Reinhild might be ignorant of human life and culture, but when it came to mana stones and mana, he was well-versed.
Until now, he’d simply been too drained, so hollowed out of mana that he couldn’t make sound judgments.
That’s why he hadn’t really known how much mana he’d been absorbing through the mana stone, or what state the stone was in.
He hadn’t cared, and he’d assumed the reason the stone’s mana wasn’t depleting fast was because he was absorbing so little.
But this time he was certain he’d noticed the mana inside the stone decrease.
He’d been paying that much attention, working hard to draw mana from it.
It definitely went up.
If the mana he’d drained by half the previous day was now completely full again, even dull Reinhild couldn’t miss it.
Anyone could see something was off.
Once drained, a mana stone’s power doesn’t refill.
Never.
Well… maybe not never.
There is a way to refill one. It’s so inefficient you’re better off fetching a new stone, though.
In any case, Reinhild hadn’t refilled this one.
Nor would a stone recharge itself.
Which meant…
“Awake already, Rein?”
Sensing Xion’s presence as he entered the room, Reinhild stared fixedly at him.
Did Xion put mana into it?
It didn’t even occur to Reinhild that Xion might have swapped the stone out.
The stone was tightly tied to its cord, and that cord was around Reinhild’s neck, so of course he assumed this was the same stone from last night.
So Xion had that kind of ability.
The reason refilling an empty stone is inefficient is that most of the mana is lost in the transfer.
You have to pour in a whole bucket to get a mere handful to take.
Since you’re going to spend mana anyway, doing that is a waste.
On top of that, cramming mana into a stone requires extremely delicate control.
Hardly the sort of thing a country farmer could do.
“Did something unpleasant happen? You don’t look happy.”
“I dreamed the imperial citadel collapsed.”
“A bad dream, then.”
It had actually been delightful, but this wasn’t the time to savor it.
Even as he drank the warm milk Xion brought and ate a hearty breakfast, Reinhild kept mulling it over.
It was nothing major, but once the question had arisen, he couldn’t stop wondering.
How had he gotten the mana into the stone?
If Xion had that ability, couldn’t he just transfer mana directly to help Reinhild recover?
Reinhild wore a vague, absent look and worried over it all day long.
Night fell again after a day had passed, and even as he lay side by side with Xion in bed, the thought returned.
He still slept well, though.
Again?
When he checked the next morning, the stone’s mana was full to the brim once more.
This time he’d barely worked his mana at all, so even though the stone hadn’t emptied, it had been refilled.
Reinhild’s doubts only deepened.
Could it have been full every time, even back then?
He’d thought that ever since Xion first gave him the necklace, he’d been working his mana with that same stone right up until it shattered from overuse.
But what if that wasn’t true?
What if, just like now, the stone had been refilled every time?
It was a ludicrous hypothesis. If the stone had held that much mana each time, would Reinhild’s recovered mana really amount to only this?
I thought my body was too weak to absorb more mana…
He calmly placed a hand over his chest and focused on the flow of mana.
It was definitely lacking.
He’d tried harder than ever to draw it in, but less than a quarter of what he’d hoped for remained in his heart.
It seemed that during the process of channeling, the mana wasn’t being absorbed and was scattering instead.
This won’t do.
Xion had gone to the trouble of refilling the stone, and he was wasting it. That was serious.
If Xion noticed how slow his recovery was, he’d worry. Reinhild didn’t want to worry him.
I have to find a way.
For several days Reinhild did everything he could to monitor his condition.
It wasn’t easy. But after all that trouble, he found something.
Mana that should have pooled in his heart and become his own was dispersing and vanishing after a few hours.
What is this?
Once he realized that, Reinhild panicked.
At this rate, it might take hundreds of years to recover his mana.
No way!
Seeing him silently suffer, Xion made him bread coated in chocolate.
It cheered him up.
No! He couldn’t be swayed by mere choco bread.
What do I do!
Reinhild clutched his head and worried anew.
