The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

After finishing the hectic schedule, the first thing I did was examine my body and solve the problem of the dark mana inside.

As I did, my gaze fell on the small egg at the corner.Taking a look, I turned my sight.

"Sorry body, I can’t feed you today."

Unlike the game, this thing was really dangerous and every time it touched my wound, it started sucking my blood like a vortex.That’s why I decided to collect my blood and then pour it on.

"Let’s get this started."

I opened a book on mana circulation, the fundamental book everyone got, and skipped the pages, reading it aloud.

"Mana circulation is achieved by aligning your breathing with the flow of mana in your veins. Begin with slow, steady breaths. Inhale to draw mana into your meridians, and exhale to guide it through your body. The mana flows like blood, nourishing your muscles, organs, and mind."

"Focus on creating a cycle. Starting from your limbs, let the energy spiral toward your torso, then back out through your extremities. Maintain balance and avoid forcing. Mana should flow naturally, breaking through blockages over time. Regular practice strengthens the veins and enhances the body’s capacity to store and replenish mana."

Remembering the description, I tried it, but as the dark mana moved, I felt pain. For that, I researched and found some things.

For example, mana occurs in various forms. The first is basic pure mana or life mana, followed by mana imbued with elemental traits like cold mana, fiery mana, and so on, depending on attributes.

For assemblage, a person’s body should be adaptable and not resist it. If you don’t have an affinity with fire elements and take in fiery mana, you are asking to be burned.

Attribute and affinity played a role. In my case, I was holding a time bomb.

It was death mana, which occurs during the destruction of life and can only be found within the dead, but the entire abyss was filled with it. This mana has corrosive properties that eat away at the lifespan of a person touching it.

"Since I have inherited the class from death itself, the ritual where my body was burned by darkish flames must have modified my physique. Though my body can now withstand the death mana, mixing it with pure mana is causing problems."

Like mixing fire and water.

"Life and death are something that can’t be harnessed together, so I can’t utilize death mana by storing it in my body."

If it were anyone else, this might be an unsolvable problem that could persist throughout life, but not for me.

Wiping out my sweat, I opened another very old book.

A book to create mana cores.

During the beginning times, people used to store mana in cores and just take it out when needed. Many fantasy games and novels use this power-up concept, but there was a very big fault in it.

A mana core isn’t an elusive spiritual body; rather, it’s a part similar to an organ that resides in the torso. Unlike monsters, where core placement and origins differ according to species, the best place for humans is undoubtedly the torso.

Now, this was a big problem because if, by chance, an opponent struck you there and the weapon touched the core, it would be destroyed, and you would end up crippled.

Fighting while trying to save your core was vexing, so it was abandoned later, and with God’s blessing, everyone gained access to the Akasha System to see stats and blessings.

Using the stat screen, people concluded that it was better to focus on using their entire body as storage, with the system helping them efficiently keep tabs on progress.

"Since no one creates a core, many people won’t even know I have it unless they have a special eye. And even if it gets destroyed, it won’t affect much as it’s just a lifeline, not my primary means."

In the game, there was a character who was unable to store mana in veins but managed to create a core. It was through his outlook that the brief history of cores was reflected.

"If I didn’t take my chances to play the hidden route, I might have fucked up for real."

Sitting cross-legged, I stared at the old book resting before me, its fragile pages outlining the art of mana circulation.

"To circulate mana," I read, "begin at the navel, your core, and guide the energy through your meridians in a steady flow. Patience is key. Resistance may cause strain, even pain. But with perseverance, the body adapts."

I closed my eyes, steadying my breath as I focused on the dark, tar-like mana residue clogging my meridians. Slowly, I pushed it forward. At first, an icy chill spread through my body, numbing me to the point of discomfort.

My skin prickled as if a thousand tiny insects were crawling beneath the surface, sending waves of goosebumps up my arms and neck. The sensation froze me in place, a cold so deep it felt like my veins had turned to ice.

Then came the pain.

The chill was abruptly overtaken by searing heat, as though molten lava had been poured through my veins. My muscles spasmed uncontrollably, each nerve screaming in protest. It felt like shards of glass were being dragged through every inch of my body, slicing through me from the inside out. I couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that escaped my lips, my jaw clenching so tightly I thought my teeth might crack.

My arms trembled as the mana inched forward, scraping against the walls of my meridians like a jagged stone caught in a narrow pipe. My chest tightened, the air in my lungs replaced by a suffocating pressure. Sweat drenched my body, mixing with the icy numbness—the sensation like frost melting over an open wound.

I wanted to stop. My body begged me to stop. But I couldn’t—not if I wanted to survive in this world.

I grit my teeth and pushed harder, forcing the dark energy to flow. The freezing cold and unbearable heat battled within me, a torturous cycle that blurred my thoughts. My vision swam behind closed eyes, but I held firm. This wasn’t just pain—it was the cost of control, the price of power.

As the final wave of agony ripped through me, I collapsed forward, my palms slamming onto the cold floor. My breathing was ragged, my limbs shaking uncontrollably. Yet, somewhere deep inside, the mana began to settle, the residue dispersing just enough to leave a faint glimmer of success.

Through the haze of exhaustion, I whispered to myself, "One step closer."

I slumped forward, my chest heaving as I fought to steady my breath. The dark mana inside me churned angrily, but I could feel it—a tiny wisp breaking away from the chaotic mass. With trembling focus, I directed it toward my torso.

It resisted, clawing at my veins like it wanted to tear me apart, but I didn’t let up. Bit by bit, I forced it into a rough shape, condensing it into a small, crude ball. It wasn’t perfect—far from the mana core I needed—but it was progress.

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I leaned back, my limbs shaking like they’d been through a war. "Not quite a core," I muttered, staring at the faint glow in my torso, "but I’m getting closer."

Clenching my fists, I pushed myself upright. "A few more tries," I whispered, determination burning through the exhaustion, "and I can finally harness this death energy."