Rebecca’s excited energy vanished in an instant, the sight of Luthra’s large hand moving slowly toward her face flipping a switch deep within her mind. Her world narrowed to that single, approaching hand, a shape she knew all too well, and the cheerful, chattering child was gone, replaced by something cold and still.
’No... not again,’ her mind screamed, the memory of a different hand, a different room, crashing down on her, ’I won’t let you. Not this time.’
Before Luthra’s fingers could touch her, she snatched his wrist out of the air, her small hand closing around it with a strength that was utterly impossible. The grip was not that of a child, it was like a set of iron bands suddenly contracting around his bones.
The pressure was immense, and Luthra felt a sharp, grinding pain as his wrist bones began to creak. He tried to pull his arm back instinctively, but it would not budge, it was locked in place by the ten-year-old girl.
The butler took a single step forward, his professional calm finally breaking, ’Lord Moria’s guest!’
Rebecca looked up at Luthra, but she was not seeing him anymore. Her eyes were fixed on the face of a ghost, her voice was a low snarl that did not belong to a child, "You’re not going to touch me anymore, Dad."
Luthra channeled a minuscule amount of his core’s negative energy into her hand, the original purpose of his reckless test. The instant the void-like energy touched her, it acted as a key in a lock. Deep within her soul, a mana circle that had been dormant and silent for her entire life roared into existence, flaring with the violent, uncontrolled energy of a supernova.
A shockwave of raw, chaotic magical power erupted from her small body, blasting outward through the room. The water in the porcelain tub sloshed over the sides, the windows rattled in their frames, and the two maids cried out, stumbling backward against the wall.
Rebecca screamed, but it was not a scream of pain, it was a roar of pure, unadulterated fury and newfound power, "I’LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU THIS TIME!"
Her grip on his wrist tightened even further, and he felt a sharp, cracking sensation. His bones were beginning to fracture. He was trapped, his arm held captive by a small child who had just awakened as a hunter, her mind lost in a haze of trauma and rage.
’Ah, so the abuse from her father... that was the catalyst. Her power didn’t just activate now, it exploded.’
’This is a problem, though, her mana is completely out of control. A direct blow, even a light one, could rupture her internal organs. I need to disable her without causing permanent damage.’
Alfred moved, his years of training as a hunter taking over as he lunged forward, his hand shaped into a rigid blade aimed at the girl’s shoulder, intending to strike a pressure point and force her to release her grip.
"Don’t," Luthra commanded, his voice perfectly level, and the butler froze in his tracks, his hand hovering in the air.
With his right arm still trapped in Rebecca’s unbreakable hold, he brought his free hand up, not in a fist, but with his index and middle fingers extended. He ignored the immense pressure on his fracturing wrist and, with a speed that was impossible to follow, jabbed those two fingers precisely into the junction between her neck and collarbone.
There was no impact, no sound.
Rebecca’s eyes rolled back into her head, her body went completely limp, and the immense strength vanished from her hand. Her grip loosened, and she collapsed forward.
He caught her small, unconscious body with his good arm before she could hit the floor, cradling her against his chest as he straightened up. He looked down at his other wrist, which was now swelling rapidly and bent at an unnatural angle.
Alfred slowly lowered his hand, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed.
A few hours later, Rebecca woke up, sitting up in a large, comfortable bed in a room she did not recognize.
"Whoa! Where am I? Is this a princess room?"
Luthra was sitting in a chair across the room, his left wrist, swollen and discolored, resting in his lap. He looked over at her, his expression as flat as ever.
"You’re in the guest quarters of Moria’s mansion. You passed out."
Her eyes went wide. She threw the thick blanket off, "Passed out? Did it work?! Do I have magic now?! Am I an awakened hunter?!"
"Yes," he confirmed, his voice unchanging, "But it is a problem."
"A problem?! How is having magic a problem?! This is the best day of my life!"
Just then, the door opened and Alfred entered the room, carrying a tray with a medical kit, a pitcher of water, and some food. He placed the tray on a small table.
"The young lady is awake, I see. Lord Moria sends his compliments. He also sent instructions for me to explain your current predicament."
Alfred looked at Rebecca, his face impassive, "Young lady, you have undergone what the Association classifies as a ’Rogue Mana Awakening’. It is an exceptionally rare and dangerous phenomenon where a dormant mana circle activates spontaneously and violently, usually triggered by extreme physical or emotional distress. Your mana is currently unstable and completely uncontrolled. It is, for all intents and purposes, a bomb inside your body. Any strong emotion could cause it to detonate, with fatal consequences."
Rebecca, who had been bouncing on the bed, stopped moving, "A bomb? So, if I get really, really happy, I might explode? That’s kind of a bummer."
Luthra looked at his own broken wrist, then back at her, ’A Rogue Awakening. Of course. It couldn’t just be simple.’
Alfred continued, his tone that of a lecturer, "Furthermore, because the awakening was tied to a negative emotional event, your mana has a high probability of manifesting a ’Path’ aligned with that trauma. In your case, a Path of Vengeance or Hatred is the most likely outcome. Such Paths are notoriously difficult to control and often lead the user to an early and violent end."
"So, what you’re saying is," Rebecca summarized, a thoughtful look on her face, "I’m a super-powerful, emotionally unstable time bomb of hate who is probably going to die really soon? That sounds... AWESOME! It’s the perfect backstory for a tragic hero!"
Alfred closed his eyes for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing his face, ’This child is a complete lunatic.’
He turned to Luthra, gesturing to the medical kit on the tray, "Lord Moria has provided these supplies for your injury. The splint is made from enchanted ironwood, and the healing salve is a C-rank concoction. It should mend the fractures within a day."
Luthra looked at the kit, then at his swollen, misshapen wrist.
He stood up, raised his broken left wrist, and brought his good right hand over, wrapping his fingers around it, and with a sudden motion, he clenched his fist, forcing the fractured bones back into alignment with a single application of pressure.
The sound was not loud, but it was distinct. Alfred, a seasoned B-Rank hunter in his own time, could not stop his eye from twitching, ’My word... He just... reset his own compound fracture with blunt force trauma. Does this boy not feel pain?’
Rebecca, however, jumped off the bed, her eyes sparkling, "WHOA! That was SO COOL! You just punched your own bones back into place! It made a little crunchy sound! Can you teach me how to do that?!"
He flexed his newly-realigned fingers, ignoring the searing pain that shot up his arm, "No. Now, what about the information on Silas?"