Volume 03, Chapter 88

  The Manaficial Ritual

  “Hey, Clark, wake up!”

  I feel Célestin shaking me, his voice annoyingly cheerful. My body protests against the movement—I am still so sleepy.

  “Five more minutes…” I mumble, turning my face into the pillow.

  “Aiyah! Are you forgetting about the Manaficial ritual!?” Célestin shakes me harder, his grip insistent.

  “Yeah, yeah…” I groan, slowly cracking one eye open. His face hovers above me, a mischievous grin plastered across it as he clutches my shoulder.

  “Good! Let’s go! I have all the artifacts ready!” Célestin chirps before stepping back, practically bouncing with excitement.

  As he moves away, I sit up, rubbing my eyes. My gaze drifts to the desk, where the artifacts I painstakingly collected are arranged neatly: the Mirror of Lysandra, the Scepter of Binding, and the Chalice of Merging.

  Célestin must have set them up.

  I glance at the clock—4:30 AM. Really? That early? The sun has not even risen yet.

  “Hey, Clark, hurry up!” Célestin calls impatiently.

  “Hah!” I yawn as I stretch, my voice dripping with grogginess. “Yeah, yeah…”

  I cannot help but notice how much more excited he seems about this than I am. It is strange. I am the one who gathered the artifacts, the one about to become a Manaficial. Yet here he is, practically vibrating with energy, while I can barely summon the willpower to leave my bed.

  Dragging myself upright, I begin to pull off my shirt to shower, but Célestin suddenly grabs my hand, stopping me mid-motion.

  “Why are you changing, Clark?” he asks, his tone puzzled.

  “To shower?” I reply, frowning. Why would he even ask that?

  “Don’t,” he says quickly. “We need to hurry.”

  I sigh, annoyed but too tired to argue. “Célestin, we could just do the ritual later—like around 8 AM. There’s no rush.”

  Célestin shakes his head firmly. “No way! That would ruin the surprise! Just imagine this—Auntie Celine wakes up and discovers that her Manaless son is now a Manaficial! The look on her face will be priceless!”

  I stroke my chin, considering it. It is not a bad idea—definitely dramatic. But then a thought hits me, and I hesitate.

  “That would make her suspicious,” I point out. “Celine knows how expensive the modern Manaficial ritual is. She will wonder how I got the resources—might even think I got involved in something shady. And then there’s the debt the E?eforte family already has…”

  Célestin frowns, tilting his head. “Why are you overthinking this?”

  “Because it is not simple,” I reply. “If they find out I risked my life for these artifacts, they will be worried sick. I am not even the real Dominic. I do not want them wasting their energy worrying about someone who is not truly their son…”

  Ever since I transmigrated into this world—a world I once thought was just a web novel—I had promised myself that I would not let Celine and André worry about me. They deserved peace, not more stress caused by a man from Earth pretending to be their son.

  Célestin sighs, his usual playfulness dimming. “Clark… you think way too much. Celine and André would understand if you just explain things properly.”

  “But—”

  “No buts!” he interrupts firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. André and Celine will be okay with it if you give them a good explanation. They would probably be proud of you for doing something so dangerous to achieve your goal.”

  “Proud that I raided temples?” I ask skeptically.

  “Yeah, they would,” Célestin replies confidently. “It shows your determination to become a Manaficial. That is something they would admire.”

  “What if they ask where I got the information about the artifacts?”

  “Do not worry about that,” Célestin says reassuringly. “I will be there with you. If they press you too hard, I will step in and explain. You are not doing this alone.”

  I stare at him for a moment, his unwavering support catching me off guard. Finally, I sigh, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little.

  “Fine,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Célestin grins, clapping me on the back. “That’s the spirit! Let’s go make you a Manaficial, Clark!”

  ════ ?★? ════

  “Come here, Clark,” Célestin calls out, his voice steady and purposeful.

  “Wait, hold on,” I reply, trying to keep up with his pace.

  Everything is happening so fast. After Célestin gathers all the artifacts and places them carefully into a bag, he grabs a wooden pedestal. Meanwhile, I hold the purified demon orb securely in a separate bag. We hurry out of my bedroom, moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking Celine and Clark.

  I find myself trailing after Célestin, who seems to know exactly where he is going.

  “Hey, Célestin, where are we headed?” I ask, curiosity and a tinge of nervousness creeping into my voice.

  “I know an open place where we can do the ritual,” he replies, glancing back briefly. “Just trust me and follow.”

  “Okay…”

  I sigh inwardly. I have not even considered where to perform the ritual until now. If it were not for Célestin, I might have been stuck trying to find a suitable spot at the last minute. I silently thank the stars that he is here—and that he is a regressor. He always seems to know the best places and the best strategies.

