Chapter 263: Anti-Mana

Even though Fauna was celebrated as a war hero, Mika knew the truth that most never saw.

She was also a victim of that same war.

The glory people spoke of had come at the cost of her peace. The things she had seen, the people she had lost, the screams she could never forget, they had left her broken inside.

Now, watching her tremble amidst the snow and ruin, Mika realized this was one of those moments where the past was bleeding into the present.

She was trapped in a memory she could never escape.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her lips whispering fragmented words, her eyes darting around as if she were standing in two worlds at once.

He had seen this before—long ago—but it had been years since it last happened. And the sight of it again made something heavy tighten in his chest.

Cecilia, who was beside him, looked nervous but not surprised. That alone told him everything.

"Does she always...become like this?" Mika asked softly, glancing at her.

"Yes." Cecilia nodded slowly, keeping her voice low. "Every time something like this happens, every time she sees a scene that reminds her of...of back then, she starts shaking like this."

"She mutters things under her breath, words we can’t make out. Sometimes I even hear her apologizing."

Her eyes softened as she watched Fauna.

"Usually, it passes after a few minutes. We just give her space. It’s best to leave her alone until it fades."

But Mika exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"A few minutes?" He scoffed. "I’m not waiting a few minutes."

Before Cecilia could protest, Mika stepped forward and walked straight up behind Fauna.

She was trembling so hard that even the feathers of her wings quivered faintly and her breath was ragged, as though she was whispering prayers to ghosts.

But then Mika reached out and placed both his hands on her shoulders.

And instantly, something changed.

It was subtle, almost invisible, but the air itself seemed to calm. Her shaking stopped within seconds, her wandering gaze froze, and her breathing slowed.

It was as if his very touch grounded her, like he had reached into the chaos in her mind and pulled her back to the present.

Slowly, Fauna’s head lifted. Her eyes refocused, color returning to them, and she turned slightly to see Mika standing there, looking down at her with quiet concern.

"Hey." He said in a calm, soothing tone. "You doing okay there, Fauna? You’re shaking like a leaf."

She blinked again, trying to focus on him.

I-"I’m fine." She said, forcing a small, brittle smile. "I’m totally fine. It’s just that...when I saw all of this, it reminded me of...something."

Her voice faltered.

"Something from back then."

"What happened?" Mika’s expression softened.

She hesitated for a long time before answering, her eyes drifting back to the snow.

"We had received reports—one of the Eternal Queen’s armies had attacked a village in the northern territories. A small settlement of the demi-humans. We rushed there as fast as we could, but..."

Her breath caught.

"...when we arrived, we were too late."

Cecilia lowered her gaze. Mika said nothing.

Fauna’s eyes glistened as she went on,

"The snow was red, Mika. There were bodies everywhere. Men, women, children...all frozen where they fell. It wasn’t a battlefield—it was a graveyard."

Her hands started to shake again.

"I-I even tried to pull a child from the snow—a little girl. But she...she was already gone. Her body was so cold that when I held her hand, it...it broke off in mine." Her voice cracked. "I was holding her hand, Mika. Her tiny hand. And I couldn’t even give her warmth anymore..."

Her body began trembling again as she covered her mouth, her shoulders shuddering.

"She must’ve been playing just moments before the attack. Laughing, maybe. And then...then she was gone."

Her shoulders began to shake violently again, and her knees nearly buckled.

Before she could fall, Mika stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind—pulling her into a firm, grounding embrace.

"Hey. Breathe." He whispered in her ear, his voice low and steady. "In and out. Slowly. Just breathe, Fauna. In...and out."

He drew in a slow, deep breath—and she mirrored him.

"In...and out." He whispered again. "Good. Again. In...and out."

She followed, shakily at first, but gradually, her breathing steadied. The trembling faded from her shoulders. Her tears slowed.

He paused for a moment, then exhaled through his nose before finally saying,

"I’m not going to tell you that the past doesn’t matter." He said, knowing just how to calm her down. "Or that it’ll all be alright, or that time heals everything."

"Because I know it’s not that simple. What you went through...that kind of thing doesn’t fade away." He looked down at her, his tone softer. "And honestly, I don’t even know if you’ll ever fully get over it."

