Early in the morning, the sun peeked through the clouds, its warm rays and the gently shifting air whispering of a season where life began to bud anew. Birdsong fluttered in through the cracked window. It felt as if the birds’ voices danced in delight as they feasted on the insects drawn to the glow of the streetlights.
I had been up since dawn, sitting at the edge of my bed, lost in deep thought as golden morning light shone across the floor. My concern: How can I die quickly, cleanly, and efficiently?
To anyone else, this would sound like the desperate ramblings of someone at the edge of a depressive spiral, but for me, it was a surprisingly serious and practical concern.
I first thought about the method I used the most: lopping off my head. Doing it every time wasn’t exactly efficient. Sure, once I got the hang of it, triggering the Blessing of Resurrection didn’t require much effort, which alone made it a powerful asset. However, it was way too flashy.
It was fine when I was in my dorm room, but it wouldn’t work as well out in the open, like during that outdoor training session. If I had to cut off my head in public just to activate the blessing, and someone witnessed my head rolling on the ground and then reattaching itself, that would be the end.In that case, I wouldn’t be able to keep the Blessing of Resurrection a secret anymore, which would mean losing one of the few trump cards I had for real combat.
Even if it’ll get revealed someday, I’d rather keep it hidden for as long as I can, I thought.
The last thing I wanted was to avoid the foolish mistake of getting caught while carelessly cultivating my mana. So, I needed a faster, cleaner method than decapitation. Another option came to mind: Poison.
In my previous life, I had used it quite often to trigger the blessing in emergencies. Like some trained assassin, I used to carry a capsule of poison hidden in my mouth. However, the issue with that was finding a toxin strong enough to kill a hero instantly. Furthermore, I would need to use it four times a day.
Scratch that. Poison’s off the table, I thought.
If it came down to that, I would rather risk hiding somewhere and slicing my neck than going through the hassle and danger of using lethal toxins.
As I turned over options in my mind, one idea flickered like a spark in the dark. If not poison, then what about... Mana Bullet.
It was a basic spell that used concentrated mana and fired it like a projectile. It was so elementary that even first-year Mage Division cadets could use it. By creating a Mana Bullet inside my body, I could blow up my heart or brain to trigger the blessing easily.
If Senior Sophia were to hear that idea, she would probably call it the most absurd nonsense ever. Even though Mana Bullet was beginner-level magic, creating one inside the body was an entirely different challenge from casting it normally. It was because mana, by its very nature, tended to dwell within the body.
Like how paper absorbed water, the moment I tried to form a Mana Bullet inside my body, it would just diffuse and be reabsorbed back into my body. To prevent that, I would have to make the Mana Bullet extremely small, so small that it wouldn’t even touch the meridians that channeled mana, commonly known as the energy network.
Plus, despite being that small, it still needs to pack enough punch to obliterate a vital organ like the heart or brain, I thought.
Honestly, it was more theory than practical magic. It wasn’t just difficult; it was nearly impossible. Making something the size of a finger was already hard. But creating a Mana Bullet smaller than a grain of rice? Still, I felt like it was worth trying.
It wasn’t arrogance. It wasn’t pride. Out of all the skills I had honed in my past life, manipulating small amounts of mana with precise control was the one thing I could do better than anyone else. Better than Berald, better than Senior Sophia, better than Iris, and even better than Yuren.
To be precise, they never needed to bother doing it. Mana poured out of them like a bottomless fountain, so they never had to count every drop of it. Just like how a millionaire wouldn’t budget down to the last coin for every meal, when it came to mana, they never had to worry about efficiency or delicate control like me.
Let’s just give it a shot, I decided.
Worst case, I would fail and still live. I slowly drew in a breath, focusing entirely on the soul stigmata on my chest. Gently pulling out a tiny thread of mana, I tried to shape it into a Mana Bullet inside my body’s energy network.
The first attempt failed, and the mana was reabsorbed into my body before a Mana Bullet even formed. “Urgh.”
I then imagined a single dot, so tiny it couldn’t even be seen with the naked eye.
Smaller. Think smaller...It’s still not enough.
In the second try, it formed but dissolved quickly. I realized that the shape had to be a little smaller, more precise, and sharper.
I continued with the third, fourth, and fifth attempts. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my shirt clung uncomfortably to my body, soaked through. Was it from the mental strain? My head throbbed as blood dripped from my nose. “Guhhh! Just a bit more!”
Then, after what must’ve been hours, it worked. I had done it. I had successfully created and maintained a Mana Bullet within my energy network.
Now, just like this...
Like aiming a gun, I targeted my heart and fired. The next instant, agonizing pain exploded through my chest, like a fire had erupted inside me, but the Blessing of Resurrection didn’t activate.
“Is there not enough power?”
