Monarch Chapter 81

Chapter 81

The march back to the army camp was quick and silent.

After Rayne had finished explaining every detail about the battle, Captain Edran wasted no time issuing orders. The necromancer’s body was carefully lifted and wrapped, then placed onto a stretcher and carried by a rotating pair of soldiers. Rayne had no idea what they intended to do with her body, but he doubted she would be getting a funeral.

Her artifacts were taken over by Selene.

The woman collected the rings and the books, asking Varrick questions about them before putting all of them into a bag she carried under her robes. According to Casper, they would be scrying and inspecting the rings to figure out their origins.

Before leaving, the dungeon was inspected one final time. When Captain Edran was satisfied there was nothing left to salvage, the core was destroyed.

Rayne himself shattered the core with one lethal strike, mana bleeding out of it as the chamber shook.

Once it stabilised, they began the return march immediately.

As they walked through the forest, whispers and murmurs rippled through the ranks. Soldiers discussed the necromancer and the chimera, asking questions of his party about the battle.

Instead of dismissing the questions, his party reveled in the attention. At least some of them did.

Nate spoke loudly, reenacting moments of the battle with exaggerated gestures. Kesh chimed in, correcting details in his own favor, while Heins talked about his own run to the camp, thinking that he had left behind everyone to die.

By the third retelling, Rayne was certain the chimera had doubled in size and the number of undead had tripled.

He would have liked to join them.

Instead, Casper walked beside him.

She asked question after question about his new mana skill—when he had gotten it, how difficult it was to control, whether he had sensed a backlash afterward. Rayne answered as honestly as he could without revealing too much, careful with every word since they weren’t alone.

It wasn’t just the soldiers that were perking their ears to listen to him. He also felt Selene’s gaze linger on him quite a few times.

Even when she spoke quietly with Varrick, her attention drifted back to Rayne again and again. Whatever she was thinking or planning, he hoped it wouldn’t jeopardize his standing in the army now that he was finally making a place for himself.

Fortunately, they were back at the camp before she could approach him for questioning.

It was already night by the time the gates opened to let them through.

Captain Edran let Rayne and his party go, keeping Varrick behind to answer Commander Evan’s questions, and Rayne was more than happy to slip away to his tent.

He didn’t stop for food or give anyone time to ask questions. He went straight to his tent, removed his armor with slow, tired movements, and collapsed onto his cot.

The moment his head touched the fabric, sleep claimed him.

***

Rayne woke with the taste of dust and blood still clinging to the back of his tongue.

Kesh lay on his left and didn’t seem like he was going to be waking up anytime soon. If Rayne had to guess, the man had slept late after the soldiers had treated him, urging him to tell stories about the battle with the necromancer.

Rayne glanced at him before turning on his cot, letting the sleep fade away completely as fragments of yesterday’s battle replayed themselves unbidden in his mind. He kept thinking about what he could have done differently.

The necromancer herself hadn’t been that strong. He knew that now. Dangerous, yes, but she had no attacks of her own and relied on her artifacts. The chimera, on the other hand…

Rayne exhaled slowly.

That thing had been terrifying.

Even without fighting it directly, he could still remember the pressure of its presence, the way its tendrils had flailed through the air. He wondered, not for the first time, whether [Death Strike] would have done anything meaningful against it.

Varrick had struggled against it, despite all his strength and skill. However, Varrick’s class was clearly built to tank attacks, not to skewer through his opponent. Yet he had done well against the chimera.

Rayne didn’t care about him, but could he have done the same? Could he have killed the chimera alone?

With his inflated stats, he could probably hold his ground for a while. Long enough to look for weaknesses and frustrate the monster. But winning? That would have required him to lean heavily on [Death Strike].

And that thought unsettled him.

He still hadn’t mastered it well, and although the skill was powerful, it was unstable. Rayne couldn’t rely on breaking ceilings to win every time.

Rayne swung his legs off the cot and sat up, rubbing his face. He tore off a strip of jerky, chewing absently as he mulled it over. Whatever the answer was, one thing was clear—thinking about it wouldn’t make him stronger.

Training would.

He finished the jerky, strapped on his boots and basic gear, then slipped out of the tent. The camp was already stirring, soldiers moving about with sleepy efficiency, swapping shifts and grumbling about duties.

Rayne kept his head down as he moved toward the gates. He didn’t have any orders for the day, and he was sure he would simply be thrown into guard duty later.

A few hours of absence wouldn’t hurt anyone.

But as he neared the exit, he slowed.

Casper was standing there.

She leaned against one of the wooden posts near the gate, arms crossed loosely, her expression unreadable. When Rayne raised an eyebrow at her, she didn’t explain. She only straightened, turned toward the open path beyond the camp, and gestured with two fingers.

“Follow me.”

Before he could say a word, she was already walking.

Rayne hesitated for half a heartbeat, then followed. The guards on duty gave him odd looks as they passed through, but no one stopped them. Casper kept a steady pace, leading him away from the camp and toward the forest near the hills.

It was only after they had put a good distance between themselves and the tents that she finally spoke.

“I heard you tend to go out early in the mornings,” she said casually, eyes forward. “So I assumed you were heading into the forest to practice with your new mana skill. I would have asked you earlier, but I’ve been busy taking care of the hibernating monsters.”

Rayne wasn’t surprised that Casper had been keeping tabs on him.

It wasn’t as if he’d been particularly subtle about sneaking out every morning with his sword. But the mention of the hibernating monsters made him pause.

“How many more did you all kill?” he asked as they walked between the trees.

Casper didn’t look back. “A few.”

