The Last Archmage Reborn as the Forgotten Heir

Chapter 02

The first two steps of Felix Weaver lasted for only a pair of movements.

Crash!

Kaelan’s body slammed back into the wet, cold ground of the alley. His right elbow scraped against the rough asphalt, tearing open the new layer of skin that had just formed over the wound. Fresh blood oozed slowly, creeping between the puddles of rainwater.

"...Hah."

Felix let out a short breath. A faint chuckle escaped the corners of his lips.

"Truly pathetic."

He forced both of his arms to prop up his weight. The muscles beneath his young skin trembled violently. A wave of sharp pain pierced from his shoulders, struck his chest, and spread down to his waist, like thousands of invisible needles stabbing him all at once.

This vessel refused to move.

Felix looked down, staring at his palms covered in purplish bruises.

"No wonder you died."

The sentence slipped out without burden, devoid of any remaining empathy. He was not hurling insults at the original owner, but rather delivering an objective verdict.

Felix’s eyelids grew immensely heavy, then closed. His consciousness plunged deep into the physical layers that were now his own.

Heartbeat. Bloodstream. Bone structure. Muscle tissue.

Everything laid bare before his mind's eye, clear as an anatomical map.

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed slightly a few seconds later.

"Three fractured ribs."

"Left arm nearly broken."

"Internal bleeding around the abdomen."

His consciousness crept deeper, piercing through the darkest boundaries. "...And a critical loss of blood volume."

Felix’s face tightened. Kaelan’s physical condition far exceeded the limits of ordinary human tolerance. Had he been just a few minutes late to take over this vessel.

No!

Felix shook his head slowly, correcting his own thought.

"Not a few minutes."

This vessel’s heart had stopped beating. Its breath had cut off completely. Kaelan’s consciousness had vanished, swallowed by the void long before Felix’s soul took over this place.

That was the only reason he could enter.

The old soul had already departed, leaving behind a hollow shell that was nearly rotting away.

Felix slowly opened his eyes. The alley's darkness greeted his sharp gaze.

"Your life is indeed over." His voice whispered thinly, as if mourning a spirit that no longer had ears to listen. "But I will let this vessel rot away alongside your ambitions."

He pressed his left palm hard against the center of his chest.

Thud.

A weak pulse crawled from behind his sternum.

Thud... Thud...

Kaelan’s heart began to race again. Slow. Lame. Barely missing a rhythm. Yet, it was valid proof that the organ was still alive.

The corner of Felix’s lip curled upward.

"At least you still know how to work."

Drizzling rain fell once more from the gloomy sky, striking Kaelan’s strands of black hair and washing his blood-stained face.

Felix raised his right hand, taking a deep breath to focus his concentration. Deep within the depths of his soul, the battered Mana Core pulsed faintly.

Extremely faintly.

A thread of purple mana slipped out of the Mana Core. Thin. Fragile. Nearly vanishing before reaching the tip of his finger. That was all. Only the remnants of power that small were what he could squeeze out.

"A little... but enough."

He bit the tip of his thumb until it tore. A drop of fresh blood fell, clinging to the palm of his left hand. The moment that crimson liquid touched his skin, the purple glow in the air struck instantly, weaving itself into an intricate geometric pattern.

A rune. Ancient. Simple. A recovery rune of the most basic level.

The light flared blindingly for a moment, and then Felix pressed his palm right against his chest.

Whoosh...

A warm sensation crawled quickly through all his blood vessels. The torn wounds on his face closed on their own, while the blood flow at his temples gradually receded. The torn fabric and flesh on his elbow shrank into a thin red scratch.

However...

Crack!

An excruciating pain pierced his chest cavity, striking his broken ribs mercilessly.

"Ugh...!"

Felix spat a mouthful of fresh blood onto the ground. The rune on his palm suddenly shattered into pieces, and the purple glow extinguished instantly without a trace.

He leaned weakly against the damp, cold concrete wall.

"Mana is exhausted."

His body did feel slightly lighter than before, but the pain hammering his internal organs had not vanished at all. He tried to draw wisps of mana directly from the open air.

Empty.

Or rather, virtually nonexistent.

Felix looked up, staring at the gloomy night sky with a probing gaze.

"So this is the quality of mana in this world." A cold aura accompanied his disappointed sigh. "Utterly barren."