Heir Of The Supreme
Chapter 63: A Weakling’s Resolve (2)

Chapter 63: A Weakling’s Resolve (2)

Blaine lifted his head, eyeing the approaching creature with cold resolve. The Rank-3 dagger Cecelia had given him produced a potent, fast-acting analgesic when infused with mana.

That was precisely why Blaine had left it embedded in the creature’s arm.

As he dodged the creature’s attacks, Blaine continuously channelled more mana into it, utilizing it as a makeshift syringe to flood the Unknown’s body with poison.

However... The fast-acting toxins weren’t fast enough.

If Blaine had just another minute, he could have taken it down without as much as suffering a single wound.

However, his plans fell apart the moment the creature shifted its focus to Cecelia, forcing Blaine to act.

Since Blaine couldn’t let her die, he was forced to take the blow instead.

The monstrous Unknown loomed over the young Lionheart, its grotesque, tendril-like tongue flailing weakly in the air, twitching as if sensing its prey’s dwindling strength.

It then proceeded to lift one of its clawed seven-toed feet in the air, preparing to bring it down on Blaine’s skull, smashing it into a bloody paste.

But just as the killing blow was about to land, the creature suddenly stumbled backward.

A flicker of surprise crossed Unknown’s mishappen face as its bestial body wavered.

It tilted its head in sluggish confusion, struggling to understand what had just happened.

Then... The creature’s nine frantically darting eyes locked onto the trembling figure of a girl standing in its shadow.

The girl’s hands visibly shook as they clutched a razor-sharp dagger, its blade slick with dark, ash-grey blood.

Cecelia’s hands trembled and her breath came in ragged gasps, but her eyes... Had changed.

The usual uncertainty that plagued her gaze was gone. Instead, her pupils burned with cold, unflinching resolve.

The creature’s body, already numbed by the poison coursing through it, fell to the ground with a thud.

It tried to stand up again but soon realized it couldn’t.

Its Achilles tendons were cut.

While the creature weakly flailed in its futile endeavour, Cecelia took an unsteady step forward, the dagger gripped tightly in her trembling hands.

Almost every part of her mind screamed at her to run... To flee from this abomination that had nearly killed them both. But deep in the corner of her mind... She heard a voice telling her to do the opposite.

To not run away nor cower in fear, but instead to stand her ground and fight.

Right... She still had a job to do.

Standing over the creature, mirroring its position over Blaine just moments before, she steadied herself and tightened her grip on the dagger.

As the blade glimmered sharply under the reflected azure light, Cecelia took a deep breath and raised her arms high... And plunged the weapon straight into the creature’s chest.

A fountain of ash-grey blood sprayed out, staining her hands and splattering across her face and clothes.

The monster let out a weak convulsion, its body twitching slightly from the impact.

But it was only an involuntary response.

The neurotoxin had already rendered it numb to any sort of sensation, pain included.

Yet, Cecelia wasn’t done. In fact, she was just getting started.

With a guttural cry, she wrenched the dagger free from the tight grip of the Unknown’s muscles and then slammed it back down.

Again and again. Each strike sent another spray of viscous, grey fluid into the air, coating Cecelia’s skin and soaking her sleeves.

However, she couldn’t care less about her physical appearance at the moment.

As she furiously stabbed at the monster, something changed inside Cecelia. However, the girl herself wasn’t yet privy to it.

The wet, sickening squelch of metal tearing through flesh rang in her ears like a deranged melody.

By now, the Unknown was already long dead, but Cecelia didn’t stop.

No... She couldn’t stop.

Her mind was a whirlwind of self-loathing, anger, frustration, and desperation.

Why was she always so weak? Why was she always the burden?

Her feelings of self-contempt and powerlessness twisted into pure rage.

She was done being the damsel in distress.

Screw being helpless... Screw being useless...

She had had enough!

If the gods wanted to torment her by denying her a Mana Core, so be it!

She would have to just find other ways to get stronger.

No matter what it took, she would never again allow herself to feel powerless!

Cecelia’s furious assault reached a frenzied peak. She was barely aware of her surroundings anymore, scarcely aware of her own body.

Her arm ached, her fingers numbed under the sheer force of her grip, but she didn’t care.

She only stopped when her dagger struck something hard, a round orb buried within the monster’s chest.

It was the Unknown’s Mana Core.

The moment her blade shattered the delicate crystalline structure, a sudden, powerful surge erupted from within. A wave of raw, untamed mana flooded the air, washing over her in an invisible storm.

It surged through her, reaching the depths of her very being, before coiling around something deep inside her... Something that had not been there before.

A small, newly formed black orb... A Mana Core.

It was only then that Cecelia’s mad assault finally came to a sudden halt.

As a semblance of clarity appeared in her murky eyes, Cecelia looked at her blood-soaked body in confusion.

A slow, incredulous whisper escaped her lips.

"...What?"

Cecelia froze, her eyes widening as the realization dawned upon her.

A unique sensation enveloped Cecelia’s body... It felt strange, as though it was somehow foreign, yet familiar.

It was impossible to describe, like trying to explain the concept of sight to the blind or sound to the deaf.

However, she could feel it with every fibre of her being.

"Is this... Mana?"

It was all around her, omnipresent... Flowing, shifting, and pulsing energy that she had never been able to sense before.

And now... it was part of her as well.

Trembling, she lifted a hand, almost afraid that the moment she acknowledged it, it would disappear.

Yet as she instinctively willed the energy forward, a soft white glow flickered in her palm, illuminating the dim underground chamber.

Her Mana Art.

Her very own Mana Art.

"I... I did it," Cecelia breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m... a 1-Star."

She looked down at her blood-soaked hands, at the mangled corpse beneath her, and a strange mix of relief, disbelief, and horror twisted inside her.

She had killed this thing.

Not alone, of course. Most of the damage had been done by Blaine.

Claiming it as her kill when she simply dealt it the finishing blow would be the pinnacle of shamelessness.

But still... Cecelia had been the one to land the final blow.

A feat no ordinary human should have been able to achieve against a Rank-2 monster.

As these thoughts raced through her mind, Cecelia suddenly remembered something, or to be precise... Someone.

Slowly, she turned her head and saw Blaine staring blankly at her.

His mask-like expression was still in place, but his usual unreadable eyes now held something different. Surprise? Confusion? Perhaps even a hint of... Wariness?

It was then that Cecelia became fully aware of her current appearance.

Her clothes were drenched in ash-grey blood. Her hands trembled around the hilt of a similarly blood-soaked dagger. Her hair clung to her skin in damp, dishevelled strands.

She must have looked like a deranged killer out of a low-budget slasher film.

Cecelia’s face burned red with embarrassment as she hurriedly scrambled off the monster’s corpse, putting as much distance between her and the gruesome remains as possible.

As if trying to sever any connection between her earlier gruesome actions and herself.

Since the threat was taken care of... It was about time they tended to Blaine’s injuries.