Chapter 41: The Warrior Shimuzu Rin

The chamber was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows on the towering shelves filled with scrolls and decrees. Emperor Masaki leaned back against his throne-like seat, the weight of the empire resting on his shoulders. His mind lingered on his recent conversation with Grand General Takigawa Yoshito—the Vermillion Princess's father—regarding the dispatch of reinforcements to a neighboring kingdom. The Dark Order's movements were troubling, and while the empire had no obligation to assist, doing so would secure an invaluable foothold of influence. A favor owed by a kingdom was never wasted.

As the Grand General exited, the heavy wooden doors opened once more. This time, the Grand Minister, Shinegori Arata, stepped inside, his expression composed but carrying an unmistakable tension.

The Emperor studied him for a moment before speaking.

"Arata," Masaki said, motioning for him to step forward. "What brings you here so soon after the war council?"

Arata bowed respectfully before rising. "Your Majesty, I come seeking an audience for a personal matter… one that concerns my daughter, Akane."

Masaki's brows rose slightly. "Go on."

Arata exhaled, his voice steady but laced with unease. "She has begun investigating a man named Shimuzu Rin."

At the mention of the name, the Emperor's gaze sharpened. He sat up straighter. "So, your daughter is now actively searching for information about him?"

Arata nodded. "Yes. She sent me a letter requesting his origins. She is suspicious, and given her intelligence, it will only be a matter of time before she uncovers the truth."

The Emperor let out a low hum, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. "If she is as sharp as you say, then she will inevitably realize that Shimuzu Rin is, in fact, Hoshimi Rin."

Arata's grip tightened at his sides. "That is what troubles me, Your Majesty. If she were to learn the truth without your permission, it would put her in a precarious position. Knowing a carefully guarded secret of the Imperial Family could be grounds for execution, even if she is the White Princess. I do not wish for my daughter to suffer such a fate."

Emperor Masaki considered his words carefully. He had long known that Akane's intellect rivaled that of her father, and in many ways, she reminded him of Rin. A sharp mind could cut through deception like a blade, but when two minds of equal caliber clashed, only status would determine the victor. In this case, Akane, with her official position as the White Princess, would hold the advantage over Rin's current commoner status.

Masaki exhaled through his nose. "If we do not control the flow of information, she will find out on her own. And that would be… troublesome." He looked directly at Arata, his gaze unwavering. "Very well. I will grant you permission to feed her the truth, but only in careful increments."

Arata bowed deeply. "I am grateful, Your Majesty."

The Emperor wasn't finished. He reached for a golden Imperial Tablet inscribed with his personal seal and held it out. "Give this to Akane."

Arata took the tablet carefully, studying the weight of the item in his hands. The Emperor's seal upon it carried absolute authority.

Masaki's voice grew firm. "She is to keep this secret to her grave. At least until Rin returns to the Imperial Palace."

The words hung in the air, a quiet reminder that the day would come when Rin could no longer remain in exile.

"One more thing, Arata," the Emperor added, his tone heavier now. "Make sure Akane has this tablet on her when she faces Rin. If he finds out an unauthorized person has learned of his identity, he will not hesitate to kill her on the spot."

Arata's breath caught for a moment. He had known Rin since he was young, but now the boy had grown into a formidable warrior. He was no longer the prince confined within the palace walls but a man hardened by experience. If Akane were to learn his truth the wrong way… she wouldn't have time to explain herself.

"I understand, Your Majesty," Arata said, his expression grim. "I will ensure she keeps the tablet with her."

Masaki gave a small nod, trusting his minister to handle the matter. "Then go."

With that, Shinegori Arata bowed once more and left the chamber, his steps heavy with the weight of his duty.

As the doors closed behind him, Emperor Masaki sat back in his seat, fingers laced together in thought.

"Rin… you are running out of time," he murmured.

The soft hum of mana reverberated through the air, a rhythmic pulse that seemed to resonate with the earth itself. Rin sat cross-legged in the center of the training grounds, his brow furrowed in concentration. The atmosphere around him shimmered faintly, as if the very fabric of the world bent to his will.

Harumi watched from a safe distance, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Awe and anxiety warred within her as she observed the swirling currents of mana around Rin. They moved with precision, spiraling into his body and out again in a perfect circular flow. It was as though he were the center of an invisible vortex, and the sheer pressure of the energy made her skin prickle.

The tension in the air grew thicker. Rin's breaths were labored, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Harumi could tell he was pushing his body to its absolute limit, and the thought made her stomach twist.

"This is his new theory, isn't it?" Harumi murmured to herself. "The... mana furnace."

She recalled Rin explaining it to her once, though much of it had gone over her head. The idea was revolutionary, even to someone as magically inexperienced as Harumi. By creating a "furnace" within the body, a person could draw in ambient mana, purify it, and convert it into their own. The result was akin to having an endless reservoir of mana—a feat that could elevate even a mediocre magician to unimaginable heights.

But Rin was no mediocre magician.

"Why...?" Harumi whispered under her breath, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her hands. "Why does he need more mana? He's already capable of casting supreme spells. He has more than enough..."

