“…Dorian.”
I fiddled with my teacup. He answered me in a gentle voice.
“Yes, Rohela.”
A flush of embarrassment suddenly rose to my face. I slowly tried to calm myself and spoke.
“There’s actually something I haven’t told you.”
The duke nodded silently. Then he lifted his teacup.
I suppose that meant I should go ahead and speak.
Our eyes met.
“I was born without mana in my body. So if I can’t obtain mana from the surroundings, I slowly die.”
I recalled my life before meeting Lewin—moments where everything seemed colorless.
The scent of the tea at the tip of my nose felt unexpectedly sweet.
“Fortunately, I had a high mana affinity, so I could survive, but before meeting Lewin… could that even be called a life?”
Dorian listened silently. That in itself gave me courage.
I spoke each word clearly, deliberately.
“You asked how I knew Lewin had mana. When I met him, I could feel the sunset again after such a long time. The wind carrying the scent of grass, the warmth of stew, the laughter of a child…”
Thinking back to the day I met Lewin, the corners of my lips lifted involuntarily. I lowered my gaze to the orange-colored tea and stirred it absentmindedly with a teaspoon.
“I can’t tell you how I knew that the Duchy of Brecht flows with mana-rich blood, but I had no intention of harming Lewin.”
To explain this, I’d have to mention the original novel. I couldn’t go that far. Who would believe that the world they live in is actually a story?
And now, this world had become real for me as well.
I had earned trust by narrowly escaping death, but if I looked like a madwoman now, all that would be for nothing.
If I made a clumsy excuse or told the truth, it might even arouse more suspicion.
Even if he didn’t believe me right away or had doubts, I had to steer the conversation to a new topic he couldn’t probe further.
I chose my words carefully.
“I said I have a high mana affinity… Could you perhaps give me your hand?”
I looked up at Dorian. His gaze met mine, unflinching.
I was slightly scared, but I tried to maintain my composure. Fortunately, he soon extended his hand.
I took it.
A gentle breeze brushed past the table where we sat. I closed my eyes and focused on the mana rising from his body.
It was like a vast, undulating cloth, yet somewhere within it, there was a thread that formed the beginning of that cloth.
I finally caught hold of its end.
A strong resistance surged in my stomach. But then it slowly stabilized. I confirmed that the mana moved according to my will.
And I wished.
‘Show us hope.’
Hope that I could survive, that Lewin would not die, that Dorian would not fall.
“This is…”
I opened my eyes at Dorian’s low voice and gasped in awe.
Tiny, white lights adorned the space around us like stars.
Even though we were in a greenhouse in broad daylight, the light was so brilliant that everything else seemed dim by comparison.
“How…”
Dorian stared blankly at the lights before meeting my gaze again. My throat tightened, and I had to clear it several times.
I barely managed to speak.
“…Affinity can also be described as receptivity. Normally, humans don’t possess strong receptivity like the Algoy stone… but I seem to have receptivity even surpassing stone.”
I remembered the professor mentioning unusually high affinity before. If I could even break Algoy stone, my affinity must indeed exceed it.
Dorian didn’t respond immediately. He seemed lost in thought.
Our hands remained clasped, warm. I felt the sweat of nervousness on my palms.
‘His hands are so big…’
Through the tips of my fingers, I felt the heat and slight roughness of his calloused skin. I instinctively tightened my grip but immediately relaxed it.
I felt his pulse at my fingertips. I couldn’t tell whose it was.
Time seemed to stand still.
“…I’ve never encountered such power before.”
Finally, Dorian spoke. But he didn’t seem to intend to pull away. His gaze scanned the remaining floating lights around us.
“No magical tool could achieve this. The physical domain in which one can carve a path is limited.”
“That’s true.”
I answered awkwardly, and Dorian fell silent again.
Fortunately, he seemed more impressed by the situation than suspicious of my words.
After all, at twenty, everything new is still wondrous. I suddenly felt embarrassed, realizing I was holding his hand.
