Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - Chapter 41

The deep night was silent, and the moonlight fell evenly across the island.

The man’s robe fluttered lightly, his black cloak almost merging with the darkness.

His bare feet were pale, and his dangling toes always kept a certain distance from the ground.

Beili looked up at Ashera, who had curved ram horns atop his head, and asked with some confusion:

“You’re moving around so openly… is it really okay?”

Although the layer of black mist that used to shroud him had disappeared, slightly reducing the dark and ominous aura around him, seeing a ghostly, silent, floating figure in Holy Island Academy at night…

Anyone would find it unsettling.

The curfew at Holy Island Academy only required students outside Holy Island to return; as long as they were back, no one cared if they wandered the academy at night instead of sleeping.

So even though it was already late, there were still occasional figures moving about.

On the other side, hearing her question, Ashera turned to ‘look’ in her direction.

His long silver hair was blown by the night wind, brushing past his sculpted face, streaming behind him like ribbons.

“No need to worry. They can’t see me.”

He curled his lips into a slight smile, then raised his hand to point at her, saying, “But you, Little Butterfly, you’re the one who stands out.”

Beili looked down at herself.

Then she thought, this was a good chance to try out the magic item she’d just bought today.

So, she took out the Invisibility Cloak from her Spatial Bracelet and draped it over herself, pulling the hood low over her forehead, half her face hidden in shadow.

As a faint wave of mana surrounded her, Beili knew the cloak’s magic had begun to take effect.

Tightening the cloak around her, Beili quickened her pace to catch up with the floating figure ahead.

The two of them, one after the other, left the academy and melted into the night.

…

After leaving Holy Island Academy, they walked along a rugged path for a while.

Beili realized they had arrived at a graveyard at the back of the island.

The entrance was two old iron gates mottled with rust, secured by a chain equally covered in rust.

Ashera gently raised his hand, and the rusty chain snapped and fell to the ground. Then the iron gates creaked open by themselves.

A layer of grayish-white mist shrouded the graveyard.

The air was thick with the scent of dampness and decay, and the tombstones cast long, hazy shadows in the moonlight.

Eroded by the sea wind, the inscriptions on the tombstones had become so worn they were unrecognizable.

A night breeze blew low across the ground, bringing with it a strange, mournful wailing.

“As you wished, there is no mana of slaughter.”

Ashera spread his hands toward the graveyard, lips curved: “Go on, enjoy yourself.”

Beili stared at the silent, desolate, and even somewhat eerie graveyard, at a loss, not understanding what Ashera meant.

“So… where’s the mana?” she asked in confusion.

Honestly, could this Magic Mentor at least act a little more like one…

“Dull Little Butterfly.”

Ashera let out a low laugh, his pale toes tapping lightly as he floated behind her.

She heard a lazy, deep voice by her ear: “You have to look at it this way.”

A hand cold as carved ice gently covered her crimson eyes.

That hand was broad, the fingers long, easily blocking her vision completely.

Following his instructions, Beili cleared her mind of distractions and began to quietly sense the flow of mana around her.

The outline of the graveyard gradually became clearer, and there was a layer of strange black mist.

It flickered slowly atop almost every tombstone, like a burning black flame.

Beili’s breath caught, and she quickly focused all her attention on those eerie black wisps.

As she observed the black mist, it seemed to be drawn to her presence as well.

Like a whirlpool suddenly appearing in a lake, all the water began to flow toward it.

The strange black mist from all around slowly drifted toward her.
A chilling wave of horror swept over her.

Beili was startled by the scene, gasping sharply as she instinctively retreated.

Then, her back pressed against a cold, hard chest.

Ashera seized her shoulders, steadying her.

Beili pulled his hand away and looked up, her crimson eyes filled with shock, fear, and a hint of curiosity.

“I saw it! I saw a dark aura-what is it? Are they ghosts?” she asked.

“You may call it the Mana of the dead.”

Ashera lowered his hollow, lifeless golden eyes to ‘look’ at her, explaining unhurriedly, “The Mana you see is the residual Mana left in the bodies of the deceased. The death and decay of the body means the vessel that once held Mana is broken, so it leaks out.”

Beili observed the Mana of the dead and suddenly recalled seeing the same black aura outside the Confinement Room and on Lisa.

At the time, she had also felt the chill brought by the black aura, so she had avoided it as much as possible.

Thinking of this, Beili asked in confusion, “But I’ve seen this kind of Mana leaking from the living too-why?”

“No, dear Little Butterfly, if it’s on the living, it’s not the Mana of the dead.”

A smile spread across his lips as Ashera said, “That is their sin.”

He paused, his fingertip brushing her shoulder as he continued slowly, “That, too, is a rare delicacy. But it dissipates quickly. Little Butterfly, did you partake?”

“No…”

Beili shook her head with a subtle expression.

“That’s a pity. After all, Mana born of sin is far more delicious than the Mana of the dead.”

He raised an eyebrow, his tone lazy. “Alright, Little Butterfly. The Magic Mentor has brought you to a sumptuous banquet and patiently instructed you. Now, give it to me, and then enjoy it at your leisure.”

With that, Ashera released Beili and held out his hand in front of her.

Beili blinked and calmly pushed aside his broad, pale hand.

“A day means you must teach me until the next moon rises.”

She smiled slightly. “Alright, Magic Mentor. I’m going to absorb Mana now, so please be quiet.”

The smile at his lips faded a little. Ashera withdrew his empty hand, hovering in the air for a moment before murmuring softly, “Alright, alright…”

Seeing Ashera choose a tall gravestone to sit on, Beili began to focus on absorbing the Mana of the dead.

Because the two stood some distance apart, two ‘vortices’ appeared in the graveyard.

The vortex where Beili stood spun rapidly, and the black aura covering the gravestones began to thin and fade under her focused absorption, like black flames dwindling away.

Only then did she notice that the vortex around Ashera had almost stopped spinning.

Even when the black aura approached him, it was as if it hit a cold wall and could only slink away.

Her crimson eyes opened, and Beili turned to Ashera in confusion.

“Aren’t you going to absorb this Mana with me?” A complex emotion flickered in her eyes as she hesitated. “After all, you’re injured. Even if this Mana is nothing but scraps to you, it should at least help your wounds a little, right?”

“Are you worried about me?”

Ashera lowered his head to ‘look’ at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You could say that.” She looked up, meeting his half-smiling gaze, and said seriously, “I mean it. You should absorb some Mana with me.”

Her deep red gaze fell on the man’s chest, where his black robe curved in a slightly odd way.

On the surface, it seemed… sunken.