Martial warriors did not wield mana like mages.
They relied instead on life energy—the vital force threading through muscle and bone, carried with every heartbeat. Through discipline and will, they could circulate it to harden flesh to iron, sharpen reflexes to lightning, and draw forth strength that bordered on the supernatural.
But when a martial artist reached the brink of their capabilities, there was only one way to turn the tide.
Burning essence.
More precisely, burning away their own life.
By setting fire to their lifespan, a warrior could achieve a terrifying surge of power. Muscles swelled beyond mortal limits. Bones refused to fracture. Each strike carried the weight of mountains. But every breath taken in that state was stolen from the future. Years were shaved into months. Months into moments. Burn long enough, and death was inevitable.
It was a final act. A desperate last stand with maximum risk.
Mages, as vain and egoistic of knowledge as they were—of course devised their own equivalent.
They did not burn life essence. Instead, they ruptured their mana cores and forcibly overexerted their mana rings.
A mana core was not merely a vessel of power—it was a regulator.
To a mage, it is essentially a second heart. It governs the flow of mana through the body, maintaining balance between generation and containment. In ordinary use, it pulsed steadily, releasing mana at rates the body could withstand, slowly replenishing itself over time.
But a mage could force that balance.
By accelerating their mana rings—pushing them beyond safe rotational limits—a mage could flood their system with mana far faster than it was ever meant to flow. The result was a brutal surge of power, turning the caster into a living conduit of raw magic.
The price, however, was steep.
As rotational force climbed, equilibrium failed. Mana pressure slammed unevenly against the body. Control would be lost. Internal channels tear and snap apart. Most mages who attempted such a technique crippled themselves permanently. Others may even shatter their cores outright—mana dispersing without anchor, leaving nothing behind but a corpse drained hollow.
Like burning life essence, it was a technique reserved for desperation. For most casters, their bodies would fail after just ten seconds.
Veronica, however—was different.
She possessed two mana cores. And where others collapsed under imbalance of forces, she created motion and soared.
Rather than forcing a single core beyond its limits, she aligned both—locking their mana rings into matched frequencies and opposing rotations. One core drove mana forward while the other countered the surge, the flows feeding into one another in a continuous loop.
Not chaos or discord, but resonance.
The pressure did not vanish—if anything; it intensified—but it no longer tore her apart. The opposing forces stabilized her core chambers, allowing both to expel mana at maximum output without immediate collapse. Power surged through her in a closed circuit, accelerating with every cycle. The longer the form was maintained, the more power she could draw out. Likewise, that meant it became increasingly dangerous if not carefully managed.
But as long as she could endure the strain, and carefully control how much power she outputted—she became a mage capable of the impossible.
And right now—she was burning bright.
The forest shook as Veronica thrust her hand forward. Three white wings flared into being behind her palm.
The demonic soldier charged forth, footfalls stampeding like a raging bull.
But then the ground turned against him.
Power welled up within Veronica. The forest ground beneath the demon began to glow. Light fractured from beneath its feet, thin spiderwebs of white gleaming fire crawling through the dirt, shining into small walls of light barely a foot tall. The demon paused momentarily, its eyes darting between the cracks of light.
Before it could react—Veronica back-stepped and clenched her palm into a fist. The ground responded to her spell.
Light and stone tore skyward in a concussive blast. The forest trees shook as the explosion blew against their leaves and branches. Shards of earth lifted and fell, cracking in half, forming tiny pebbles of scattered dirt.
She avoided most of the debris that went flying. This younger body of hers, unmarred by curse, was the perfect vessel to perform quick and agile maneuvers. Maybe she could actually learn to dance in this lifetime.
Moments later, through the swirling haze came a roar that split the air.
The demon burst through the smoke, feet stomping through the broken earth that remained. Its skin was charred and smoking; cracks glinted red across its hide, but its stride didn’t stop. Its frown was wide, jagged teeth showing with molten drool.
It was going to take more than that to kill it.
