Vol3 Chapter 36 Truly Bizarre

Amos lingered over the corpse for a few more seconds before crouching to get a closer look. The pale, stone-like flesh was already losing its odd rigidity, though the cracks across its body stayed the same. Dark fluid from its wounds had pooled slowly across the ancient floor. He reached toward the severed head.

Interesting.

Even in death, there was no trace of mana from it, which was strange enough on its own.

He pulled a magic storage pouch from his belt—plain on the outside, but far larger within than it seemed. Amos carefully gathered parts of the creature: the severed head, a chunk of its arm, a section of its torso, and some of the odd dark fluid that had pooled on the floor. Carrying the whole corpse wasn’t an option.

There was no need. A few samples would be enough for examination later.

I'll figure out what you are once I'm somewhere safer.

He sealed the pouch, his expression turning serious once more. The relief he might have expected after defeating the creature never arrived. Instead, a different thought crept into his mind.

That was an S-rank ruin.

Amos took a slow glance down the corridor. The traces were still there—faint disturbances in the dust, subtle marks etched along the stone. Something had definitely come this way, and it was headed in the same direction as the A-rank team.

If that was the only monster here, they should be able to handle it.

An A-rank team wasn’t made up of rookies. They were seasoned adventurers, likely stepping into these ruins fully aware of the dangers ahead. A single creature like that would be trouble, sure—but still within their ability to handle. Or so Amos tried to tell himself. His face grew grim.

But what if it isn't the only one?

The thought lingered.

He glanced at the remains in the pouch.

A monster that shrugged off magic.

One whose strange attacks left no trace of mana.

Fast and powerful enough to push him to the brink in close quarters.

And all of this, in a place marked as an S-rank ruin.

What if something like that is just the weakest thing living here?

Amos's grip tightened around the strap of his pouch.

The thought wasn’t pleasant. There might be another one, or maybe five, or even dozens.

His eyes traveled deeper into the darkness.

What if the A-rank team hasn't encountered this thing yet?

Then corrected himself.

No.

The tracks told a different story. They’d been coming this way, which meant there was a good chance the team had already run into it.

Amos followed the traces carefully, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

Left, right, ceiling, floor—every intersection, every collapsed passage, every shadow that seemed just a bit darker than the rest.

I really don't like this.

The deeper he ventured, the more unsettled he felt. There were no monsters, no insects, no hint of movement Nothing at all. For a ruin this ancient, the silence felt eerily wrong.

Did that creature kill everything else?

A terrible possibility.

Or perhaps—

Everything else is hiding.

That thought was worse.

If even the monsters inhabiting an S-rank ruin were avoiding a particular creature, then there was a chance that creature wasn't the apex predator.

It might simply be one of them.

And if there were multiple creatures with the same properties...

Amos exhaled slowly.

"...That would be troublesome."

He kept walking, the signs growing clearer. Something had fought here—scratches scored the walls, broken stone littered ground, and a deep dent marred the floor. Amos crouched beside it, running his fingers along the edge.

They were here.

The A-rank team had passed through this area.

And judging from the damage.

They fought something.

I need to find them.

His sword slid slightly from its sheath.

***

Amos pressed on into the darkness, tracing their path through the telltale signs—the shifted dust, the sporadic scratches on the walls, and the scattered remnants of a fight.

But there was another way.

Amos raised a hand toward his face.

The Veil Ring.

He usually kept it on. It hid the true nature of his eyes and, more importantly, dulled the overwhelming amount of information they could take in. It also kept his mana signature from being so obviously exposed. Taking it off here wasn’t the best idea Any monsters lurking in these ruins would sense him far more easily.

And considering the creature he had just fought...

That was hardly reassuring.

Amos's fingers paused.

If I keep it on, I might miss something.

He glanced down the corridor.

And if the A-rank team is still alive, finding them takes priority.

He removed the ring.

The change was instant. The world came into sharp focus, and mana became visible—not just the concentrated bursts from spells, but the subtle remnants, the faint currents, the countless tiny traces drifting everywhere.

Or rather—

They should have existed everywhere.

Amos’s expression shifted gradually as he stood frozen in place. His eyes swept the corridor—left, right, up, down—pausing on the stone walls, then the floor, and finally the ceiling. His brow knit in thought.

...What?

He looked again.

Nothing.

No—wait. Not nothing.

There was mana, but only in faint traces, small remnants clinging to the surroundings like stubborn stains.

Amos slowly extended his perception farther.

Still nothing. No natural flow, no ambient mana, no stray energy drifting through the air. No faint accumulation in the stone, no subtle circulation between the environment and the atmosphere. Nothing at all.

His breathing stopped for a moment and his heartbeat quicken.

That's impossible.

