Chapter 111: Mana Addiction

South of Alkhemia, the scenery grew more beautiful with every step.

The barren wilderness gradually gave way to seas of vibrant flowers. The roads were meticulously maintained, balancing artistic elegance with practical efficiency.

Press on further, and the view became even more intoxicating: lush, rolling mountains of green, forests interwoven seamlessly with hidden architecture, a perfect harmony of natural splendor and architectural beauty.

This was the Court of the Silver Moon, kingdom of elves.

In the past, visitors had come in endless streams, drawn by nothing more than the promise of seeing its wonders with their own eyes.

But that had been long ago.

Ever since the price of magical materials began to skyrocket, outsiders had largely been barred from entry, and those who forced their way in never left elven lands again.

The only ones walking along the flower-lined roads these days were elves, and fully armed ones at that.

The Twilight Wardens had all been deployed in elite squads. They advanced deep into Alkhemia's former territory, easily breaking through the defenses of local lords and forcing them to sign the magical contracts placed directly before them.

As more and more lords did so, the Twilight Wardens returned en masse to the Court of the Silver Moon to report on their progress.

At the highest point of the court stood the Queen's Palace. There, Queen Catherine sat draped in a simple white robe. With no makeup and no adornments, she looked less like a reigning monarch and more like an ordinary young elven woman who had just woken up from bed. Even so, her radiant beauty made all others pale in comparison.

The elven race was blessed beyond measure. Every elf possessed a beauty other races could scarcely imagine, and Catherine was a beauty even elves themselves envied.

From the moment she was born, the elves knew that she would be their new queen.

Not that beauty conferred any privileges in and of itself; rather, it was a sign of divine favor. And Catherine lived up to her beauty. From childhood, she had displayed astonishing talent, surpassing her peers in both magic and the arts.

She had advanced smoothly into a legend. With the full support of her people, the old king had personally crowned her as the new queen.

She did not disappoint them. During her reign, Catherine resolved countless crises for the elven race. The Phaelinn disaster, the War of Magical Beasts—calamities that would have devastated other kingdoms were easily resolved under her rule.

Catherine was destined to be recorded in the annals of the Court of the Silver Moon as a great queen.

But... there were always variables in play.

Catherine sat on a long bench forged from gold, gazing absently at the map before her.

It depicted the entirety of Alkhemia's territory, which was shaped like an uneven parallelogram. To the north lay the vast Golden Desert; to the south stood the Court of the Silver Moon.

Alkhemia now existed in name only. Crushed between two great powers, it would be annexed sooner or later.

Large portions of the map had been dyed emerald green. These were territories whose lords had already signed magical contracts. Though scattered, they already accounted for one-fifth of the land.

The plan was progressing smoothly, yet Catherine's gaze held no joy—only a lingering, inescapable sadness.

An elderly elf standing beside her spoke gently. "Catherine, you must pull yourself together. If you remain trapped in guilt, the elven race will follow you into ruin. You are our queen. You must shoulder this responsibility."

Catherine pressed her lips together and replied quietly, "Sometimes I wish I had never taken the crown from your hands."

The older elf was, of course, the former king. After stepping down, he became her minister and continued to help govern the Court of the Silver Moon. Elves had little hunger for power and no obsession with bloodline succession. Joint governance between two generations of kings often reduced potential errors in decision-making.

At least, under normal circumstances.

"Catherine," the old king said, "stop blaming yourself. This decision was one we all approved together. Greed blinded us. Now is not the time to assign blame. This war is the only way for the elven race to survive. Cast aside needless emotions and do what you must."

Catherine closed her eyes and shook her head. "Is this truly a way to save our people? Even if we take all of Alkhemia's territory and seize its alchemical production lines... will that really solve the problem of mana addiction?"

Mana addiction... At those words, the old king trembled.

This was the greatest crisis facing the elven race, and a secret they had hidden for a very long time.

The elves had always lived peacefully, without any ambition for expansion. So why had they suddenly driven up the price of magical materials? Why had they launched a direct invasion of Alkhemia?

Most elves believed it was simply a matter of claiming unclaimed land.