Minutes had passed. Multiple exchanges of power had already been held as soon as Finn had run off. With each attack the demon launched, Veronica responded in kind. But even with Veronica’s exalted form, things were still at a standstill.
For demonic-soldiers, it took at least a small party of 3rd-Tier mages to kill it. With her exalted form, Veronica was only artificially inflating her power to make up for the difference.
“Useless!” it bellowed. “Stop meddling with our plans, human! I’ll rip that dainty body apart!”
“Dainty?” she repeated. Veronica took offense to that. She lifted her hand again, light forming another set of triple mage wings.
The demon reared its ram-like head back. Flames burst from the fissures that scored its body, smoke and sparks spilling upward in ragged plumes. A guttural rumble built in its throat, low at first, then swelling until it shook the clearing. The air screamed with heat as the inferno burst forth, rushing toward her in a wall of fire.
Veronica’s lips curved into a grin. It wasn’t joy, but the fierce satisfaction of watching prey flail against a predator.
“Right back at you,” she said with a smile.
On her call, the storm came alive.
Winds shrieked from her outstretched hand, roaring forward to meet the tide. Dust and stone were torn up in the gale, trees bowing violently as razor-edged currents surged past. Her hair whipped across her face as wind surged forth.
Both forces collided in the center.
For an instant the forest seemed to hold its breath. Fire met wind with a scream that shook the air. The inferno split, its heart torn apart and scattered sideways. Flames crashed against the treeline only to gutter out, shredded into sparks that tumbled uselessly to the earth.
What should have become a wildfire was reduced to scorched ground and glowing cinders, scattered like fallen stars. The gale kept going, its blades leaving shallow wounds on the demon, with others hitting and carving the ground.
Veronica swept her hair aside, eyes fixed ahead.
The demon still stood.
It roared in frustration, stomping a clawed foot into the ruined earth. Molten drool spilled from its jaws, sizzling where it struck the dirt. Though its flesh was singed and scratched, rage burned across every molten fracture that scored its hide.
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It snarled, voice like stone splitting under pressure. “Persistent gnat…”
Veronica’s smirk deepened. She lifted her hand once more, another flare of wings sparking to life. Light rippled across her arm, her whole body thrumming with mana.
Truth be told—Veronica was enjoying this. Destructive battles were what her magic was born for. No one followed the Path of Ruin and used its magic to tend a farm. This was especially true right now since she could use her magic without limitations; it truly was the best feeling in the world.
“Annoying, isn’t it?” she murmured. The words came easy, soft and filled with mockery. For her, this was almost… therapeutic. To face a demon and know there wasn’t a horde waiting beyond it. Just this one. Just her, and it.
“You’re just wasting time, mortal. The town you’re trying to protect should already be dead by now. Tonight, we summon my brothers. Surrender and I might let you live under me as a slave,” it said.
Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry,” she said, her tone dipping into a quiet promise. “But as much fun as that sounds, I’m not too big of a fan working under a demon’s boot. While I’d love to fight more, I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you quickly. I have more important things to do. Things to prevent.”
Her core was burning hot. She could feel the stress mounting with each breath. Normally, she would have felt some pain or at least even pressure. But instead, her body felt numb. It was probably due to Sage’s warning earlier about pain suppression. However, this was a double-edged sword. She could feel her muscles tearing and her mana-room beginning to resist.
“Then I’ll just take your blood by force!” it roared, charging forward.
Veronica quickly formed another spell; the ground in front of her shook, then parted. It split at her command, a jagged crack racing forward like a slithering serpent. It snaked toward the demon, tearing soil and dirt apart as it went.
But the demon moved with surprising speed. Its muscles bulged, molten veins glowing brighter; it launched to the side with a powerful leap. Earth caved beneath its hooves as it landed, then it sprang again, shortening the distance between them drastically.
Veronica’s eyes sharpened. He’s fast.
It barreled forward, arm drawn wide, claws outstretched, several inches long that could sever her wrist in one swipe.
Her hand snapped up. A translucent barrier shimmered into being before her, raw mana compressed into a wall of light. The demon slammed into it like a tumbling boulder from atop a mountain.