  Despite his love for jokes and his sometimes carefree demeanor, Célestin is undeniably reliable. It is not hard to see why Lumi and Violette have fallen for him. He is not just resourceful—his mental resilience is remarkable. He and Dominic have endured countless regressions, yet Célestin still carries himself with a certain lightness, a sense of humor that belies the weight of his experiences.

  As I follow him, the familiar townscape of the E?eforte territory slowly fades into the distance, replaced by a breathtaking field of multicolored flowers. It is a stark contrast to the endless lavender fields I have grown so accustomed to.

  The silence between us is not uncomfortable. It gives me a chance to take in the beauty of the scenery. The flowers sway gently in the cool night breeze, their colors vivid even in the faint pre-dawn light.

  “This way…” Célestin says, breaking the silence as he veers to the right.

  The paved road gives way to a dirt path, but I do not question him. I keep following, trusting his judgment.

  We walk through the field of flowers for a while, the colors blending together like an artist’s palette. In the distance, a cherry blossom tree comes into view. Its soft pink petals stand out against the muted tones of the surrounding landscape.

  As we approach, I realize the tree stands in the middle of an open, grassy area—a perfect spot for the ritual.

  “This is it,” Célestin says, gently placing the pedestal and bag down. He turns to me, his expression serious but tinged with excitement. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  I nod, taking a deep breath as I step forward. The anticipation that has been building all morning finally settles into determination.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Célestin unwraps the bag, carefully pulling out each artifact while I retrieve the demon orb.

  He precisely places the wooden pedestal on the ground, then sets the Mirror of Lysandra atop it. Its intricate frame gleams faintly in the dim light.

  “Clark, give me the demon orb,” Célestin requests.

  I nod and hand it to him. He gently places the orb on the pedestal, positioning it directly in front of the mirror.

  I step back, feeling like an observer instead of an active participant. I know how to perform the ritual, but Célestin is taking charge, arranging everything with practiced precision. It makes me feel like a child watching their parents work—an odd blend of awe and a twinge of guilt stirs in my chest.

  I think back to the temple when I slapped him. At the time, he had been mischievous and cheeky, and I had acted out of frustration. Now, though, seeing him like this—focused and serious—I regret it.

  Célestin pulls the Scepter of Binding and the Chalice of Merging from the bag, walking toward me with both in hand. He stops just a step away and holds out the chalice.

  “Clark, I want you to hold this,” he says, his voice steady.

  I take the chalice, cradling it carefully. “Why are you not giving me the scepter?” I ask, glancing at the intricate artifact still in his grasp.

  “Because I have done this before,” he replies, his expression serious. “If you were to handle the scepter without the proper experience, the results could be… devastating.”

  “Devastating?” I repeat, my chest tightening slightly.

  The web novel never mentioned what might happen if the ritual failed.

  “If the ritual is not performed correctly,” Célestin explains, “the Magic Power from the demon orb would diminish entirely. It would be lost—and all your effort would go to waste.”

  “Oh… I see,” I say, the weight of his words settling over me.

  Célestin nods, a small, reassuring smile breaking through his solemn demeanor. “Do not worry. I have got this. All we need to do now is wait for the sun to rise.”

  The faint glow of dawn begins to illuminate the horizon, casting soft golden hues across the field.

  “All right, time to position ourselves,” Célestin says, gesturing toward the cherry tree. “Clark, stand under the tree.”

  I nod, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. I step beneath the cherry tree, the petals above me swaying gently in the early morning breeze.

  “I want you to stand there and be ready,” Célestin instructs, his tone steady. “When the magic power condenses into liquid, it will feel heavier. Do not let go of the chalice.”

  I nod again, gripping the chalice tightly and bracing myself.

  Célestin turns his attention to the sky, and I follow his gaze. The sun is rising now, its light cresting the horizon faster than I had expected.

  “All right, get ready,” he says, his voice sharpening with focus.

  Sunlight catches the surface of the Mirror of Lysandra, reflecting directly onto the purified demon orb. The orb begins to glow faintly, its light growing stronger with each passing moment.

  The Mirror’s purpose becomes clear as the ritual begins. It separates the orb’s inner components—the magic power and mana—from its outer shell, which contains the creature’s essence, instincts, and memories.

  “Okay,” Célestin says, gripping the Scepter of Binding tightly. “Let’s do this.”

  He points the scepter toward the orb, and the crystal at its tip begins to glow with an intense, radiant light.

  The orb responds, its glow intensifying before a trail of white energy emerges from it, spiraling upward like a ribbon. The outer shell of the orb remains, but the energy trail is being pulled away—its magic power extracted.

  With a smooth motion, Célestin guides the energy with the scepter, directing it toward the chalice in my hands.

