The sun had barely risen when Zegion made his way to the forest outskirts, his boots crunching softly against the damp earth. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp leaves and fresh soil. He followed a familiar path, crossing the river with practiced ease. His eyes flicked to the tree markings he had carved along the way, guiding him toward a secluded cave hidden within the thick foliage. The entrance was partially veiled by overgrown vines, ensuring it remained unnoticed by wandering eyes.
This was his secret base—his personal laboratory, where he conducted experiments on mana cores, mana stones, and their potential applications.
Mana cores were biological, found inside monsters and beasts, acting as their source of mana. The stronger the creature, the larger and denser the core. Monsters relied on them instinctively, unlike humans, who lacked mana cores altogether. Instead, humans used magic circles to cast spells, which functioned as output valves for their mana. In contrast, beasts wielded mana directly through their cores, making their usage more instinctual than structured.
However, in battle, most mana cores shattered before they could be extracted. Prolonged fights forced beasts to overuse their cores, causing them to break from within. High-ranking adventurers had learned the art of swift, lethal strikes to retrieve intact cores, making them highly valuable. For nobles, these high-ranking monster cores were more than just resources—they were trophies. Displayed in their halls, they were proof of might, wealth, and the ability to slay formidable creatures with ease.
Mana stones, on the other hand, were pure amalgamations of mana. Unlike mana cores, which could regenerate when inside a monster's body, mana stones were single-use. Once fully depleted, they crumbled into dust, making them a finite but immensely powerful energy source. Because of their high purity and massive mana reserves, they were the primary fuel for magic tools, artifacts, and advanced spell formations.
When a mana stone gained sentience, it became a Spirit. Defeating a Spirit resulted in a mana stone drop, which was why magic-focused civilizations treasured them above all.
Despite their temporary usability, Zegion saw untapped potential in mana cores. Scholars had long attempted to create an artificial mana pathway system to recharge and reuse them, but all had failed. Without a living body to supply mana, cores simply depleted and became useless.
But what if that changed?
Zegion sat cross-legged on a makeshift stone table, a dimly glowing mana core resting in his hands. His fingers twitched slightly, and thin, hair-like strands of mana extended outward from his fingertips, attempting to connect to the dormant pathways of the core—the same pathways that once linked it to a living creature.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. Delicate. Fragile. Intricate. This was not the crude channeling of battle but the precision of a surgeon threading a needle through a shattered tapestry. He had to reach the tiny fractures where the core once connected to its monster host's mana pathway.
Just as he was about to complete a link—
A rustling noise from outside shattered his concentration.
His instincts flared.
In an instant, he stood up, mana spreading outward like an invisible net, scanning the surroundings. His senses locked onto a familiar mana signature.
"Remy!! What are you doing here?!" he barked.
A chuckle echoed from outside, smug and teasing. A moment later, a figure in a hooded coat stepped into view, golden strands of hair peeking from beneath the hood's shadow.
"Hohoho! What's this? Our dear Zegion, hiding away in a cave like some back-alley sorcerer?"
Zegion groaned, rubbing his temples. Remy. The money-loving trickster. The last person he wanted near his research.
With a flourish, she pulled back her hood, revealing a mischievous grin and sharp, brown cat-like eyes that glinted with amusement. The morning sun cast a soft glow on her face, emphasizing the playful smirk she always carried.
"Tsk, tsk. You really should improve your security, Z. I walked in here easier than a drunk noble at a rigged gambling table."
Zegion exhaled sharply. "There were traps."
"Oh, I know." Remy plopped herself onto a nearby rock, crossing her legs. "They were adorable. You call those alarms? Please. Even a half-blind rock-headed boar would've dodged them."
Zegion pinched the bridge of his nose. This woman was impossible.
"What do you want, Remy?"
Remy grinned. "Oh, nothing much. Just curious, really. You sneak off into the woods every day, looking all mysterious. Naturally, I had to check." She leaned forward, eyeing the glowing mana core still on the table. "And now I see… you're playing with dead monster parts?"
Zegion crossed his arms. "It's research."
"Mhmm. And what exactly are you researching?"
He debated for a moment before answering. "The recharging of mana cores."
Remy's eyebrows shot up. "Recharging? Hah! You mean the same thing that thousands of scholars, over generations, have tried and failed at? That recharging?"
Zegion's stare was flat. "Yes."
Remy burst into laughter. "You're insane."
Zegion shrugged. "So were the ones who thought those old ruins were empty—until they started uncovering ancient artifacts again."
Remy wiped a tear from her eye. "Alright, genius. Let's say you actually succeed—what then? You planning on selling recharging mana cores? Because if so, I hope you're ready to single-handedly overthrow half the merchant guilds in Pluto."
Zegion's lips twitched. "Not my concern."
"Not yet." Remy's gaze sharpened. "But it will be. Do you even understand what this could mean? The mana stone market alone—"
Zegion held up a hand. "I am not selling. Not yet, anyway. Right now, I just want to see if it's possible."
Remy exhaled, shaking her head with a grin. "Fine, fine. I won't pry… for now. But if you do make this work? Oh, Zegion—you and I are going to be very, very rich."
Zegion rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd think of profit first."
Remy winked. "Naturally. Someone has to."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the tension fading into familiarity.
Then Remy stood, dusting off her coat, but instead of leaving, she let out a sigh. "Alright, move over. If you're really serious about this, you're going to need someone who actually knows how to handle delicate materials."
Zegion raised an eyebrow. "You're staying?"
Remy smirked. "Of course. You think I'd pass up the chance to tinker with something scholars have been failing at for centuries? Besides, if this works, I want a piece of the credit."
Zegion shook his head but didn't argue. "Fine. Just don't break anything."
Remy rolled up her sleeves and sat across from him, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "No promises."
With that, the two got to work, side by side, the air in the cave now charged with excitement and discovery.
As they worked, Zegion suddenly spoke up. "You know, I've been thinking about slimes."
Remy blinked. "Slimes? What do blobs of goo have to do with this?"
Zegion smirked. "Think about it. A slime doesn't have organs, right? Its entire body is its core. It can absorb mana from the environment and distribute it seamlessly throughout itself."
Remy leaned back, considering. "So you're saying… slimes naturally do what we're trying to replicate?"
Zegion nodded. "Exactly. If we can find a way to simulate that same mechanism—where a mana core can passively absorb ambient mana just like a slime does—we might have a breakthrough."
Remy scratched her chin. "That's not a bad lead. Slimes don't have mana pathways like beasts or humans, but they still manage to circulate mana freely. If we can create an artificial structure to mimic that…"
Zegion tapped the core on the table. "Then we might finally have a way to recharge these things."
Remy grinned. "Alright, now I'm really interested. Let's see if we can make this work."