How to Survive as a Dungeon Manager in Another World

Episode 17 – The Ring of Ifrasia

‘…Is it over?’

I watched Helheste turn to ash and scatter.

The remaining bones stood stark, like a buried fossil unearthed.

I swallowed a sigh, doing my best to conceal my trembling hands.

‘…Almost died, for real.’

I glanced back.

Ludine still stood there, frozen with a blank expression.

The reason being, intimidation.

At its core, a psychic assault.

Elite-tier monsters and above radiate this skill as a matter of course, and Ludine was paralyzed, body rigid, by its aftereffects.

No matter how strong Ludine is, this is why subjugating Helheste is impossible at this stage.

Of course, possessing no mana, I remained unaffected.

If I hadn’t absorbed the Rune of Time?

We would’ve just died together, a fitting end, perhaps.

A situation explainable only by sheer, unbelievable luck.

When the final incantation succeeded, an overflowing relief washed over me, coaxing forth an involuntary laugh.

‘Now, what am I going to do about this?’

I possess no mana.

I forfeited it as the price for absorbing the Rune.

Even so, the reason I can wield this power is that the ability absorbed through the runes consumes a special resource called “Mindscape” (心象), not mana.

The crucial point here is that Mindscape is a finite resource.

Depleted mana replenishes over time, but depleted Mindscape does not.

The sequence of Acceleration, Return, Time, and End—a chain of spells—is one of my hidden arts, capable of instantly slaying ordinary magical beasts without fail.

Naturally, the Mindscape consumed is also immense, which is why I scraped together every last mote I had remaining.

If Mindscape runs out, I’ll have no choice but to absorb another rune.

But even that isn’t easy.

Runes are hardly commonplace, being one of the rare anomalies of this world.

Of course, it’s not as though there’s *no* other way.

If one were to obtain the miracle of Yggdrasil, they could replenish Mindscape without having to absorb runes.

“Rudine.”

I moved towards Rudine, who stood there with a blank expression.

It seemed the aftereffects of the oppressive force hadn’t yet faded.

“Can you move?”

“…Yes.”

She barely managed to nod.

Her entire body was still trembling, but she seemed capable of movement.

“…How did you do that?”

Rudine abruptly asked me as I brushed the dirt from my clothes.

Her gaze was as emotionless and inorganic as usual, but strangely, her voice trembled.

‘Is she asking how I moved?’

Or is she asking how I dealt with that monster in a single blow?

Well, I can understand, considering her naturally curious nature.

Moreover, being defeated so powerlessly must be an unfamiliar experience for her.

She probably never felt a sense of crisis in her life until now.

And look at those eyes, brimming with curiosity.

Naturally, she’ll have questions about me, having witnessed me instantly kill a magical beast that she couldn’t even touch with some strange technique.

She might even feel resentful that she’s been following along as part of the group, only to be completely useless.

Frankly, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she’s shocked.

However.

“How to even explain this?”

Tell her I sacrificed my mana to absorb runes?

Or that I knew how to use them because I’d read the original?

After a moment’s consideration,

I parted my lips slightly.

“Sometimes, even just the presence of mana beasts, especially those of Grade Jae and higher, exudes a sort of pressure.”

“…Pressure?”

“Yeah. Something akin to killing intent, but it evokes a more… primal kind of fear, you could say.”

Rudine stood there, blankly blinking.

I couldn’t fault her for not understanding.

She’s probably never encountered a Grade Jae mana beast in her life, so it’s natural she wouldn’t know.

“But, you see, I don’t have any mana.”

“You don’t have mana?”

“Nope. So it doesn’t work on me.”

“…Lies.”

Can’t be helped if she doesn’t believe me.

Couldn’t give a better explanation, even if I tried.

Glancing at me wouldn’t change a thing.

We didn’t have time to linger here anyway. We’d arrived at Westmarch, so it was time to set out and find Mirkdraesil.

“Come on.”

“…Okay.”

We walked along a path cut through the withered trees.

Thankfully, no other mana beasts appeared after our encounter with Hellheist.

But something felt off.

The forest was too quiet.

Not a single insect chirped, not even the sound of wind could be heard.

‘Truly a ruin.’

It was a different atmosphere than usual for Blackmore.

Excessively silent, one might say.

Footsteps alone echoed in the void.

A small mercy, at least.

‘Arrived proper, then.’

I turned slowly, taking in my surroundings.

The trees were each and every one blackened, as if seared by flame.

And not just the trees, no.

Soil, gravel, undergrowth… nothing escaped unscathed.

This was how the corruption of Mirkdraasir spread in the original story.