Her voice trailed off as a flicker of fear crept into her heart. Rin had also mentioned the risks. Attempting to create a mana furnace was not just dangerous—it was potentially fatal. At best, failure meant losing one's ability to use magic forever. At worst, it meant death.

Harumi bit her lip, her worry mounting as she watched Rin's struggle. The tension in his muscles was visible even from afar, and the sweat dripping down his face glistened in the dim light.

She took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling slightly. "Rin... are you sure about this? You're already so strong. Do you really need more?"

Rin's eyes remained closed, his focus unbroken, but he responded nonetheless. His voice was calm, though strained. "Harumi... strength isn't just about what I can do now. It's about what I'll need to do in the future. The challenges ahead... they'll demand more than what I currently have."

"But at what cost?" Harumi asked, her voice breaking. "You could lose everything—your magic, your life—just for this theory."

Rin exhaled deeply, the mana flow around him momentarily flickering before stabilizing once more. "I understand the risks," he said, his tone steady. "But the path I've chosen doesn't allow hesitation. If this works, I'll be able to protect more people—people like you, Miharu, and... others who rely on me."

Harumi fell silent, her heart heavy. She couldn't deny the sincerity in his words, nor the resolve that burned within him. But watching him push himself so far made her chest ache.

"Just... don't forget that you don't have to carry everything alone," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rin's lips twitched into a faint smile, though his eyes remained shut. "Thank you, Harumi. I won't forget."

And with that, he continued his meditation, the mana furnace within him growing ever closer to completion. Harumi could only watch, her hands clasped tightly, praying silently that Rin would succeed—and that he wouldn't lose himself in the process.

Rin sat motionless, the air around him buzzing with the faint hum of mana. His body was bathed in the ethereal light of the mana circulating within, weaving through him with an unnatural rhythm. The glow intensified as his focus sharpened, the mental process of creating the mana furnace demanding every ounce of his attention.

In his first life, before reincarnating as Hoshimi Rin, he had already reached the peak of magical understanding. His quantum eyes had allowed him to observe the unseen, to witness the flow of energy in ways others couldn't even fathom. He had transcended the boundaries of ordinary magic, and the creation of the mana furnace was something he had mastered long ago.

But now, in this life, there was something different. The furnace he was creating was more than just a tool—it was a necessity. The horrors of the past, especially the subspace kidnappings, still haunted him. Rin remembered the strain of fighting for hours on end, surrounded by demons, with his mana reserves running dry. The moment when he had almost lost his life—when the endless onslaught had threatened to consume him—was a memory he couldn't afford to forget.

In that moment, the thought had settled in his mind like a stone: Never again.

He couldn't allow himself to be caught in that situation again. To save people meant pushing himself to new limits. To throw himself into danger without hesitation. And so, the mana furnace had become his solution—a way to ensure that he would never again run out of mana in the heat of battle, no matter how long the fight raged.

With the furnace, I can fight without fear of running dry, Rin thought, his mind focused on the task at hand. He could feel the dense order of mana settling into his soul, a deep well of energy waiting to be tapped into whenever needed.

The furnace was coming to life within him, its structure slowly solidifying. Rin wove the mana with precision, channeling it carefully so that it could take root deep within his being. The power flowed effortlessly, as though it had always belonged there. Each pulse of energy felt like a heartbeat, the furnace strengthening with every cycle.

As the hours passed, Rin's body began to hum with power, and he felt the furnace fully forming. He took slow, measured breaths as the last traces of mana settled into place.

Finally, after two long hours of meditation, Rin opened his eyes. He felt the change within him immediately. The mana flowed freely through his body, and the furnace—a dense, orderly core of magical energy—had fully integrated with his soul. It pulsed with life, absorbing the surrounding mana without effort.

He could feel its presence, like a constant hum in the back of his mind. The furnace was now an extension of himself, a tool that would never fail him in battle. No longer would he worry about mana running out in the heat of a fight. He could fight for days if needed, uninterrupted, without the fear of exhaustion.

Rin let out a slow breath, his heart steadying. The weight that had been pressing on his chest since the subspace kidnappings lifted ever so slightly. He had accomplished what he set out to do. But deep down, he knew the real challenge was yet to come.

The furnace was only a small part of his larger goal—a goal that required not just power, but the ability to protect those he cared about. And though he now had more mana than ever before, he understood that it was only a tool, one that would need to be used wisely in the battles ahead.

As he stood, stretching his stiff limbs, he glanced over at Harumi, who had been watching him the entire time, her face a mixture of concern and awe.

"Are you okay?" Harumi asked hesitantly, her voice still tinged with worry.

Rin offered her a small smile, feeling the burn of exhaustion creep into his bones. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just... needed to make sure I was ready for whatever comes next."

Harumi stepped closer, her expression softening. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."

Rin nodded, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "I know. But some things... I can't afford to leave to chance."

And with that, he turned, walking toward the training grounds' exit, Harumi close behind. As he moved, the faint hum of the mana furnace within him continued to pulse—a steady reminder that he was prepared, that he was no longer vulnerable.

But the weight of the battles to come still lingered in his thoughts. The journey was far from over.