Lara was convulsing nonstop, her body seemed like it was about to explode, her pores on the verge of bursting. Never in her life had mana been so evident; the air around her was mixed with mana, and both were entering her lungs, as they had since she was young. But now, her bones and muscles were also filled with it.
The mana present in her body faced no resistance, having been bestowed by someone who had already subdued her will. She needed to control it as quickly as possible and try to get out of this situation. Light had already taught her some basic exercises for mana control, though he had asked her to focus on feeling it before attempting to interfere directly.
Her body felt stiff and brittle in some places; in others, a cold liquid coursed through, mixing with her blood. Her flesh seemed to burn in a fiery and intense way, her hands and fingers freezing, her mind feeling as if it were being sliced by countless blades while roots grew inside her stomach.
It was a unique sensation composed of countless feelings and perceptions. At this point, light had a purple taste, and the agonizing sound around her took on sharp, delirious shapes.
Despite doing everything to maintain her sanity, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Even so, she continued to refuse to die here, her faltering mind fighting until the end. She tried to gather the invasive energy like a vortex, concentrating it in her chest. All the already intense sensations began to mix, resulting in even worse pain—her ribs were cracking and splintering.
Her body exerted all possible strength to resist, with several bones already broken and her teeth threatening to give way under the immense pressure placed upon them.
'Please, obey me…'The flow seemed more and more inclined to harm. Her weakness had never been tolerated; she had always grown accustomed to lowering her head and waiting for things to improve, always running away. She had never faced anything in life; her rights were taken away by cowards, and she did nothing, neither when young nor when older.
They had done what they wanted with her up to this point; if they wanted to beat her, she would crouch down and try to endure as much as she could. If they fought, she would remain silent and listen to everything they had to say, even if her ears were bleeding in the process.
She had said she wanted to conquer the world by force, after all. Mana would never choose on its own; domination was the only way. But somewhere within her, she still clung to her own weakness, her naive thoughts believing it would be simple—that she only needed to pull, and the mana would accept her as its new ruler.
Being strong would make mana like you, but that was only one of the many factors behind its adoration. Resorting to descent required equal, if not more, strength—the difference lay in being strong and obeying or being strong and commanding.
"Why? Why does this always happen to me? Everyone thinks I came into this world just to suffer, to be small and weak. A miserable being worthy of pity, dependent on the strength of others to go anywhere. No one has ever given me a chance to show my strength... Or am I really weak? I've spent so much time running from so many who wanted me dead, and still, I'm weak? I prevented them from abusing me, even without muscles or magic... Am I really weak?" Her mind swirled as she felt death approaching.
"My parents were powerful warriors, so much so that they chose to follow their own path despite the end they met. They tried to tread the paths of their own choices. I am their daughter; I am the heir to a strong lineage, and even though the whole world wants me dead and belittled me, I endured all of this! Am I really weak?" Her anger at the injustices of mana, which she had believed in all her life, and the teachings she had heard in religious centers only caused her more rage. From their point of view, she would be born and die without any usefulness, serving only as a tool to exalt others and make them powerful.
"Screw all of you! You think that is strength? You were born and will die like lambs, obediently listening to the lies and madness of mana, bowing to the hierarchies that were established before we were even born! Is that fair? Is that right? Are we all just tools that serve the use of those blessed?" Her emotions grew increasingly intense.
"I will show you the true meaning of strength! Those of you who have belittled me and condemned me to ostracism will pay the price for underestimating the truly strong!" The mana around her, trying to gather in her chest with even more power, gradually felt subdued and intimidated by the reaction of the previously pacifist woman.
Gradually, her body stopped convulsing, and despite the evident blood everywhere, she was alive, her breathing and pulse weak. Her intense emotions were calming; it almost seemed like an illusion—all of a sudden, she was so focused on her own mind and lost so deeply in thought that she didn't even realize when everything settled down.
The servants, noticing that she had calmed down, approached her to heal her. Her pain and fatigue gradually faded, giving way to a young woman who was increasingly beautiful and full of life. Dominic, seeing that some of her strength had returned, cheered.
"Congratulations, Miss, for reaching the first stage and becoming an Initiate."
"Of course" she replied, still panting and too exhausted to express herself fully.
She looked to the side; Light was still convulsing violently, with no signs of stopping. She was somewhat frightened by the possibility that he might die at this rate.
"Shouldn't you interfere? He is the heir and is about to die!"
"He is an Initiate; he has more vitality and can endure a little longer than you. Although, indeed, he is having a rough time. Still, he is the heir and has many responsibilities on his shoulders. He must be able to overcome basic challenges like these to defend his position."