Chương 18: The Abyssal Spring and the Silent Gaze

Deep within the gloomy primeval forest, the ravine that had just witnessed a brutal battle with a Tier 1 mana-beast was heavy with the pungent stench of blood. Huff... Huff... Rowan half-knelt at the edge of the muddy Mana Spring, gasping greedily for air. He paid no mind to the potential dangers lurking nearby.

The lingering, berserk aura of the Tier 1 Rock-Scaled Giant Crocodile, combined with the blood soaked into the ground, was more than enough to deter the vast majority of low-to-mid-tier predators for a short while. Gripping the empty scabbard of his black-steel short-sword tightly with both hands, he acted like a tireless miner, frantically digging downward along the arm-thick fissure at the bottom of the spring. The liquefied mana exhibited a translucent, viscous consistency.

With every pry of his scabbard, the liquid mana continuously seeped up from deep underground, washing over his hands and right arm. Initially, this high concentration of pure mana felt incredibly soothing, like a gentle rain falling upon a parched desert. Rowan could even feel his Source Crystal Core—which was slightly depleted from the high-intensity casting earlier—greedily absorbing the splashing droplets of liquid mana. But as the excavation dug deeper, Rowan's expression gradually began to change.

The practically tangible liquid mana was no longer washing over him gently. It seemed to possess some kind of manic vitality. Acting like a microscopic, high-pressure water jet, it began forcefully drilling into his fragile meridians through the pores and skin texture of his right arm! Hsss—! Rowan's movements halted abruptly, a sharp intake of icy air tearing through his throat. He looked down, his pupils contracting to pinpricks.

To his absolute horror, his entire right forearm had bizarrely swollen to twice its normal size in just over ten seconds! His originally healthy, wheat-colored skin was stretched so taut it was almost transparent. Beneath the skin, veins bulged hideously. But what flowed through them was no longer crimson blood; it was liquefied mana radiating a dangerously bright fluorescence.

He attempted to channel the [Water Source Rune] within his heart's crystal core to guide this massive influx of foreign mana away from his right arm. To his terror, he discovered that the mana circuits in his arm were completely blocked by a thick layer of "mana scale," solidified by the high-pressure liquid mana. He quickly opened a medical diagnostic software. Fortunately, anticipating potential injuries, he had downloaded three offline medical apps with free trial quotas well in advance.

[Warning: Localized mana concentration overload in the right arm! Current concentration exceeds physiological safety threshold by 400%!] [Diagnosis: Acute Severe "Mana Edema."] [Violation Warning: Please sever external mana source immediately! If overload persists, extensive irreversible necrosis of the meridians is estimated in 120 seconds. Amputation protocol preparation advised!] The AR system on his retina went berserk, frantically spamming crimson warning pop-ups while an ear-piercing siren echoed through his auditory nerves.

"Mana Edema..." Rowan gritted his teeth, staring at his right arm that looked ready to burst. Those nearly forgotten words sparked a memory. Back in the Terra Federation's basic mage textbooks, he had skimmed past this term in an obscure corner of an elective chapter. In the resource-starved Seventh Abyssal Hive, this was practically a mythical "rich man's disease."

Usually, only those obscenely wealthy Consortium scions living in the upper districts—those who overdosed on meditation inside top-tier super-mana-gathering arrays or drank high-purity mana potions like water—could possibly suffer from this due to their bodies being unable to handle the excessive nourishment. On Terra, the poor only ever suffered from mana depletion. Rowan never in his wildest dreams imagined that he would one day face this peril because he had too much mana.

In this primeval forest fraught with mortal danger, losing his dominant arm was equivalent to a death sentence. He forced himself to calm down. What underhive rats excelled at the most was squeezing every last drop of rationality from their brains to find a path to survival while enduring extreme despair and agony.

"I can't use mental power to forcefully unblock it; that's like smashing an egg against a rock." Rowan's brain operated like an overclocked magitech array, rapidly replaying every single word from the Basic Mana Channeling (Version 2. 2) manual he had studied last night.

"The textbook stated that the essence of channeling is using potions or arrays to create an exaggerated 'low mana-pressure differential' inside the body, which then acts like a water pump to forcefully suck the free-floating ambient mana into the crystal core..." Rowan's eyes instantly lit up, like grabbing hold of a torch in an endless night.