Its claws gouged into the shield, causing cracks to immediately spiderweb across the surface. Each press of force rippled the barrier more, threatening its collapse. The barrier creaked and crackled under the immense strain.
“It’s futile, mage!” the demon bellowed. Its body lay at an angle on her barrier. With a grunt, it pulled its arm back, then slammed it forward once again. Another loud crack came from the barrier. Small shards broke inward as it began to unravel, even with all the extra mana Veronica was pouring in to maintain it.
“You mortals are just too weak!” it shouted, slamming another fist down.
Veronica’s jaw clenched.
A demon soldier was no joke. She needed at minimum Tier-3 spells. But forming those while a tier lower, meant straining herself significantly, burning out her Exalted Form even more.
Veronica’s left hand rose, three wings shimmered, unfurling in an instant. A bright flash of light exploded in the air above them, compressed in a single brilliant point.
The demon’s gaze flicked upward.
It came too quick for it to dodge.
Veronica shut her eyes, just before the world turned white in front of them.
A pillar of lightning cascaded from the heavens, striking dead center where the demon lay on her barrier. The blast hammered them both; that was the final straw for her shield as it shattered in a blinding detonation of shards.
Veronica staggered back, her boots skidding across the loose earth, the barrier having blocked the attack from hitting her directly. However, she could feel the feedback stinging her right arm that had tried to maintain it. Did she break her arm? Dislocate it?
She hissed through her teeth. No, it wasn’t broken. Luckily.
Her eyes still burned a bright violet, staring at the demon as the debris cleared away.
It had fallen to its knees, but was already standing back up. Smoke poured from its body, small arcs of lightning crawling longed its form. For a moment, it paused, hunched, but quickly straightened. Its armor was cracked, one of its horns had split, blackened from the strike.
“Putrid vermin…” it growled. Its voice was much deeper. Like something was caught in its throat. “I’ll kill you and then use your blood to summon father.”
Immediately, Veronica felt a chill.
[Warning! Warning! Large amounts of demonic pressure and energy detected. A devastating attack is incoming!]
“Shit…!” Veronica cursed.
Through the smoke, she recognized its posture. The same one it had used to attack Finn—except the pressure felt much stronger.
She had to cancel it.
Mana surged along her trembling arm, prepared to use a quick Path of Tempest Tier-2 spell to interrupt it.
[Mana cores are under immense strain. One minute remains until permanent adverse effects may take effect]
“What?! Has it already been 20 minutes?!” she questioned aloud.
[It has been 17 minutes and 24 seconds. Your power output has been significantly enhanced beyond calculations. They’re experiencing too much strain at such a low tier. Time remaining is down to 56 seconds.]
She clicked her tongue. She had lost nearly 5 minutes of time. “Fine. If you want to do this the hard way…!” she grit her teeth, canceling the mana she had just prepared.
If she wasted her mana to cast a single Tier-2 or Tier-3 spell… it wouldn’t be worth it. Unless she killed it now, she would die once her exalted form ran out of energy. She’d be left to deal with it as just a Tier-2 mage. She had to end this with one attack. And the only way to overpower and kill it right now was—
Veronica extended her right arm straight, fingers slightly curled. Three faint wings appeared behind her palm. A magic circle appeared in front of her, wide as her body.
A fourth wing fought its way into existence
“Spirals of light, from the sparks that grow and burn, come the echoes of hell,” she whispered.
Powerful spells, especially ones at higher tiers like Tier-7 or above, required magic circles or incantations. Sometimes both. While not always necessary for lower-tier spells, they significantly helped with focus and control. They were like training wheels for mages.
Circles and incantations were also usually included in casting a spell higher than one’s own tier. She was fine with casting Tier-3 spells in her exalted form, but casting something higher? She needed to break out all the techniques and tricks. The only thing she was missing, was a staff; she could only force herself to do without it.