Surveying the area, I tried to get my bearings.

True to its reputation as the elves’ homeland, even a mere village was vast, considerably so.

‘…Where’s the temple supposed to be?’

Mirkdraasir stood at the center of a certain temple.

But my memory was hazy, and besides, the process of finding one’s way was largely omitted in the original work.

What to do, what to do.

Just gotta pound the pavement, I suppose.

Of course, Ludine, utterly clueless, trailed behind me, her face holding a touch of sulkiness.

After navigating winding paths for what felt like hours, Ludine halted.

Her gaze was fixed on a dead end; a wall surface crisscrossed with hairlines that resembled cracks in gold.

“Ludine.”

“Hm.”

“Smash it.”

KWA-KOO-KWA-KWANG!

Barely had the words left my mouth than Ludine’s dagger cleaved through the wall.

Beyond it lay ashen ruins.

Collapsed pillars plunged into the earth, and shattered statues were scattered hither and yon.

The sheer scale was immense, but the architectural style was undeniably, quintessentially elven.

No doubt about it.

This was definitely…

‘Kazkajit.’

Kazkajit.

In ages forgotten, a sanctuary where the Elves gathered, worshipping the World Tree, the source of life.

“…”

Upon entry, a chilling wind caressed the skin.

With each footstep, crumbling fragments of stone shattered beneath.

Frankly, the path was in such disrepair that even walking was a struggle.

Moreover, the ceiling had collapsed, black weeds sprouting in every corner, and withered vines coiled around the pillars.

‘The atmosphere is insane.’

Gulp.

I swallowed hard, a lump lodging in the back of my throat amidst the eerie ambiance.

‘It should be around here.’

Slowly, I navigated around the debris, moving forward.

From the moment I found the temple, the original story’s information was no longer omitted, so there was no chance of getting lost.

I rounded winding paths time and again.

And after turning the final bend, heading straight towards the shimmering light beyond…

“Ah.”

Found it.

Raising my head, I saw a colossal silhouette.

Swoosh—

With each gust of wind, the withered branches creaked and groaned.

The blackened trunk stretched to the very end of the sky, and the roots spread in all directions, as if tearing the earth apart.

“Mirkdrasil…”

I finally found it.

The tree of death, nourished by the blood of Elves, stood right before me.

“…Murals?”

Ludyne murmured, gazing at the murals carved into the wall.

It depicted two trees embracing each other.

One, a tree of life, reaching upwards.

The other, a tree of death, growing downwards.

The intertwining forms of life and death.

A flow of light and darkness coursing between the two trees.

And at the center of it all, those ancient characters inscribed.

Sephiroth and Qliphoth.

Symbols of a sacred rite, once worshipped by the Elves.

“Luke.”

Rudine’s voice echoed, calm and steady.

Turning, I saw her eyes beginning to stain crimson.

A sign that the Heavenly Slaughter Star was reacting to this place.

And then.

[Oh, Pilgrim, burdened with a mighty task, declare the purpose of thy visitation to this hallowed ground.]

Just as when absorbing runes, an indescribable, grotesque voice pierced my eardrums, resonating deep within my mind.

This far, it unfolded precisely as I remembered.

I recalled the protagonist’s lines from the original work, and slowly opened my mouth.

“I offer tribute.”

Wooong—

Barely managing to steady my swaying body.

A maelstrom of magical energy whipped my hair into a frenzy.

[Declare the price of thy tribute.]

“I desire the Rite of Covenant.”

The instant those final words were uttered.

Everything around me plunged into an abyssal black.

Countless stars embroidered the void, densely packed.

They moved as though possessed of their own will, weaving into the form of a tree.

I slowly opened my mouth.

“In the name of the eternal Ifrasia.”

As the first phrase was spoken, the very space subtly vibrated.

“Recalling the forgotten rite.”

With the second phrase, the stars forming the tree began to faintly glow.

“I enact the covenant of life and death.”

The moment the final phrase was completed.

The space warped, rippling like water.

[O Pilgrim, burdened with the Karma of Ifrasia. May the Grace of Life attend thee, oh scion of the Great Ma (魔).]

“…?”

Scion of the Ma?

Weren’t the Dragonkin the only race to bear such a title?

Kugugung.

As the grandiose rite concluded, and the ebony-stained vision returned to normalcy, Rudine was gaping at me, her lips moving soundlessly.

And.

Upon the open palm of her outstretched right hand rested a ring.

“…Oh.”

The Ring of Ifrasia.

The only artifact capable, in some small measure, of controlling the Heavenly Star of Slaughter.