

---

Anna was strolling through the ‘South Market’, her delicate little face was dimly lit by a candle laying on the vendor’s table. 

Watching as the vendor’s hand over her pouch of saffron for half the price in had originally been, she could not resist a bright smile forming on her face. 

During her own reading on the ‘Essence of Mana’ she could feel that something had transpired, otherwise, she could not explain the strangely good mood she was in. How would one describe it? It was a feeling better than the time Irene had taken her to the Aeon forest and saw the endless fields of flowers that seemed to have stretched on forever. 

Anna did not think anymore, she handed half a hyperpyron to the vendor, much to her pain, and joyfully reached out her other hand to retrieve the pouch. When she had almost reached the pouch, her hand went stiff. 

The vendor thought Anna was not satisifed with the already low price and was ready to cry. 

But Anna suddenly realised that there seemed to be an invisible barrier between her hand and the pouch.

Mana was something one cannot see, hear, or touch. It was non-existent. It was not like a mountain which could be seen with one’s eyes, or like the cry of a sparrow.

But mana could be measured by those ‘one in a thousand’ talents who has the ability to sense it. These people have all been recruited by the clergy in the Julian empire, and are capable of sensing the mana that existed in every corner of the world. While they are incapable of seeing, hearing or feeling the mana, they could feel it’s fluctuations by exposing their heart to it. To them, it was definitely something that exists. 

Only by being aware of mana, could one tread on the path to deaconhood, where they channel the mana to circulate through their body. 

Staring blankly at her slender fingers, the tiny gap between it and the cloth pouch, and the nervous vendor, Anna knew what she felt was something the vendor could not. 

It was inaccurate to describe this kind of sensation with ‘touching’ - as the book had stated, it was preception. 

It seemed that the will of the world understood Anna’s desire to get her little hand onto that bag of exotic spices. The pores at the end of her fingers opened, and the mana subsequently conveyed the pouch, the contents within, and even the fingerprints of those that had touched the pouch. It moved at a speed beyond what eyes can comprehend, and then finally entered her heart.

The ‘South Market’ was noisy, but Anna felt that in the current moment, it was dead silent. She gazed at her fingers with the same curiosity as she had with the frogs she had dissected by the lake and did not blink. Her fingers were steady but she made sure with the utmost effort that they should not begin to shake. She was like a marble statue keeping this rather funny posture. 

After a long time, she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in a cutesy manner. She glared at her fingertips with apprehension. Then, she slowly closed her eyes, snuffing out the excitement and started to meditate on the spot.

She had never meditated before, nor had she ever seen Julia and Irene meditate. Yet the state came completely natural to her. It was as if she was once more back in her mother’s womb, and the loud clatter and noise of the market place did not bother her at all.

Gone was the nervous vendor ahead of her. 

Her mind was tranquil, she could hear her own heart.

The feeling of meditation was truly wonderful, and Anna found that it was even harder to describe it’s beauty than to express the strange mood she had been in. The field of endless flower now seems worthless compared to the sense given to her by the gentle and elegant fluctuation of mana. It was more dignified by the east wind that brings life to the world. They were as gentle as the tranquil water sitting at the top of the pond, yet nimbler than the fast-flowing waters at a waterfall. 

She forcibly suppressed the emotions pouring out from her heart when she confirmed what she perceived. She awakened. Peering at the vendor in front of her, she gave the vendor another hyperpyron before taking the pouch. After walking away from the bustling markets, her eyes flashed with excitement. She was able to see a grey cat lying lazily on the walls of a housing complex far away from the ‘South Market’ and the uniform trees outside the city walls. The present world is still the same as it had been moments before, but from this moment on… it would be completely different for Anna. 

She had successfully achieved perfect preception in the time of a single afternoon.

In the world, there is a type of person that makes other speechless. They do not need to speak or act, they just need to merely exist for people to grow melancholy and doubt themselves. Those type of people’s lives could only be described as without any obstacles, they are not only talented but has the effort to supplement said talent. Simply put, everything about them is the best, and they could even make a top-notch genius cough up blood.

It seemed… Anna is also this type of person.