Interlocking patterns shimmered within the magic circle, concentric rings rotating slowly like gears of glass. Each line burned white-gold, threads of power weaving together until the entire construct hummed with barely contained force. Beneath the spell, hundreds of calculations were taking place: mathematical formulas and concepts. These were usually hidden from the eye as just regular magic circle glyphs.
“Light that survives the storm,” she intoned, voice low, words resonating with the hum of the circle. “The spark that pierces the dark… the dawn that follows ruin.”
Spell chants were magically imbued words—ways to concentrate a mage’s mana into a spell. The more meaning you put into them, the greater the effect. The words themselves could be anything, even nonsensical language.
Veronica preferred poetic invocation. “To part the path, decree the law…”
The demon snarled, its entire body convulsing as black-red flames erupted from its chest, spilling outward in a tide of heat and fury. The ground beneath it melted as the fires within its body compressed and became super-heated.
“Through cloud, through ash…” Veronica’s eyes blazed, violet light spilling like fire from her pupils. Her voice rose, cutting across the roar of the inferno.
Her magic hit the breakpoint; all the mana that pulsed from her mana core was used up in an instant, consumption overwhelming what was provided.
[Mana use has exceeded vital limits. Exalted Form can no longer be maintained.]
Veronica’s hair which was lifted from her overflowing mana, drifted down. The violet glow in her eyes dimmed. Yet the magic in front of her—that was still bright and mesmerizing.
Her spell was already complete.
She shouted the last words with absolute conviction, the finality of her Path of Ruin, Tier-4 spell.
“Comes… the first rays of Ra!”
The circle flared, searing bright. A lance of pure brilliance burst forward, a beam wide as a tree trunk. It tore from her hand in a straight line, a sun-born laser that split the world as it advanced.
The demon unleashed its attack in the same instant—its torrent of flame surged to meet her beam, black-red fire colliding with white-gold light. The air exploded around it, sending a shockwave of wind that twisted the leaves and broke branches all around them.
For a heartbeat, the forest convulsed. Fire shrieked and light screamed. The two forces flashed, colliding and warring in the center of the clearing, each devouring the other.
Then—the light pushed through. The ground split, trees toppled, and the night of the forest around them turned to day.
Her beam drilled into the heart of the flames and smothered them, swallowing the inferno whole. The demon’s molten eyes widened, disbelief flashing across its scorched face. Its attack vanished, crushed under unyielding force.
“Impossible—!” it roared. “How is a human this strong out here!”
White light engulfed the clearing. The beam widened and devoured its body. Armor cracked, hide melted, deep fissures seeping into its core. It opened its jaws, but no sound escaped—only the silence of a scream lost to brilliance.
And still the lance did not stop.
It ripped through the clearing, shearing apart scorched trunks, pulverizing stone, and carving a trail of white ruin into the forest beyond, uprooting all earth below it. Somewhere, far away, the beam slammed into the mountainside with a sound like an avalanche.
Veronica’s arm shook violently as the circle shattered, its glowing geometry dissolving into fading sparks. Her breath came ragged, sweat dripping from her chin. She collapsed to her knees, violet light guttering in her eyes until it dimmed away entirely.
The surge was gone. The clearing fell silent, broken only by the faint hiss of scorched earth cooling under the sun-dipped dusk of the sky.
She took a few moments to compose herself. Her entire body felt sore, and her heart thrummed heavily within her chest. She could barely move, let alone stand.
In front of her, there was nothing but smoking dirt. A large path was made, extending beyond what she could see, wide enough for a carriage to drive on. And among that path—no demon stood in its way.
She had killed it with the last of her mana. Just in time.
“That was…. fun…” she exhaled
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Path of Frailty and Path of Origins
Path of Frailty and Path of Origins specialize in multipurpose methods to weaken, decay, or curse. Their magic branches to different expressions; a poison may not erode flesh or muscle, but may sap mana, dull perception, or even interfere with spell matrixes. Likewise, weakening effects do not have to adhere to strictly stamina siphoning, but can affect the senses, awareness, and pressure in ways no other paths can offer.
Finn was sent back to warn the town. Will he succeed in his mission?