Even if the hero’s sword had damaged his heart, it didn’t make sense for mana to leak away like this.
That left only one possibility.
Someone was interfering with the accumulation.
“…”
Reinhild reflexively looked at Xion.
After all, the only ones here were Xion and himself.
“Rein.”
Xion took his hand, eyes full of concern.
“If something’s wrong, you must tell me.”
“Mm… it’s nothing.”
Reinhild averted his gaze as he answered.
As expected of the perceptive Xion.
He’d acted so hard like nothing was wrong, and Xion had noticed already.
Unaware that Xion had long since sensed his worries, Reinhild resolved to act even more nonchalant.
“Rein.”
“I mean it.”
Reinhild wound arms and legs around Xion, practically clinging to him.
It was only to precisely check whether his mana dispersed under Xion’s influence, but it also had the side effect of shutting Xion up when he’d been about to start a serious conversation.
Pressed close to Xion, Reinhild closed his eyes to feel the movement of mana.
It felt somehow like snooping behind Xion’s back, and his heart pounded.
Focus.
He tried to focus.
He really did, but at that moment something touched his lips.
Soft, moist, familiar. He knew exactly what it was without opening his eyes.
He needed to concentrate, but he couldn’t. The strength went out of Reinhild’s arms around Xion, and then Xion slid an arm around Reinhild’s back and drew him into his embrace.
Thump-thump-thump.
His heart beat even faster than before.
This isn’t it!
But Reinhild neither opened his eyes nor pushed Xion away.
And so, another day passed with nothing to show for it.
❖ ❖ ❖
There had been a few mishaps, but after countless attempts Reinhild finally traced where the scattered mana was going.
It really was Xion.
Lying on the bed pretending to stare at the ceiling as if nothing were wrong, he struggled to maintain his composure.
Xion was interfering with the accumulation of mana.
Xion. No one else!
He’s not doing it on purpose.
Whenever Xion was nearby, the mana pooled in Reinhild’s body bled away bit by bit.
If Xion had been deliberately sabotaging his training, the effects would have been far more drastic.
So this had to be unintentional.
Without even realizing it, Xion was hindering Reinhild’s practice.
If Xion didn’t know, it might be due to an innate ability he was born with.
Or perhaps it was that blood-stained sword said to be in the basement. Clearly not an ordinary curse.
Right, so that’s it!
The reason his mana hadn’t built up wasn’t that he was an incompetent Demon King.
He was being thwarted by an irresistible force!
In that case, it can’t be helped.
Now that he had an excuse for failing to recover despite the stone’s help, Reinhild lifted his shoulders in satisfaction.
It was a serious problem, but now that he knew the cause, all he had to do was fix it.
First, I need to identify exactly what’s interfering with me.
Reinhild didn’t intend to confess this to Xion. Not one hair’s worth.
He didn’t want to see Xion feeling guilty or blaming himself.
If Xion decided to keep his distance for the sake of Reinhild’s recovery, he would be unbearably lonely.
If this phenomenon came from an innate ability Xion himself didn’t know about, then Reinhild would have to tell him and find a compromise—but if the cause was an artifact, Reinhild could handle it alone.
I’ll take care of everything before Xion notices.
He was confident.
First, he had to determine whether the interference came from Xion, or from an artifact or some other object.
If it was Xion, he’d figure out a solution then.
But if it wasn’t, he’d thoroughly search the house and gather anything that looked like an artifact. While he was at it, he’d check any cursed or blessed items too.
Oh, and of course he wouldn’t even go near the basement.
If the artifact hampering him was down there… well, that would be a bit troublesome. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
Once I find the artifact that’s hindering me, I’ll haul it far away and dump it.
Dumping it at the lake where he’d met that madman wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Ah, had that lake vanished? Then he’d take it to some other village nearby and toss it.
A perfect plan.
Reinhild had yet to realize one thing:
That none of the plans he thought were perfect had ever gone the way he intended—not even once.
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