Mana was everywhere—not just within living beings, but woven into the very fabric of the world itself. It lingered in the air, flowed through the earth, swirled in water, thrived in plants, and settled in stone. Everything held traces of it. Even places untouched by magic still carried stray mana. It was one of the most basic truths of existence.

Yet here—

There was nothing.

Amos slowly turned his head, and the truth sank in.

This place doesn't contain natural mana.

His eyes widened slightly, a genuine unease crossed his face.

He raised his hand, a tiny spatial distortion appearing between his fingers. Mana gathered, the spell took shape—then vanished. Amos stared at the spot where it had been.

There was a faint residue left behind—a thin thread of mana, his own. He glanced around again, sensing only the mana that had been brought into the ruin. His spatial magic had left its mark, as had the A-rank adventurers.

Everything else—

Was absent.

So the mana isn't being hidden.

He narrowed his eyes.

It's simply not here.

His eyes swept the corridor, picking up faint traces—some so subtle they nearly blended into the stone. Without the Veil Ring, Amos could now tell them apart: a flicker of fire mana, a warding spell, something like healing magic, and several overlapping signatures.

They came this way.

Amos crouched, studying the traces with greater care. The lingering mana was aged, but not so much that it had fully faded. He trailed it for several meters before halting. Another trace emerged—stronger, fresher. Something had gone down here. His expression tightened.

Spell casted.

His gaze swept over the walls, catching faint scratches here and there, a section of stone split and worn, and traces of mana lingering from several different spells.

Amos stood still, gazing into the darkness ahead. The strange monster from before suddenly seemed less significant. Its absence of mana had been unusual—now he realized just how much. It wasn’t just the creature. The entire ruin was unnatural.

That explains it.

The creature’s attacks, its bizarre form, its uncanny resistance to magic, and the total absence of any recognizable mana signature made Amos’s fingers tighten slightly.

Maybe it isn't that the monster possesses no mana.

His eyes shifted toward the darkness.

Maybe this place doesn't allow natural mana to exist in the first place.

He immediately dismissed the thought.

No.

It was too soon. He lacked the necessary information and still needed proof.  Amos followed their mana traces.

Whatever monsters were nearby could potentially detect him now.

If something is attracted to mana...

Amos's expression became grim.

Then I'm practically announcing myself.

He continued forward anyway.

Because there was something far more concerning.

If the ruin truly contained no natural mana, the monsters here had either evolved, endured, or come into existence under conditions entirely different from those of the outside world. Which meant the creature he’d faced might not have been the only one of its kind.

It might have been normal.

Please don't let that thing have been the weakest monster here.

Fine.

I can't rely on my usual method of detection.

If he couldn’t detect them through mana, he’d rely on everything else. First, he enhanced his hearing. The world fell silent—then erupted with sound. Every faint noise stood apart: air whispering through cracks in the stone dust shifting beneath his boots, distant water dripping, the faint creak of the ruin settling far away. Amos listened. Nothing. He pushed his hearing farther. Still nothing. His eyes narrowed. He heightened his sense of smell. Damp stone. Dust. Old blood. A faint metallic tang. And—something else.

He couldn't identify it.

Not yet.

But there was a scent lingering somewhere ahead.

Amos memorized it.

He sharpened his sense of touch—the air brushing against his skin, the faint vibrations through the floor under his feet, the subtle shifts whenever something moved in a far-off corridor. Nothing escaped him. His spatial awareness grew, not through mana detection, but by feeling the very shape of the space around him. Every hallway, every turn, each change in elevation, every small irregularity in the walls—piece by piece, he began to form a mental map.

Sight.

Hearing.

Smell.

Touch.

Vibration.

Anything.

Everything.

If something existed here, he wanted some way of knowing it was there before it reached him.

Amos began walking again, his steps growing lighter and his breathing slowing. His whole body slipped into a state of sharpened awareness. He’d battled countless monsters, ventured into dangerous places, and even faced foes whose abilities he couldn’t immediately grasp. But this place was different. Everywhere else, the world itself had always offered him information.

Mana flowed through the land, leaving traces behind. It linked everything together, offering subtle warnings. But here, the world remained still and silent.

I don't like this place.

Every step was careful, his senses on high alert. Nothing got past him—if something moved behind, he’d hear it; if it crept from a blind corner, he’d catch its scent. A step on the floor would send vibrations to his feet, and anything crossing his sightline wouldn’t escape his gaze. And if all else failed, he’d just have to stay alive long enough to figure out another way.

The A-rank team comes first.

If the A-rank adventurers were still alive, they needed to be found.

And once he found them—

Regroup with the Blue Wolfs.

That was the priority.

The Blue Wolfs were S-rank adventurers.

If something inside this ruin was beyond what an A-rank team could handle, then having another S-rank team nearby would change the situation considerably. Whatever was inside this ruin, facing it together would still be better than facing it alone.