Cecilia winced slightly at those words, shooting him a quick look of alarm.

’That’s not the kind of thing you tell someone with trauma.’ She thought.

But before she could intervene, he went on, his voice steady and purposeful.

"But what I will say..." Mika said, leaning slightly closer so his words reached her clearly through the storming wind. "...is that right now, there are hundreds of people buried beneath this mountain."

"People who are still alive—children, parents, brothers, sisters—all of them waiting for someone to find them. Waiting for someone to give them warmth, to heal their wounds, and to save their lives."

Fauna blinked, her breath hitching and Mika leaned closer, his eyes steady and unyielding.

"So tell me." He said quietly. "Are you going to keep worrying about the past? Or are you going to step forward like the saint you are...and save everyone here?"

The words struck deep. For a heartbeat, she stood frozen. But then, something ignited within her.

It was as if a spark had lit a flame in her chest. Her eyes brightened, glowing with renewed resolve. She clenched her small fists tightly and nodded.

"I’ll do it." She whispered at first, then louder, her voice rising with conviction. "I’ll do it, Mika! I’ll save them. I’ll save everyone here!"

"That’s my Fauna!" Mika smiled, laughing softly. "That’s the Fauna I know and love!"

Her lips quivered into a smile, and she nodded again, steadier now. She took a step forward, then another and the hesitation melted away.

The trembling woman from moments ago was gone. In her place stood Fauna, the Saint of Life, the healer who once mended the broken world.

Without another word, she lifted her hands toward the sky.

And suddenly radiant golden light burst upward, spiraling into the air like a pillar of hope piercing through the clouds.

It illuminated the snow, reflecting off the ice and casting a warm, ethereal glow across the devastation.

Everyone nearby froze.

For a moment, even the screams and sobs stopped. The rescuers turned, their faces pale with disbelief.

Then, one by one, the whispers began.

"Lady Fauna..."

"Lady Fauna!"

"Oh, thank the heavens! It’s Lady Fauna!"

"Lady Fauna! I can’t believe she’s actually here!"

People started running toward her, crying out desperately.

"Please, help us!"

"Lady Fauna, my daughter—she’s still under there!"

"My husband! He’s buried somewhere near the lodge!"

"Please, you have to save them, you have to!"

Fauna looked around at them all, over a hundred faces turned toward her with faith and fear and pleading eyes. She took a deep breath, then raised her voice, calm but commanding.

"Everyone, please! Calm yourselves!"

Her voice carried unnaturally far, amplified by the divine resonance in her aura.

"I am here now and I promise you this—no one will be left behind. I will do everything in my power to save every single person trapped beneath this mountain."

The moment she spoke those words, a ripple of calm passed through the crowd.

They believed her. Of course they did.

This wasn’t just any healer. This was Fauna Necrosia, the Plague Maiden and a battle angel.

If she said it would be alright, then it would be.

The panic slowly eased. Cries softened. People began to breathe again.

Once the crowd steadied, Fauna’s expression turned serious.

"Now." She said. "I need a full report. Situation status, number of survivors, everything."

Immediately, a man pushed through the crowd—a middle-aged man with a sword sheathed at his side and a patchy stubble on his jaw. He bowed quickly.

"My name is Adrian, Lady Fauna." He said. "I’m a B-ranked Blessed and the head of the current rescue team here."

"Good. Go on." Fauna said, nodding for him to continue.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure despite the overwhelming pressure of her presence.

"About thirty-nine minutes ago, an unidentified rift opened near the summit." He began, pointing up toward the mountain. "You can’t see it clearly now through the snowstorm, but it’s still there."

"Thankfully, no creatures have emerged from it so far—but the portal itself caused a massive avalanche, leading to the destruction you see here."

The crowd murmured anxiously as Adrian went on.

"Our current estimate is that approximately four hundred and eighty-nine people are trapped beneath the snow. Around one hundred have been confirmed safe above ground."

Gasps rippled through the survivors. Some began to sob, clutching at their coats and praying under their breath.

"But..." Adrian added quickly. "There’s a small mercy. Since this is the Snow Cloud range, the snow here is extremely light and soft. Even with the collapse, the snowpack doesn’t carry enough weight to crush the victims underneath."