"Since this theory can generate a powerful suction force outward, what if I apply it internally? This suction force could naturally act as a floodgate to drain the pressure from within!" No sooner thought than done. Fighting through the excruciating pain of his right arm feeling like it was about to detonate, Rowan swiftly unzipped his tactical chest rig with his good left hand. From the shockproof inner compartment, he pulled out one of the Federation-issued "Mana Cultivation Supplements."

He brutally bit off the cork. But instead of downing the entire vial like last night, after a rapid mental calculation, he restrained himself and swallowed only about half a mouthful. The pale blue liquid slid down his esophagus into his stomach, detonating a pungent, astringent taste mixing metal with industrial synthetic mint inside his mouth. A miracle—or rather, the inevitable result of magical laws—occurred in the very next second.

The instant the potion took effect, Rowan felt an intense "low-mana vacuum" manifest in his chest and stomach. It was as if a miniature mana black hole had been forcefully shoved into his body. The highly congested liquid mana in his right arm—which had been on the verge of bursting his blood vessels due to localized hyper-concentration—instantly found a wide, unobstructed spillway like a breached dam.

Following the terrifying pressure differential just established within his body, the blue torrent rushed madly, unstoppably back toward the Source Crystal Core at his heart! This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Arghhh—!" The reverse flow of mana was so fast that the stinging pain of his meridians being scoured at high speed forced a muffled groan from Rowan's throat. Yet, he stared fixedly at his right arm. In just twenty short seconds. The terrifying swelling and the subcutaneous mana fluorescence visibly deflated and receded. The stretched skin settled back against his muscles. Although there was still a lingering soreness and a sense of weakness, he tried wiggling his fingers—they were as nimble as ever.

In fact, because of the violent scouring by the high-concentration liquid mana, the mana circulation speed in his right arm was now a fraction faster than his left!

"Knowledge saves lives... Mr. Miller was right." Rowan exhaled a long breath, a faint mist of water vapor leaving his lips. He turned back and, without any hesitation, resumed digging through the mud with his scabbard. Because he had only drunk half a mouthful, the potion's effect would likely only last another five or six minutes. He dug downward for nearly another half a meter. Clink. A crisp sound, like metal striking a high-density crystal, traveled up the scabbard into Rowan's palm.

Rowan stopped breathing altogether. He tossed the scabbard aside, plunged his mud-stained hands directly into the freezing, biting liquid mana sludge, felt around the hard object for a moment, and then pried upward with all his might. Splash! Mud and water flew everywhere. He had forcefully ripped a crystal from the earth. It was only the size of a pigeon's egg, yet it exhibited a perfect, multi-faceted geometric cut. It was a pure, semi-white crystal, so immaculate it lacked even a microscopic trace of impurity.

The moment it was unearthed, the liquid mana in the surrounding spring experienced a momentary stagnation, having lost its core gravitational pull. Radiating a brilliant halo, the crystal looked like a miniature sun nestled within the gloomy forest. A Mana Primordium. Rowan stared intensely at the treasure in his hands. Feeling the free-floating mana slowly beginning to converge upon it, his heart hammered wildly against his ribcage. It was too beautiful. A beauty dripping with the violent aura of absolute wealth.

In Terra's supernatural circles, this was not just a top-tier catalyst that allowed mortals to cross the chasm. In the underground black markets where no questions were asked, it was a staggering fortune of exactly 30, 000 Terra Credits! He solemnly tucked the primordium into the innermost pocket of his chest rig, patting it down firmly to ensure it was secure. Next, his eyes locked onto the edges of the spring fissure. Growing there were several bizarre aquatic plants.

Having been steeped in liquid mana for ages, their leaves were translucent and emitted a faint, eerie fluorescence. Although he couldn't find a name for this thing in his Basic Botanical Index, Rowan understood a very fundamental truth: anything capable of growing as a companion plant right next to a top-tier Mana Primordium was absolutely a premium alchemical ingredient in the eyes of an apothecary. Showing no politeness, he uprooted them entirely, shook off some of the mud, and stuffed them all into his backpack.

"A massive harvest." Having done all this, Rowan stood up and shifted his gaze. Lying quietly to the side was the severed limb of the Rock-Scaled Giant Crocodile, which he had cleanly sliced off at the joint with his water blades. The severed leg was as thick as a small pillar, weighing well over a hundred pounds, and its outer layer was covered in a heavy, armor-like rocky keratin. This was the authentic essence of a Tier 1 mana-beast's flesh and blood!