But if this were an ordinary war, why force the natives to migrate before hostilities even began, leaving no room for negotiation? Whatever Ambrose thought, the elves weren't fools. They would not make such a senseless mistake.

Though insular, the elves were not so xenophobic that they could not tolerate other races. Otherwise, the Court of the Silver Moon would never have been opened to visitors in the past. Yet their actions now were even more ruthless than the Lyon Empire's.

The reason was mana addiction. It was a rare affliction known only to a few, yet the elven race had already been infected on a massive scale.

And it was all due to the ability Catherine had gained during her second legendary ascension.

Catherine had originally been a legendary ranger. Her legendary boon allowed her to use small quantities of magical materials to forge powerful anti-magic weapons. In her youth, this power earned her impressive military achievements and led the elves to victory against disaster after disaster.

As time passed, her mastery of transmutation deepened, and she underwent a second legendary ascension tied to that discipline.

Second ascensions were exceedingly rare, even among long-lived elves. Catherine had been hailed as a queen favored by the gods themselves.

But her downfall lay in the legendary boon she gained from that second ascension.

Selfless Resonance.

Catherine could choose one of her own abilities and share it freely with others.

There was no limit, no restriction, to the ability. Any willing recipient could share Catherine's power, and Catherine herself would not be weakened as a result. The only limitation was that the power, once shared, could not be reclaimed.

At first glance, the boon seemed miraculous. Catherine had two legendary boons. With this boon, wouldn't she be able to produce a whole race of legends?

That was exactly what everyone believed at first. The first time Catherine used Selfless Resonance, she granted a loyal Twilight Warden the power of a legendary ranger. He could forge anti-magic weapons and wield ranger techniques at a far higher level than before.

Because the power was a gift, it fell slightly short of a true legend's—but it was still astonishing.

Legends were rare beyond measure. Though some legends were weaker than others, being a legend at all meant taking a first step toward divinity. The fact that Catherine could grant others her legendary might was a miracle worthy of the gods.

The elves studied her boon carefully for several years. There seemed to be no side effects. Even more encouragingly, when the Twilight Warden's child was born, the child seemed to inherit a trace of that power—sharper eyes and greater strength. Her legendary boon could even be passed down.

Years passed. The child grew stronger, more gifted. He ate more than other children, but that hardly seemed alarming.

At the time, the elves did not realize how severe the problem truly was.

The old king even suggested that Catherine weaken how much power she shared. Selfless Resonance could not be activated at will. It took significant time for the boon to recharge after it was used, and the recharge period depended on the quantity of power she shared. It would be better, the old king had said, to distribute specific aspects of her power instead.

Catherine agreed. She shared the ability to forge anti-magic weapons with many elven artisans and distributed diluted ranger abilities among young elves.

The Twilight Wardens expanded in scope rapidly. Catherine was so talented that prodigies were now appearing everywhere.

The elven race grew stronger by the day. Catherine's prestige reached its peak. Who could refuse a queen who elevated all elves?

Then, tragedy struck.

The first Twilight Warden who had received Catherine's full legendary power began to change. It was as if a hole had been punched through his body, constantly draining his vitality and magic. At first the drain was slow, almost imperceptible. But the more he used the power, the larger the hole grew.

He needed to gorge himself just to sustain his body. Worse, the drain on his magic was severe. Without a steady supply of magical items to replenish it, the void would tear all the magic from him, leaving him in agony worse than death.

Even more terrifying, his child developed the same condition.

The child once hailed as a natural legend died young when his mana went wild.

Only then did the elves begin to realize the hidden dangers of Catherine's power.

To wield legendary power without being a legend—even a fragment of such power—came with catastrophic consequences.

Legendary strength was, in essence, part of natural law. Those who used such power without comprehending natural law had to pay a terrible price.

For mortals, the price was mana.

Every elf who had received Catherine's gift developed "mana addiction" to varying degrees. Their need for mana increased drastically. Without constant replenishment, they would die in agony.

By the time this was uncovered, a full half of the elves had been beneficiaries of Catherine's Selfless Resonance.

Even though the later gifts she had shared were significantly weakened, they still stemmed from legendary strength.

Most elves had not yet reached a critical stage of mana addiction, but Catherine was well aware of what was to come.

The elven race was on the brink of extinction.