There was a beat of silence. Then her pace slowed just a fraction.

“But there were three we couldn’t find,” she added calmly. “We’re still searching.”

Rayne frowned. “You think they were taken by the necromancer and became chimeras?”

She shook her head immediately. “We don’t know. And I don’t think you should worry about it.”

He glanced at her sideways.

“Even if there are more chimeras roaming around,” Casper continued, “the Crown’s Hand will deal with them. More than likely, the monsters just changed their resting grounds. It happens often when a place becomes unsuitable, or they simply want to sleep somewhere else.”

Rayne nodded, even if a part of him didn’t fully believe it. His luck had already pushed him into facing two chimeras. He really didn’t want to test how many more the world had lined up for him.

But he didn’t voice his concerns.

They slowly walked up to a small clearing on flat ground before Casper stopped and turned to face him.

“Either way,” she said, folding her arms, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about monsters. I wanted to see your mana skill myself. Although you are doing well, I know you don’t have any formal training with mana.”

Rayne straightened slightly.

“Have you opened any new pathways since the last time?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

That part was true. But he didn’t mention that it was mostly because he hadn’t had the time recently. With his recent stats in Arcane, he was sure he could open another pathway or two.

The pressure behind his sternum and along his right arm had also been building more consistently every time he called on death mana.

Casper studied him for a moment, then nodded and pointed past him.

“Aim there,” she said. “Just launch a strike.”

Rayne followed her finger. A thick, dead tree stood at the edge of the clearing, its bark split and grey, the trunk scarred by what looked like old lightning strikes.

He moved without another word.

Rayne took out his sword and settled into a familiar stance, feet grounding against the soil. He slowed his breathing, letting the forest fade away as he reached inward.

Death mana answered.

It crept out of him in thin, icy threads, flowing down his arm and into the blade. The steel darkened as black veins crawled across its surface, the air around it growing unnaturally still.

He let the mana cover the whole blade before exhaling and swinging.

An arc of dark mana tore through the air and struck the trunk dead in the center.

Parts of the trunk exploded outward as the mana bit through it, leaving behind a large hole in the middle. Rayne frowned, having wanted to split the tree in half, but the strike hadn’t been enough.

When he turned to look at Casper, she stared at the trunk with a blank expression.

Casper didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

She studied the ruined tree, then turned her attention back to Rayne’s sword. Her gaze lingered on the blackened veins still fading from the steel before she finally looked up at him.

“That wasn’t bad,” she said.

Rayne felt a flicker of relief—only for her to continue.

“But it was shoddy.”

The word landed heavier than he expected. He knew he still hadn’t mastered the skill, but it still stung.

Casper tilted her head slightly. “You don’t have a [Mana Manipulation] skill, do you?”

Rayne slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Why?”

She exhaled softly, as if she had expected that answer. “Why don’t we sit first? This is going to take a while to explain.”

She gestured toward two flat stones near the edge of the clearing. Rayne followed her, and they both sat down, with him facing her.

“Let me show you something,” she said, and the very next second, mana flowed into her open palm.

Rayne leaned forward.

A spell matrix formed above Casper’s skin. Lines of pure mana intersected and curved in layered patterns, rotating slowly, each segment glowing faintly in an intricate and precise way.

He’d seen spells cast before, but never this close.

As he watched, the matrix shifted. The rotating structure dissolved and reformed, mana stretching and becoming something completely different.

A heartbeat later, a chain of flames manifested in the air in front of Casper—each link burning steadily, suspended without smoke or drift, and radiating controlled heat.

“You’ve seen this spell before, haven’t you?” Casper asked without looking away from it.

Rayne nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Do you know how I’m able to form it?”

“By the spell matrix,” he replied after a second.

She smiled faintly. “Yes. But look deeper. At its base—at the base of any spell—what I’m doing is simple [Mana Manipulation]. I’m giving raw mana a shape and aspect.”

She raised her palm slightly, and the flaming chain shifted, links tightening and loosening as if breathing.

“The matrix exists to calculate,” Casper continued. “How much mana flows. What shape it takes. How it maintains structure. All of it rests on one foundation—control. And that comes from [Mana Manipulation].”

Rayne nodded slowly. “So, it’s possible because you have the [Mana Manipulation] skill?”

“Yes,” Casper said without hesitation. “Every mage has it. Every spellblade too. Even ritual-focused wizards have the skill. It forms the foundation of every spell and mana-based skill.”

The more he listened, the more Rayne realized how wrong he had been in tackling [Death Strike].

Compared to how Casper formed the chains, his strike was horribly simple—death mana flooding out, crude and forceful, barely held together long enough for him to launch it.

Casper lowered her hand, dismissing the spell.

“There are cases,” she continued, “where the gods grant a mana skill to someone without them having [Mana Manipulation]. But it’s still advised—strongly advised—to learn it. Without it, any mana you project outside your body will suffer heavy waste.”

She glanced at his sword. “When you enveloped your blade just now, over thirty percent of the mana leaked straight into the atmosphere.”

Rayne stiffened. “That much?”

“Yes. And death mana is particularly volatile. It doesn’t like staying still. It resists structure, so you need to practice your control over it.”

Rayne felt like frowning, but he controlled his expression. No wonder he had never been able to use [Death Strike] repeatedly for long. He had been wasting mana by not being able to control his spell.

“So how do I get [Mana Manipulation]?” Rayne asked quietly. “How do I learn to control it?”

Casper’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “That’s why I brought you here.”

She leaned forward and held out her hand.

“Let’s start simple,” she said. “Why don’t we start with calling mana out in your palm?”