  I steady myself as the trail of energy flows into the chalice, condensing into a liquid form. The weight of the chalice increases with each passing second, my arms trembling slightly under the pressure.

  Finally, the energy trail ceases, leaving the chalice brimming with a glowing liquid that feels unnaturally heavy.

  “It’s done,” Célestin says, his tone triumphant. “Now, drink it.”

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes, lifting the chalice to my lips. The liquid is warm as it flows down my throat, filling me with an immediate surge of energy—but it does not stop there.

  An intense, searing heat surges through my body.

  “Ngh!” I gasp, clutching my chest as pain explodes in my heart. My knees buckle, and I collapse onto the grass. Everything around me blurs into a haze of warmth and light.

  “Clark!” I hear Célestin shout, his voice filled with panic.

  The pain is overwhelming, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as if my chest might burst. My vision blurs further, but a familiar red holographic screen appears before me amidst the chaos.

  “Clark, breathe!” Célestin’s voice breaks through the haze as I feel his arms on my shoulders. “Take a deep breath. Forget the world around you. Listen to yourself. Let the air fill your lungs, and when you exhale, imagine the energy within you moving with it.”

  I follow his advice, inhaling deeply despite the pain, then exhaling slowly.

  The pain remains, but it begins to dull slightly as the warmth within me spreads, flowing like a current through every part of my body.

  “Keep going!” Célestin urges.

  I inhale deeply again, focusing on his words.

  I repeat the process, and with each breath, my warmth begins to settle—no longer chaotic, but focused and controlled.

  The pain gradually subsides, replaced by a soothing warmth coursing through my body. I glance at the holographic screen, my breathing slowly steadying.

  A new stat? That is unexpected.

  “Clark, are you okay?” Célestin’s voice is softer now, his face close to mine. He is still holding me, his arms steady and reassuring.

  I nod slightly, though I cannot help but notice the warmth radiating from him. Was that… his Mana?

  “Célestin, you’re too close,” I mutter, feeling my face grow hot.

  Célestin smirks and releases me gently. “My bad!”

  He helps me to my feet, his hand warm and firm. As I stand, I realize I can feel his energy more clearly now. It is vibrant and alive—a sensation I have never noticed before.

  “Clark, your Mana reserves are huge,” Célestin says, his eyes scanning me curiously. “That demon orb must have had an incredible amount of Mana.”

  I glance down at my hands and flex my fingers, feeling the energy humming through me. “Yeah… André did mention the orb was [A] rank. That explains a lot.”

  Célestin smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “Well, congratulations. You’re officially a Manaficial now.”

  I cannot help but grin back at him. “Thanks, Célestin.”

  His gaze shifts to the purified demon orb on the pedestal, now devoid of its Magic Power and left with only the purified soul.

  “The only thing left to do is figure out what you want to do with that,” Célestin says, gesturing to the orb.

  I glance at it, the faint glow of its purified essence shimmering in the morning light. Now that I have Mana and a magic attribute, the orb’s primary purpose has already been fulfilled. But what am I supposed to do with it now?

  “Maybe… I’ll just keep it in the house,” I suggest after a moment of thought.

  Célestin nods. “That works. Better than leaving it lying around, tempting someone to pick it up.”

  His attention shifts to the mirror. “Speaking of which, we should pack up the artifacts. Can’t just leave them out here.”

  “Ah, right,” I say, scratching my head sheepishly. “Good call.”

  Célestin begins gathering the artifacts—the Scepter of Binding, the Mirror of Lysandra, and the empty demon orb—carefully placing them back into the bag.

  I linger for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities. With Mana now flowing through me, the idea of casting spells and testing my new abilities is exhilarating. But curiosity tugs at me—I need to see how much I have changed.

  “System,” I mutter, “show me my stats.”

  I stare at the screen, immediately drawn to my Mana stat—666. I knew the demon orb contained an incredible amount of Mana, but seeing the actual number still stuns me.

  Then I see my Mana Control: 0.

  I am a massive Mana battery with no idea how to direct its energy effectively.

  And then there is my magic attribute: Umbra.

  Umbra is a unique attribute connected to demons. With it, I can form pacts with demons and access their abilities. However, the cost of those pacts depends on the terms of the agreements I make. Umbra magic also allows me to use elemental Dark magic spells. That means I might even be able to use some of André’s spells… something I definitely need to talk to him about.

  I clench my fists, the weight of my potential sinking in. I will need to improve my Mana Control to maximize all of this. Meditation will help me sense the magic of my soul more clearly, and consistent spell practice will sharpen my precision.

  “Clark, let’s go!” Célestin’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

  “Ah, right!” I call back, quickly grabbing the Chalice of Merging and jogging to catch up with him.

  As we walk back toward the house, I cannot help but feel a bit excited.

  This is just the beginning.