Whether for native martial artists practicing ancient body refinement, or Terra's cyber-psychos pursuing the ultimate physical limits, this was an exceedingly rare and potent tonic.

"But... how the hell am I supposed to carry this massive chunk of meat?" Rowan measured the dimensions of the meat in his mind as he walked toward the severed leg, calculating which joint would be the easiest to cut through. Just as he was less than three steps away from the limb. Woom—! An abrupt, spine-chilling sensation—the feeling of being completely locked onto by a predator—instantly washed over Rowan's entire body!

It was the drastically enhanced mental intuition of a Tier 1 true mage who had brushed past the edge of death, frantically screaming a warning: Someone, or something, is staring dead at you from extremely close range! Rowan's back stiffened instantly. He didn't waste any motion turning around. The second he sensed the anomaly, he used the muddy terrain to throw himself into a violent forward-diagonal roll. While still in mid-air, he drew his scabbard horizontally across his chest.

The mana within the crystal core in his left chest boiled furiously. A deep blue Minimalist Water Blade instantly condensed at his fingertips, ready to fire.

"Who's there?!" Like a vicious wolf whose tail had just been stepped on, Rowan's gaze swept like lightning toward a towering giant tree to the left of the slope. Resting blatantly on a thick root less than five meters away from where he had just been standing, was an incredibly bizarre mana-beast. It was a rotund, chubby creature that looked somewhat like a pangolin. But unlike a normal pangolin, its back wasn't covered in dull, greyish keratin scales.

Instead, it was layered with incredibly dense, translucent grey crystalline scales. In the dim light of the forest floor, these scales perfectly refracted the colors of the surrounding environment, cloaking it in what was essentially an optical active-camouflage suit. Rowan's pupils shrank to pinpricks. A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple, instantly soaking his collar. He wasn't shocked that an unknown mana-beast had appeared here. He was horrified because—"How is this possible...

I can't sense a single trace of mana fluctuation?!" Within Rowan's perpetually active mental perception net, the space above that tree root registered as completely, utterly empty. The mana frequency of the creature was perfectly identical to the surrounding environment! This Crystal-Scaled Pangolin was like a dead stone seamlessly integrated into the background.

If his physical eyes hadn't clearly seen its existence, Rowan wouldn't have even known how terrifying the consequences would have been if he had just defenselessly bent down to cut the meat, exposing his back to such a silent ghost. Rowan stared intently at its posture, and at the mana faintly circulating around its sharp claws. Relying on the viciously keen eye he had developed from years of dissecting mutant beasts in the underhive, he was absolutely certain: This is a bona fide Tier 1 mana-beast!

In fact, judging by this almost perverted stealth capability, it was far more dangerous than the Rock-Scaled Giant Crocodile that only knew how to charge head-on!

"Those translucent crystalline scales on its back... not only do they refract light, but they can completely absorb or warp the mana spectrum?!" Rowan's brain frantically analyzed the situation, his hand gripping the short-sword slick with cold sweat. If that were true, then to a mage relying on mana-perception radar, this thing was an unsolvable, top-tier assassin! Rowan stared at it unblinkingly, his fingers twitching, preparing to strike first and decapitate it with a water blade.

However, this bizarre Crystal-Scaled Pangolin didn't adopt any aggressive posture whatsoever. Even more bewilderingly, it didn't even cast a single glance at the puddle of pungent crocodile blood or the massive chunk of beast meat on the ground. Its small, bead-like, obsidian eyes were tracing up Rowan's arm, staring dead at his right wrist. There, the previously dull Möbius ring birthmark was faintly radiating a floating light as its 24-hour cooldown approached completion. Slurp... A jaw-dropping scene unfolded.

This pangolin, which Rowan had just classified as a "top-tier assassin," actually began to twitch its nose frantically in an incredibly human-like manner. Then, it stuck out a pink, tender tongue and exaggeratedly licked its lips. It stared at Rowan's wrist. There was no killing intent in its eyes. There was only pure, unadulterated, spine-tingling manic desire—the exact look a feral cat, starved for three days and three nights, would have if it suddenly caught a whiff of the world's most premium catnip.

Then, under Rowan's vigilant and completely bewildered gaze, this Tier 1 mana-beast that exerted zero mana pressure cautiously glanced up at Rowan. Tentatively, it took a step forward on its short little legs, creeping along the thick root toward Rowan... or more accurately, toward the Möbius ring on his wrist. Cautiously, it took one tiny step closer.