"And because it’s so soft, the impact from the fall shouldn’t have caused severe injuries for most of them. They should be...alive."

"Thank goodness..." Cecilia exhaled a long breath of relief, but Adrian’s tone darkened again.

"However..." He said heavily. "The same quality that’s saving them is also making it impossible for us to dig them out."

"Explain." Fauna frowned slightly.

"Because the snow is so light and granular..." Adrian said. "...any hole we dig instantly collapses. The particles shift too easily. Even when we clear one section, the surrounding snow just slides back in. We can’t make stable tunnels or airways."

He looked frustrated, his hands clenched.

"And there’s something else—something worse."

Before he could continue, Mika quietly finished the sentence for him.

"You’re talking about the Anti-Mana in the snow, right?"

Adrian blinked, startled.

"Y-Yes, that’s exactly it. How did you—" He paused, then straightened. "Forgive me. Who might you be, young man?"

Fauna turned toward him calmly.

"Consider him my equal." She said simply. "Do as he says. His word carries as much weight as mine."

The statement silenced everyone instantly. Even Adrian froze, eyes wide.

To be declared equal to Lady Fauna—there was no higher praise, no greater shock.

"Understood, my lady." He nodded quickly, swallowing his disbelief.

He turned back to Mika and went on to say,

"Yes, it’s as you said. When the rift opened, Anti-Mana particles seeped into the snow. Because of that, none of our abilities work. All elemental, sensory, and spatial powers are nullified the moment they touch the snow."

Several Blessed behind him clenched their fists in frustration, their faces tight with helplessness.

Cecilia, who had been listening intently, frowned in confusion.

"Anti-Mana? I’ve never heard of such a thing. What exactly is it?"

Mika sighed and crouched, scooping up a handful of the pale snow.

"Anti-Mana..." He said. "...is one of the rarest substances in existence. Think of it as the polar opposite of mana."

"Regular mana can be shaped into blessings, spells, and abilities—it builds and enhances. But Anti-Mana..."

He let the snow drift through his fingers.

"It destroys and nullifies."

He then lifted his hand, and a small fireball appeared above his palm, crackling softly.

"For example." He said, tossing it gently toward the snow beside him. "Normally, this would melt through it instantly."

But as soon as the flame touched the ground, it vanished—snuffed out like it never existed. The snow remained perfectly untouched.

"It...disappeared." Cecilia gasped.

"Exactly." Mika said, brushing his hands together. "The Anti-Mana in the snow nullified it. That’s what’s happening to your Blessed abilities too, right, Adrian?"

"Yes." Adrian nodded grimly. "Every single spell we’ve tried, every life-detection technique, every flame—nothing works. The snow devours it all."

"I...I never knew something like that even existed." Cecilia shuddered.

"That’s because it’s so rare that most common people don’t even know about it, not to mention it’s unpredictable as well." Mika said. "It doesn’t follow any pattern. It can appear anywhere. Inside mountains, in caves, even deep underwater."

"It has no consistent behavior, and there’s no known way to replicate or contain it. Once it’s moved from its source, its effects disappear."

But even though he said all that, what Mika didn’t say out loud was the true, terrifying danger of Anti-Mana.

Not because it was toxic—but because it nullifies the attack of any Blessed.

If someone found a way to use Anti-Mana to create a complete barrier, even an S-Class Blessed would be rendered helpless and trapped. It was essentially the weakness of all blessed users, deeming it an incredibly dangerous substance.

Luckily, for Blessed worldwide, Anti-Mana could not be created or contained; the moment it was pulled away from its natural source, its effects would go away immediately.

It also didn’t last for long, with the Anti-Mana in the snow likely lasting only a couple of hours before dissipating.

But what was even more horrifying was that the production of Anti-Mana was a top priority for the Federation and many noble families.

With it, they believed they might finally stand a chance against the Battle Angels, who would undoubtedly falter in such an environment.

Unfortunately for them, Mika himself hadn’t truly mastered its workings, so it was only natural the government bodies had no clue how to create it.

Even if they did, Mika didn’t care.

He would simply wipe out every lab and site that produced it and rip out the head of every person involved, even if they only heard a whisper of it.

If they dared target his family, he would end their entire bloodline of work in a single night.

It was as simple as that.