I had successfully created a Mana Bullet, but failed to make it powerful enough to instantly rupture the heart.
Still, this showed that it was possible. If I could perfect this technique, I would be able to activate the Blessing of Resurrection whenever I wanted in a much faster, cleaner, and more efficient way than ever before.
The benefits of this new suicide method weren’t limited to just being able to die unnoticed. It could also compensate for the major weakness of the Blessing of Resurrection.
The Blessing of Resurrection was a miraculous power that activated the moment I suffered a fatal wound, instantly regenerating any injury, no matter how severe. Whether I was hacked into pieces or burned into ash, as long as the blessing activated, my body would regenerate from the soul stigmata at its core.
This also meant that if the wound wasn’t fatal, it wouldn’t activate at all. In other words, while critical spots like the head or heart would regenerate the moment they were destroyed, limbs like arms or legs wouldn’t grow back unless the injury was enough to actually kill me. That was why I kept poison hidden in my mouth in my past life.
If my limbs were severed and I couldn’t even bite my tongue—and from experience, even that wasn’t guaranteed to kill you—I would be stuck, unable to trigger the blessing at all. But if I could end my life with a Mana Bullet in that kind of situation, then the blessing would immediately activate, and I would regenerate any lost limbs without delay.
I let out a dry chuckle, thinking back to the desperate days when I had relied on poison as a last resort to activate the blessing.
If I can just perfect this technique, I won’t have to keep poison in my mouth anymore, I thought.
I had pushed myself so hard that I was bleeding from the nose. There was no way I could keep concentrating like this. Controlling such a small amount of mana with precision was far more draining than I had imagined. So, I said to myself, “Anyway, I think I’ll stop here for today.”
It was like engraving letters onto a grain of rice, physically minuscule but mentally exhausting. Since the amount of mana being controlled was very small, it required absolute precision and focus, which in turn consumed an incredible amount of mental energy.
“Well then, how about some physical training to finish the day?” I had wrecked my mind, now it was time to wreck my body. That was the plan, at least, as I headed toward the training ground.
Suddenly, a clear notification chime rang from my Hero Watch, and a message appeared on the screen.
Professor Bastion: The prototype is ready. Come by the lab when you’re free.
If I asked which prototype he meant, it would have just made me look dumb.
Dale: On my way.
Looks like I have to put off wrecking my body for a bit, I thought.
* * *
As always, Professor Bastion’s lab was so messy I couldn’t tell if it was a lab or a disaster zone.
Professor Bastion looked at me and said, “You’re here.”
“Yes, Professor,” I replied.
He held out a glass vial filled with a vivid blue liquid that looked like melted sapphire. “This is the prototype of the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion. Drink it, and your soul stigmata will instantly enter an overdrive state, generating mana at a rapid rate.”
“How long does it last?”
“About five minutes. After that...”
“There will be side effects, right?”
“Exactly.” The professor stroked his unkempt beard and continued. “Once the five minutes are up, your energy network will begin to twist and collapse. Death will follow almost immediately.”
“I don’t mind,” I replied nonchalantly.
“Are you sure about this?” His voice carried genuine concern.
“If your Blessing of Resurrection doesn’t activate properly, you’ll die for real,” he added.
“Didn’t I already show you it works?”
If he wanted, I could show him again. A dozen times, if need be.
“Alright. I trust you.” With a heavy sigh, Professor Bastion resumed his explanation. “Under the assumption that your Blessing of Resurrection functions properly, I didn’t take side effects into account. I focused purely on maximizing the temporary increase in mana.”
“Sounds good.”
“But... This prototype only increases your mana by a small amount. If we put a figure to the theoretical maximum boost from a Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion at a hundred percent, this one’s around thirty percent.”
“Why is that?”
If side effects weren’t being factored in and the formula still only yielded thirty percent of the expected result, something had to be wrong.
“We’re short on a key ingredient,” he explained.
“Something that even a million gold can’t buy?”
“Ah, no, I phrased that poorly. It’s not that the ingredient is missing; it’s that the quality is too low.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a withered flower. “This is the Seven Star Herb.”
“I know of it.”
This flower was said to be blessed by all the Seven Gods, and it had even been designated the national flower of the Holy Empire.
“But isn’t Seven Star Herb pretty common?” I asked.
“Indeed, you’re correct.”
In fact, it was common enough to be found growing among roadside weeds if one looked hard enough.
“However, finding a Seven Star Herb that contains mana is a different story. It is so rare that finding it is nearly impossible even if you have the money.”
“I see...”
I was starting to think we might just have to settle for the thirty percent version when Professor Bastion said, “That’s why I’d like you to go and find a Seven Star Herb that’s rich with mana.”
It was a suggestion I never saw coming.