Manaless Mage
Chapter 330: Weak link

Chapter 330: Weak link

Harry kept his focus locked, weaving the threads of his will deeper into the core of Dani’s memory—but it was harder than he expected. Much harder.

The junction pulsed with instability, almost repelling his intent. Every time he tried to anchor the link, the threads slipped loose, scattering into the fog of memory like sand through fingers.

Harry frowned, sweat forming at his brow. Why is this so difficult? he thought. Leon made it look effortless...

He wasn’t just copying Leon’s method—he was following it exactly. The spiral-shaped energy compression, the threading, the targeting of emotional density points. He was doing everything right.

And yet—Dani’s mind refused to yield.

It buckled and strained, pushing against the intrusion like a door held shut from the inside. Even the tendrils of memory recoiled, as if aware of Harry’s presence and fighting it.

A familiar voice broke through the tension, calm and knowing.

[You’re pushing too hard,] Leon murmured within his mind. [You keep doing that, and you’ll either break the man... or get kicked out of his head entirely.]

Harry’s breathing slowed. He didn’t respond, but Leon went on.

[You’ve got the right structure, kid. But this isn’t a spell—it’s a connection. Be gentler. Ease your way in. The mind’s a delicate thing.]

Harry hesitated. Then exhaled.

’Fine.’ he thought.

Instead of latching on with brute intent, he let his energy coil and drift, brushing gently along the strands of Dani’s thoughts. He stopped forcing. Instead, he waited—patiently—for the memory junction to accept the link.

And, slowly... it did.

The resistance lessened. The fragmented pieces of Dani’s mind stopped retreating. The fog began to clear, and Harry’s energy anchored into place like silk settling into water.

A pulse.

Then another.

The link was formed.

But it was fragile—tenuous at best. Like a wire stretched thin between two cliffs. One wrong move, and it would snap.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t afford that.

He pushed more of his will into the tether, feeding it strength, solidifying the connection one breath at a time. The thread began to thicken. Stabilize.

Until—

Something snapped.

Harry jolted.

His breath caught in his throat, and in an instant, the memory collapsed like a punctured sphere, and the world shifted around him.

He was suddenly pulled out of Dani’s mind, and his eyes widened in shock.

The familiar scent of ashes and fire filled his nostrils, and the ruined forest appeared within his vision once again.

Harry stumbled a step back and gasped, his entire body suddenly heavy. His heart hammered against his ribs. His lungs screamed for air, cold sweat dripping down his temple.

A sharp chime rang in his ears as a glowing notification appeared in front of him:

[—7800 Energy Points]

His jaw clenched. "What?"

That much energy, for a link that took mere seconds?

He stared at the flickering prompt, stunned. It had taken so much—and yet felt like he’d failed.

Still panting, Harry turned his gaze back to Dani.

The man was still kneeling in the same spot. Back arched. Head bowed like a puppet with its strings cut. His breathing was shallow, but steady—his body locked in the same lifeless trance from before.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

’Did I get it? Or did I fail completely?’

He scowled, frustrated. That had felt like success. Even if only partial. But without confirmation, he couldn’t know for sure.

[Don’t beat yourself up,] Leon’s voice returned, laced with amusement. [You did better than you think. Observe closely, and you’ll see.]

Before Harry could respond, a notification flashed across his eyes.

[Skill level up!]

[Memory Manipulation now Level 3!]

Harry blinked.

Then—despite the weariness in his bones—a small grin tugged at the edge of his lips.

So he had made progress after all.

Harry’s breath had just steadied when he stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the motionless form of Dani Okvar.

The man still knelt like a lifeless doll, faint traces of sweat clinging to his brow, completely unaware of the delicate tether now planted inside his mind.

Harry crouched beside him.

Without hesitation, he reached out and placed a hand gently on Dani’s head once again. His fingers brushed through the man’s damp hair before settling, and he let his energy stir.

Almost instantly, he sensed it.

A small, swirling orb of blue light nestled within Dani’s consciousness—soft, delicate, and quietly pulsing with faint ripples. It looked almost like a wisp trapped inside a jar.

Harry’s smirk widened. ’There you are.’ he thought.

He focused more intently on the orb, reaching out to it with a thread of intent—and immediately, a new notification bloomed before his eyes:

[Memory Link]

[A link that allows you connect freely to one’s memories and experiences.]

[Strength: Weak]

The smirk vanished when he read through the notification.

’Weak?’ Harry thought, frowning. ’The connection is... weak?’

His brows drew together as he examined the orb more closely. The more he studied it, the more the differences between his and Leon’s version became painfully clear.

Leon’s memory links had been anchored, strong and fluid—like thick cords woven deep into the target’s psyche.

However his... this was frail. Translucent. The energy thinned out near the edges, like a flame that could be snuffed with a breath.

Harry hissed under his breath. ’Tch. How annoying.’

Leon’s voice rose again in his mind, calm as ever.

[That link is good enough. It might not last too long, but you got at least three used before it fades off.]

Harry’s eye twitched. ’Three? Just three uses...?’ he thought, his brows furrowing.

That wasn’t good enough.

Three times wasn’t nearly enough for what he wanted to accomplish. He didn’t just want glimpses—he needed continuity.

Having three uses meant he would have to think about the best time to link himself to the adventurer, which might not play out to his advantage.

A full stream of insight into the dark guild’s inner workings, into Veiss, into their next move.

Still... it was something.

A starting point.

He couldn’t afford to waste it.

’Fine,’ he thought. ’I’ll manage.’