NOVEL NEXT Chapter 41: An Adjudicator’s binding chains
"So, Astraga, now that you know all of this, does that satisfy your curiosities?" Derrick asked, puffing his chest out like a man who'd just beaten an unbeatable boss and was itching to brag. He gave a small, satisfied smile. "I hope that helps you understand."
Then he straightened, his voice shifting back to business.
"Now, Astraga, I think it's time we addressed your major problems."
I wanted to sigh, to groan, to just sob at the thought of being lectured on everything I'd done wrong right after he'd celebrated his biggest success. "Yes, Derrick," I said with a weary sigh.
"One: you are being hunted down by a demon," he began, counting on his fingers. "Two: you are stuck in a child's body. And three: you are far away from both homes be it our previous world and your current home.
"But you're not without a chance, standing here in front of you, a founding father of the Ashborns. We're connected by blood, Astraga you are an Ashborn, don't forget it.
And even more, you're the only other one I know of here. Virtually making us family."
He let out a loud laugh. "It has been such a pleasure chatting with you.
Not only are we related by Ashborn blood, but also situational as we are both reincarnated from our previous world! Hahaha!
At this point, Astraga, you can think of me as an elder brother… or even a father."
"No, Derrick," I said, a playful smile on my face. "Perhaps a grandfather. I prefer that. Yep, sounds just about right." I chuckled.
His brow twitched at my last word. A familiar irritation pricked at him. Why couldn't the old man just admit his age? He always seemed to take it personally.
"Well, as I said before, I haven't really been favored by mana," I admitted. "I'm still stuck trying to figure out how to separate the individual mana types within me."
"I see. That will be a very difficult task," Derrick said, a look of understanding on his face. "And even after that, you'll still need to train to maximize your mana usage."
"Well, Derrick, I'm just not sure what to do. My initial plan backfired and teleported me here." I showed him the seal on my stomach.
He stared at it, his eyes flashing emerald, and he touched his chin in thought. "It appears the seal reacted to the fact there was no green mana present in your core," he said. "Seals are very complicated; they follow instructions to the letter. Due to the caster of this seal specifying exactly what it needed, it basically tried to exchange blood for green mana. Quite smart of you, Astraga, using seals to separate mana like this. I hadn't looked into cores much as I am a Geomancer, a specialist."
Derrick looked at me, a question in his eyes. "Well, Astraga, what do you say?"
"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked, annoyed at his indirectness.
"Well, would you like me to help with the seal?" he asked.
Wait, that's true. Who better to fix the seal than the strongest Ashborn himself?
"Lucky for you, I have a specialist core," Derrick said, his face breaking into a smile. "I am a Geomancer." His eyes lit up, and a rush of green energy flowed into my body. Yes, that was it the last mana type I needed.
He stood up, the tips of his fingers glowing with a green aura, and instructed me to stand. "I should concentrate on trying to navigate my core," he said, staring at the seal my mother had made. His eyes glowed again, and he said, "This might hurt a lot, Astraga."
"Wait, a lot?" Before I could question him further, it was too late. He yanked the seal out with his hands. "You won't be needing this anymore." Then, using his other hand, he aimed a burst of energy directly at my stomach.
An unbearable pain shot through me. My core violently shook within my body, but something was different. I could feel energy coursing through me now.
"Thank you, Astraga," he said, a genuine gratitude in his voice. "I could talk freely, and it had weighed on me for so long. I would gift you something before you go to help you on your journey. Unfortunately, I can't interfere in the world of the living much."
A sudden heat seared across my abdomen. I doubled over, clutching my stomach as if molten iron had been poured into my very core.
"Done. You're now stable, perfectly awakened."
When the agony finally faded, I looked down and froze. Etched above my navel was no ordinary scar or burn. A feather stretched across my flesh, long and elegant, its lines too flawless to have been drawn by human hands. It curved gently like a blade of light, tapering to a fine, almost cruel point.
So wait, that's it? I can use mana now?" A small smile escaped my lips. Just the thought gave me a serious assurance that I could finally find that bastard after me. Guess this is it... but wait. I don't know any spells. How would I even control mana now? I thought to myself, trying to recall any spell I'd ever heard of.
"The gift I've given you does not require you to call on mana, Astraga. Try using your thoughts and intentions," he rushed out as he put his jackel head back on, calling for his adjudicator, Azazel.
Immediately, Azazel appeared, kneeling. "Yes, master? You called?"
"Ah, Azazel, you're here. Nice. I want you to watch something carefully."
"Yes, master," he said, staring at me without a second doubt. I wondered why he wanted Azazel to witness me using mana. Was it to prove that my previous encounter with him wasn't an accurate representation of my abilities?
Derrick folded his arms, a proud glint in his emerald eyes. "Now then, Astraga, begin to cast mana. You've been given a stable core that seamlessly absorbs and separates mana. It's time to prove it. See for yourself."
"Now, show us, Astraga," he said, his voice brimming with enjoyment.
I blinked, still reeling from the searing pain etched into my core, but I wouldn't lie this was the moment I had been waiting for. I could train at home now and learn sword styles. "I'm ready, greatest grandfather."
He gave me one last instruction. "Now remember, intent casting. You must make your intentions clear. No chants. Just let your thoughts create the mana." His tone was sharp and commanding, like a true mentor. "Show me your intent casting on all of them. Consider this your first lesson and test, Astraga."
Azazel shifted where he kneeled, his sharp eyes locking onto me. His presence was suffocating, like a blade drawn but not yet swung.
"Intent casting… in front of him?" I muttered, nerves rising in my chest.
"Yes," Derrick said firmly. "I can already feel the mana flowing. Azazel must see what you are now." He seemed to want to make a point.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. The feather-mark on my abdomen pulsed with warmth, and when I focused, my thoughts became clearer, sharper like the entire room was waiting for my command.
Fire.
Heat surged through my veins. My palm ignited in an instant, a roaring flame twisting upward like a serpent freed from a cage. Its glow painted the chamber in crimson, hissing with hunger as if it wanted to consume me along with everything else.
Wind.
The fire shattered into sparks as a gale burst from my other hand. The air bent and screamed, scattering embers into spirals that cut across the chamber like invisible blades. My hair whipped violently, the pressure making it hard to breathe.
Water.
Moisture thickened, droplets condensing midair until a sphere of liquid hovered before me. It pulsed like a beating heart, reflecting the firelight in trembling ripples before dripping down into my cupped palm. Fluid and moist.
Earth.
The ground rumbled. With a sharp crack, the floor beneath my feet split open, and jagged stone erupted upward, forming a rough step that lifted me a fraction higher. Dust and gravel danced in the air, as though bowing before its new master.
Azazel's voice cut through the silence, low and sharp. "A quad core…? This would be my first time seeing a person with four elements cast in sequence." His eyes narrowed, the weight of his attention pressing down on me.
But before I could react, something else stirred.
The feather blazed against my skin, filling me with a light that wasn't any of the four elements. My breath caught as the pulse spread outward.
Green.
Emerald light exploded across my body, seeping into my veins, my bones, my very soul. Chains clawed their way from the cracks I had made in the stone, wrapping up my arms like living chains. They glowed gold at the edges, tightening around me not as a restraint but as a recognition an authority I hadn't yet understood.
Azazel inhaled sharply. "Those… Master, are those not—"
"Yes, Azazel," Derrick cut him off, his voice firm, almost reverent. His emerald eyes locked on the chains, then flicked back to me. "Those are exactly what you think they are: an Adjudicator's binding chains."