A magical tool.
Now that I thought about it, what exactly did I swallow?
Listening to Dorian, it was clear that the magical tool and my ability were separate.
Considering he’s the duke, he might already know or have heard something about the magical tool I swallowed.
Scarlett’s warning about losing consciousness lingered in my mind. I hesitated before speaking.
“I have a question.”
“I can’t provide any insight into your constitution, Rohela,” he said.
“No, it’s not that. It’s about Scarlett in that room…”
Dorian’s eyes gleamed at my words. He, too, must have been curious about why Scarlett had aimed the scalpel at me.
“Scarlett made me swallow a dice-like magical tool. Do you have any idea what it might be?”
“A dice?”
“A cube, without numbers, but with unusual markings. Very small, seemed made of brass.”
Dorian’s face paled. His hand, holding mine, tightened.
I winced slightly at the sudden pain, but he didn’t even notice, clearly flustered by what he had just heard.
“You mean she made you swallow that?”
“Yes. As you can see, it didn’t function, though.”
I could feel his confusion. I answered nonchalantly, hoping to calm him.
“That… how did she…?”
But Dorian showed no sign of calming down. His face shifted colors constantly—shock, anger, and a hint of disgust.
He seemed more shaken than I expected.
I squeezed his hand firmly to snap him out of it. One hand wasn’t enough, so I used both.
Then, looking him in the eye, I spoke clearly, word by word.
“I’m fine. Completely fine. The magical tool didn’t work. Maybe my unique constitution nullified it. I’m stronger than Algoy stone, after all.”
I drew in a breath and asked him again.
“What I’m curious about is what exactly that magical tool’s function is.”
Gradually, Dorian’s grip loosened. His eyes, once tempestuous, regained calm.
Yet he didn’t answer immediately. He moved his lips but hesitated, lowering his gaze.
“It’s okay.”
Perhaps it was related to the disgust that had crossed his face. I urged gently.
Finally, Dorian began speaking, haltingly.
“…It’s a magical tool that overlays the opponent’s mana with one’s own. Before resistance forms, it accumulates mana over a long period to take over completely.”
Overlaying mana? My mind instinctively recalled the computer from my previous life. But this was different.
Hmm. I lack innate mana, so I need others’ mana to survive. I couldn’t understand why this would be detestable.
Fortunately, Dorian continued before I could question further.
“Most people have low mana affinity. If a large influx of another’s mana enters, they lose consciousness.”
I remembered learning at the academy that typical human mana affinity ranges from 5–20%.
I also recalled that the capacity of a person’s mana reservoir is innate, but the mana filling it is refined from natural mana through living and breathing.
I remembered that everyone’s mana wavelength differs.
“So… if someone is suddenly overlaid with massive amounts of another’s mana in a short time, what happens?”
“They become a puppet moving according to the will of the mana’s owner.”
I was right. The method was crude, though.
But even with overlay, the mana’s wavelength wouldn’t change. How would the person replenish the depleted mana?
“If the injected mana runs out…”
Before I could finish, Dorian answered.
“They die.”
“Ah…”
“They cannot refine natural mana to match another’s wavelength. If continuously supplied, they might survive, but with low affinity, the body gradually deteriorates and eventually dies.”
“So the reason I’m alive…”
“Must be because of your high mana affinity. Considering you had no existing mana, the magical tool’s mana was likely fully absorbed by you.”
After saying this, Dorian naturally withdrew his hand.
Even though it hadn’t been long, the breeze on my palm felt strange. I clenched and unclenched my own hand absentmindedly.
The firefly-like lights surrounding us vanished in an instant.
A strange tension rose slowly from the depths of my heart.
Dorian whispered my name.
“Rohela.”
A low voice settled in my ear.
I met his gaze.
With the floating lights gone, his red eyes looked even sharper.
Whether from tension or anticipation, my heartbeat began to quicken.
He continued.
“Let’s give it a try.”
