Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

The surge of energy that flowed from Grim was substantial, enough to incapacitate any normal person within seconds. He watched for signs of the technique taking effect—the numbness, the discoloration, the disruption of magical equilibrium.

Instead, Malaxis chuckled.

"Oh my," the entity said with apparent delight, "thank you for the snack. I was quite hungry."

Grim felt his mana being not just absorbed but consumed, drawn into Malaxis like water disappearing into a bottomless well. The technique that had disabled Terras completely was having no effect whatsoever.

"You are nowhere near Caius’s strength," Malaxis continued conversationally, grabbing Grim’s his wrist aggressively. His grip on Grim’s wrist tightened to prevent withdrawal. "You might have great tutelage and impressive potential, but you don’t have enough raw power to compete with me. Not yet."

Before Grim could respond, he felt the flow of energy reverse. His own mana came rushing back into his system with violent force, followed immediately by something else—dark mana.

"No—" Grim began, trying to pull away, but Malaxis’s grip was like iron.

The dark mana flowed into Grim’s body with shocking ease, as if his body was designed to accept it.

He felt it mixing with his existing mana, not fighting them but complementing them in ways that felt both natural and terrifying.