Although he was incapable of using mana, the Death Knight still had an accurate grasp over its flow. He stared at Eugene with slightly open eyes.

Vermouth’s flames wove around Eugene like the mane of a lion. Three hundred years ago, this flame had no name. However, after the establishment of the Lionheart family, it was given a name — the White Flame Formula. From what he knew, the White Flame Formula consisted of Cores called “Stars” that determined one’s skill level.

‘Purple flames…. Has he developed his mana in a different way than Vermouth? Or did he independently develop Vermouth’s mana training method?’

The Death Knight couldn’t be sure, but he could feel that Eugene’s flame was special. Each of the scattering embers was an absurdly highly concentrated petal of mana. Moreover, a flame wasn’t the only thing surrounding Eugene. There were also flashes of living lightning mixed in with the fire of pure mana… and unlike the fire, the lightning felt as if it were alive.

‘…And what’s that behind his back? Is it wings?’

What bothered him the most was the wing of fire stretching behind Eugene’s back. It looked like a wing on the surface… but… it bothered him that only a single wing existed. The wing definitely wasn’t for flying.

It meant the wing would serve another purpose, but the Death Knight could not guess its use. He could tell that the wing wasn’t a simple manifestation of mana. It was a type of magic, but unfortunately, the Death Knight was completely ignorant of magic.

Three hundred years ago, during his life, it had been fine for him to be ignorant. Even if the Death Knight ignored magic, he had comrades who would respond to it.

…Though, now, he didn’t want to think about them. The Death Knight leaned forward while grinding his teeth. It would be different from last time. At that time, his body, no, rather, he had not been thinking straight. Three centuries had passed,...